Page 113 of My Merry Mistake
There’s a cheer from the other room, and Finn’s eyebrows shoot up. “Sorry, ladies, the less attractive side of the house is calling . . .” One more quick look at me, then he walks out.
Before anyone can comment on that, Justin walks back into the kitchen. “Sorry about that. Work has been crazy lately.”
The mood shifts from talk of misshapen cake to something that feels like a library or a museum.
“Justin, Raya tells us you’re in real estate?” Mom asks.
He nods. “I am. I also have a few investment properties, and I’m looking to buy a few more.”
“Wow,” Mom says. “Impressive.”
I smile at him, and she offers to take him into the other room and introduce him to the guys. But as she leads him out of the kitchen, I have the horrible realization that Justin doesn’t fit in with my people.
It’s like the chess club meeting the football team.
And I’m not sure there’s a way to change that.
Chapter Twenty-Eight
Raya
Dinner is a little like a nightmare.
First of all, I can’t stop thinking about what Finn’s mom said, and that distraction is making me sweat. Because seriously—he told his mom about me?
Secondly, Finn is sitting right across from me, and the way he’s studying Justin and me is unnerving—and a little uncomfortable.
Third, Justin gets up from the table three times during the meal to deal with phone calls. If this continues, he’s going to turn Dallas’s guest room into his own personal office.
The third time he gets up, Dallas’s grandma, Sylvia, looks me straight in the face and says, “What are you doing with that man?”
Poppy almost spits her water out, and neither Finn nor Eloise even try to hide their laughter at Sylvia’s bluntness.
I would be offended if I weren’t wondering the same exact thing.
“Gram,” Dallas says, putting a hand on her arm, “Raya can date whoever she wants. She doesn’t need all of us weighing in.”
Mom signs this, and I catch the look that passes between her and my dad.
“Raya is an intelligent, beautiful, and successful woman,” Sylvia says. “All I want to know is why she would ever think about settling with such a dolt.”
“I love you like crazy,” Eloise says to her. “Can I be you when I grow up?”
I shake my head. “Not everyone wants the same things out of a relationship,” I say, though the words sound weak coming out of my mouth.
“That’s true.” Poppy nods. Always the peacemaker. “There’s someone for everyone, it doesn’t have to all . . . make sense, you know, to . . . everyone.” Her positivity trails off, grasping at verbal straws.
“But Raya, come on—” Eloise points to the door, as if to sayThis guy?
And I watch my plans crash and burn. Because they’re right. Sitting through a Thanksgiving meal without checking your phone every three seconds is sort of a no-brainer. Even I know that.
Justin walks back into the room to the sound of clinking silverware against plates.
“Sorry about that.” He sits back down and squeezes my arm. “Demanding client.”
I smile as if to tell him I understand, but I’m starting not to. Even if I weren’t on a hiatus from work right now, my phone would not be on this table.
Maybe he and I have different priorities after all.
