Page 85 of 10 Rings I Hate About You
“Matthew Hendrickson,” she said sweetly, “bless your heart.”
Someone had the audacity to cough. And someone else whispered a harsh shush. We weren’t southerners, but Glamma was, and most of usknewwhat she meant.
Matt pointed at the bulletin board. “Put itthere.”
He turned and stormed back into the kitchen, muttering something that sounded likefire code, there has to be a fire code about fucking flyers.
“I don’t know how hedoesthat,” I whispered, my previous composure cracked by sheer awe. “I mean. It’sSofia.”
“He’s been doing it since he was a kid. I think she secretly respects it,” Adele whispered back.
Glamma weaved through the diner, distributing flyers as if she were an HR person distributing flyers for the voluntary-but-mandatory company picnic. When she arrived at our booth, she paused and gave me a wink that containedso many hidden messages.
“Good morning, girls. I trust I’ll see you both at the auction.”
“Oh—no—that’s not exactly my—” I stammered.
“You don’t enjoy charity?” she asked, blinking at me. Her hand propped up onto the hip of her sage green, long-sleeve, floor-length velvet dress, complete with ruching at the waist and boa-like feathers around the cuffs.
The trap door closed so fast I felt it snap.
“I—no, I mean yes, I love charity.”
“Wonderful.” She patted my hand. “I’ll see you there.” She turned to Adele. “And you, darlin’?”
Adele was already reaching for a flyer. “Wouldn’t miss it. I’ll put this in the store window this morning.”
“Perfect.” Glamma beamed. “Who knows—you girls might decide to bid on someone.” I swear she sent a quick glance Wyatt’s way before turning back to us and winking.
I was about to say something appropriately noncommittal and dignified when the door opened and Marc walked in.
My brain did something embarrassing—it short-circuited. One full second of static. Because his curls were doing that thing today where it looked mussed from running a hand through it and then just committed to whatever happened after that, and somehow that was incredibly sexy.
Absolutely not. We are not doing this. Put that thought away.
He was already scanning the diner, eyes moving efficiently across the space just as they always did, cataloging all the things, when Glamma intercepted him as if she’d been waiting for this exact moment.
“Marc, perfect timing. I need one more bachelor for the auction.” She quickly made her way over to him.
He looked at her with barely concealed impatience, and I had a feeling this wasn’t their first discussion around this topic. “I don’t think that’s a good idea, Glamma.”
“Of course it is. You’re handsome, you’re eligible, and the crowd will love you.”
“I can’t leave the goat unattended,” he said, perfectly serious. And based on the tiny smile that quirked his lips, I had a feeling for the first time ever he was glad to use the goat as an excuse.
And as if he summoned him by words alone, the door opened, admitting another customer, and a tiny brown goat trotted along behind him.
The restaurant made a collective noise. A combination of gasps and awes.
Marc turned around slowly. He looked at the goat. The goat looked at him with zero fucks to give. Dangling from its mouth was a chewed strip of fabric from what used to be a leash.
“For fucks sake—Chaos.” Marc pointed at him. “I tied you up!”
“Baaaaaah.” Chaos clearly had opinions about being left outside.
“Absolutely not,” Marc told him.
I snort-laughed.
