Page 15 of The One You Want

I froze, my water glass halfway to my lips. “Grandpa,” I began, and of course the waiter chose that moment to arrive with our meals. In addition to our salads, he also carried a steak sandwich, so my grandfather must have let the kitchen staff know he’d be joiningus.

Which meant he’d been planning onthis.

“Grandpa,” I began again, but they were both already tucking into theirmeals.

“You know, this is quite good,” my grandfather said. “Larson has been complaining about the line cooks during the lunch shift but I’m pleasantlysurprised.”

“The lobster seems a bit scarce,” my grandmother said, poking at hersalad.

“I suppose it’s a cost cuttingissue.”

“But we don’t want to appear cheap,Walter.”

On and on it went as they discussed the restaurant, the wait staff, the difficulties in sourcing food this summer. I sat quietly, the way I had been raised, only offering my opinions when asked. Finally, my grandfather wiped his mouth, threw his napkin down, and turned his big, white-toothed green onme.

“So. Peanut. Like I was saying, there’s a young man I’d like you tomeet.”

“Grandpa, I appreciate you thinking of mebut—”

“He works in the hotel, assistant hospitality manager. He’s been moving up quite steadily through the company. Comes from a great family—you remember the Rutherfords,dear?”

Of course he would first tell me about the guy’s place at the company and his family connections. Nothing about his personality, things we might have in common, age, looks—in other words, all the things I would actually care about when agreeing to adate.

“I really don’t think this is a good time for me to be dating someonenew.”

My grandmother glared at me across the table but my grandpa just patted my hand. “Come on, now, peanut. You’re getting up there in age. Don’t you want to settle down, start afamily?”

“I’m only twenty-eight,” I argued. “I have plenty of timeto—”

“Yes, but what’s the point in waiting?” my grandmother pressed. “It’s not like you’re doing anything important with yourtime.”

“I’m looking for ajob.”

Again, my grandfather patted my hand. “Sweetheart, there’s no need for you to work. You knowthat.”

God, I could just scream. Their entire worldview was sobackwards.

“Iwantto work, Grandpa,” I said, trying to keep my voicefirm.

A wrinkle appeared in his forehead, the first sign that he was beginning to lose patience with me. I’d seen it a hundred times before. For all his jovial looks, the man could absolutely destroy a hapless underling or competitor in the boardroom with a few choicewords.

He just didn’t usually direct that ire atme.

“If you’re interested in working,” he said in a tighter voice. “I will arrange a position for you in the hotel’s management offices. It would be good for you to see how things are run. You’ll want to be a help to your husband, right?” He winked at me, back to being the friendly, teasing patriarch. “But I suppose I’m getting ahead ofmyself.”

“I don’t really wantto—”

“Jennifer,” my grandmother said, her voice sharp. “Stop arguing with your grandfather. You are in danger of soundingpetulant.”

“But—”

“Furthermore,” she continued, voice somehow turning even icier. “You are in danger of sounding like yourmother.”

And there it was. The sharpest jab she could throw at me. I shut my mouth immediately, knowing that if I tried to respond to that I would likely end up crying. God, I hated that I was soemotional.

“There now,” my grandfather said, patting my hand again. “There’s no cause for getting snippy with each other. I’m not asking you to get engaged tomorrow. I’d just like you to meet this boy. Is that too much toask?”

And really, how could I argue withthat?