Page 40 of The One You Want

I had really been hoping for some caffeine to help wake me up, but I wasn’t going to complain. Even if the plain tea here always tasted a little acidic to me. It was fine. It was just a drink, right? No need to make a big thing out ofit.

I had just settled in with my sandwich and substandard tea, wondering if my easy acceptance of second best made me a cheetah or something, when the bell over the front door rang. I cast a worried glance up, expecting to see Lilah and her friends brandishing their books atme.

The reality was evenworse.

“Grandmother,” I blurted out, choking on a clump of Gouda. I coughed several times, eyes watering. “What are you doinghere?”

My grandmother very rarely ventured away from the hotel and she certainly didn’t spend time in establishments that sold ready-to-serve food items. Even as I asked, she cast a disparaging glance at the display case of sandwiches on her way to mytable.

She settled herself on one of the wooden chairs, back as straight as if she were sitting on a throne. I didn’t even get a hello before she started in on me. “I wouldn’t have had to come into town today if you weren’t going out of your way to avoidme.”

“I haven’t beenavoiding—”

She held up a hand, the diamonds in her Tiffany’s tennis bracelet winking under the fluorescent lights. “Please, let’s dispense with the nonsense.” She cast a glance around the cafe. “Where on earth is ourwaiter?”

“You, uh, have to order at theregister.”

She looked scandalized. “Absolutely not,” she murmured, turning in her chair to fix Mike with a steely gaze. “You, there. Young man. Please come and take myorder.”

I closed my eyes, wishing I could sink into the floor. “Grandmother…”

But Mike was already making his way to our table. He shot me a bewildered expression and I tried to express an apology through myeyes.

“I’d like a cup of hot tea, Earl Grey, lemon on the side, nomilk.”

“Um. Sure, we can dothat.”

“That remains to be seen,” she muttered under her breath. Then she raised her voice, calling after him, “And do make sure you pour the water over the tea bag. Don’t just dunkit.”

She turned back to me. “I should have just waited until I got back to the hotel and made my own, but I didn’t want to be rude and not orderanything.”

This, apparently, was my grandmother when she was actively attemptingnotto berude.

She fixed me with her steely, searching gaze. “Now, Jennifer. What is this nonsense we’ve heard from Bradford? You’re datingsomeone?”

I swallowed. I knew that kiss-ass was going to go straight to my grandparents and tell them what happened at Cora’s. I should have had a plan in place for how to deal with it. I needed to come clean, explain to her that it had been a misunderstanding, but before I could open my mouth, shecontinued.

“Your grandfather was exceedingly embarrassed to hear this from a third party.” Her voice had that icy quality I had come to hate as a child. “For the life of me I can’t understand why you would be so disrespectful to that man, after everything he’s done foryou.”

A familiar wave of annoyance-laced guilt rushed through me. I had enough experience with her to understand that she was trying to manipulate—thus the annoyance. But damn if it wasn’t effective. Because my grandfatherhadgiven me everything over the years. Not just money and education and a nice place to live, either. Out of anyone in my family, he had been the one to show me trueaffection.

“I didn’t mean to embarrass Grandpa.” I paused while Mike reappeared, mug of tea in hishand.

“Can I get you anything else?” he asked, arranging a small plate of sliced lemons next to hertea.

“No, thank you.” There was no sincerity in my grandmother’s voice as she glared down at the perfectly serviceable mug as if it had offendedher.

“Jenny? You allset?”

“Just fine, Mike.” I attempted a smile. “You were right about the sandwich. It’sexcellent.”

Of course, I hadn’t managed to eat a bite since my grandmother came in, and from the way my stomach was now roiling, I was pretty sure my lunch was a lostcause.

“I suppose china is too much to hope for at a place like this,” my grandmother muttered, poking at her ceramic mug. I ignored her, taking a deep breath, ready to confess the truth about what had happened at the bar the othernight.

Before I could open my mouth, she was fixing me with that assessing stare. “How serious is it with thisboy?”

I swallowed. There it was. The perfect opening to explain what Grant really was to me—not my boyfriend. But somehow, I couldn’t open mymouth.