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This must be it.
The thing he warned me about, the inevitable formal introduction to his family, and I certainly can’t back out now.
“I’d love to, Delly. I’m no art snob. I just love our local scene.”
“You’ll fit right in!” She beams, and I look away. Seeing how happy she is doesn’t make this any easier. “It’s a casual affair. I do like to hold these little fundraisers sometimes. Dexter’s brothers have already said they’d be there, and I would love to make it a family event.”
“We’ll be there with bells on,” Dexter promises so gruffly I laugh. “Though next time you want to pounce on Junie, Mother, give me fair warning first.”
“Oh, stop. It’s fine,” I say hurriedly, digging my elbow into Dexter’s side.He’snot in any position to complain about unexpected visits. And judging by the wry smile he aims at me, he’s well aware. “It’s been fun meeting you, Delly.”
“And you, Juniper.” She finishes her coffee and rises. “I really should go and stop disturbing you at work. I can’t wait to see you on Sunday.”
“Same,” I manage as she floats out of the store, somehow managing to command the attention of every single person there.
Not that there are many now—we’re coming up on close and we don’t have extended hours today, so the only people left in the store are being politely herded out by Sarah.
She glances my way and nods politely at Dexter, then twists the sign and switches off the lights.
Lights that are now fixed thanks to his money.
I slide the ring off my finger and sag back into the chair. Dexter removes his arm, and I try to pretend I can’t sense the eyes of every Sugar Bowl employee glued to us like we’re a freaking live reality show.
I’m never, ever going to live it down.
“Sorry about that,” Dexter says. “I came the second I heard. Didn’t have much notice she was going to descend on you.”
Descend is the best word for it.
I can still smell her perfume, something expensive and tropical.
“She’s nice. And really intense.”
“She’s a Rory,” Dexter says with a shrug, “which means I know she’s a lot. If I’d had more notice, I wouldn’t have left you alone with her.”
“Does that mean you’re a lot to handle, too?” I meet his eyes, bright as the evening sky.
“That’s up to you, Sweet Stuff,” he snorts.
“I don’t know if I’m qualified,” I murmur, pushing my chair back and assessing what’s left to do.
Too much, unfortunately.
There’s still a lot of cleanup after getting those last-minute orders out the door. I’m on closing duty alone tonight after Sarah leaves because Oliver has an evening study group and Emmy called in sick.
And that’s fine. I don’t mind manning the ship by myself. I’m not the kind of boss who forces her employees to drag themselves to work just so they can shower our customers with germs.
“Since I’m here, I was hoping we could talk about the Sugar Bowl’s day-to-day operations,” Dexter says.
When I turn to face him with a frown, he just shrugs.
“Look, woman, I don’t know a damn thing about bakeries, but I intend to keep my promise. If I can advise you in any way, I might as well start now.”
There goes my face again, morphing into a cherry tomato.
“Oh. Well—”
“Bye, guys!” Sarah calls, waving with a wicked, knowing smile as she darts out through the back. Oliver picks up the trash as he takes off his apron, excited to leave. Probably because he has a life after his studies on a Friday night.
