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“I went out,” I repeated. “Where’s Arnold?”
“He had to take a call. He’ll be back in a bit. So, you and Charlie went out.”
“Still on that, are we?” I asked as I rose. I went to the antique liquor cart near the unlit stone fireplace and filled a rocks glass with ice.
“It’s just out of character for you, that’s all.”
“She begged.” I unscrewed a bottle of club soda and poured it into my glass and garnished it with a lime.
“Dina’s worried about her,” Mom said.
“Dina worries about everything,” I said. “It’s her nature.”
“So, there’s nothing for her to worry about?” Mom pressed.
I loved my mother, but we did not share confidences. Anything I said to her would get reported back to Charlie’s mom—a woman I loved dearly, and not just because she was my godmother.
“There’s nothing to worry about,” I lied. “She stayed with me last night.”
Charlie had snuck out before I’d even gotten up. She knew I’d bug her into talking if I fed her.
“Hmm.” My mother lifted the martini to her lips and took a small sip. “Anything else interesting to report? Anything new?”
I shook my head. “No, nothing new.”
My stepfather entered the salon. His dark hair was still full, even if half of it was gray. Arnold Walsh was tall, commanding, and dressed casually in a pair of khakis, a crisp white polo, and the finest loafers money could buy. He looked ready for lunch at the club.
“Hayden,” he said, flashing a grin and showing off his perfect veneers.
“Hi, Arnold.”
He walked over to the drink cart and embraced me. “Sorry I wasn’t here. Business call.”
I waved away his excuse. “No worries. Mom and I were just catching up.”
“Ah.” He poured himself three fingers of single malt scotch and then took his drink to the couch and sat down next to Mom.
“Hayden and Charlie went out last night,” Mom explained, a devilish twinkle in her blue eyes.
“Hayden went out last night? Voluntarily?” Arnold teased.
“Okay, me going out isn’t that big of a deal. Can we please talk about something else?”
Before Mom or Arnold got a word out, Stanton appeared in the doorway. “Paula wanted me to inform you that dinner is ready.”
“Good, I’m starving,” Arnold stated.
We took our drinks and moved into the formal dining room that could seat twelve. The three of us sat at one side of the table.
It wasn’t until the lobster in cream sauce entrée was served that my mother turned the conversation to the charity gala she was organizing.
“You’re coming, aren’t you?” Mom asked. “I don’t want to hear any excuses. You’ve got a few weeks to find a dress.”
“I already told you I was,” I said absently.
“And you’re not dating anyone, are you?”
I lifted my gaze from my plate. “Who is he?”
