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Between the wedding planning, the charity, and Colton’s work schedule, we’ve barely seen each other since returning from the UK two weeks ago. We still have dinner together every night, but I always pretend to have stuff to do right afterward. I can’t be alone with Colton, because now, I don’t even trust sober me around him. Better to just avoid him altogether. Especially since he’s been more attentive lately. He smiles a lot, and every time, it makes flowers bloom inside my chest. Thank Heavens he lost his British accent, or I would have been a goner.
The wedding is less than a week away now, and the charity event I’m organizing is tonight. Yes, I’m the one organizing it. Colton and his team put the charity together, but something urgent came up at work, and he couldn’t help with the event. So I offered to do it, knowing how much it means to him. With the help of Colton’s PR team, we were able to set it all up in a flash.
I’m now in the dining room, filling up the swag bags we’ll be handing out tonight.
“Jane,” Agnes says, startling me.
“Agnes.” I throw a hand over my heart, regulating my breathing. “I didn’t hear you come in.”
“Can I help you with zis?”
I’m as shocked by Agnes’s soft tone as I am by her offer. I did insist on doing this myself, but the courier will be here to pick them up soon, and I’m only halfway done.
“Sure, thanks.” I nod, and she walks around to the other side of the table. “Just add one of each item to the bags along with the charity brochure.”
She nods back and gets to work.
After a few minutes of working in silence, I say, “Thanks for helping me. And here I thought you hated me.” A nervous chuckle escapes my lips.
Her grim stare drills into my skull, making me regret my words. I should have learned by now that Agnes doesn’t do light conversation. Not to mention I just “accused” her of hating me. Who does that?
“I thought you were just here for ze money,” she shoots back, focusing on her task.
I do a double take, even physically taking a step back. If there’s one thing I never expected Agnes to say to me, that would be it.
“What do you mean?” I frown. “I am here for the money.”
Raising her head, she arches an eyebrow.
I shake my head. “What? I am.” My heartbeat quickens, and I wouldn’t be surprised if she could see it through my blouse.
“You wouldn’t work night and day on zis charity if you were just here for ze money,” she says matter-of-factly. “Look at all ze amazing sponsors you got for zis event. You care.”
My cheeks must now be a flaming red. “So what?” I eek out, tying the bow on my current bag. “I can care and still be here for the money. They’re not incompatible.”
She lets out a light chuckle. “That’s what I used to say too.”
My eyes widen in horror. “What? Colton . . . you?”
Her expression matches mine, and my pulse slows. “He could be my son,” she scolds.
“I know,” I blurt out, almost screaming.
“That’s what I mean. I care for him. As a son. Even if at first, I thought zis was just a job.”
“Do you have any children of your own?” I ask, tucking a brochure into a bag. It feels surreal to talk so casually with Agnes, but I’m glad I am. She doesn’t seem as bad anymore.
“I don’t. That’s why I’m a little . . . protective of Monsieur Green sometimes.”
I quirk an eyebrow. “Protective? I would have said ‘shielding,’ but okay,” I tease.
She answers with a light laugh, and I never knew she had such a pretty smile. Funny how that one feature can make such a big difference on someone’s face.
“You view him as a son, but you still call him Monsieur Green?”
“Ah,” she says, shaking her head. “How do we say again? Old habits die hard.”
“Right. Well, even if you have made my life a tad complicated at times, I’m glad he has you in his life.”
