Page 97 of Her Game Plan

I flash my ID at the woman working the front desk of Sunshine Hills—not the one who has a crush on Callan, thank God. “I’m here to see…” Fuck. How do I not know Nan’s first name?

The lady at the front desk narrows her eyes.

“Nan. Devine.”

“Does she know you’re coming?” This woman is definitely suspicious. As she should be. This place is prime for elder abuse, with the money it takes to live here. You know at least one of the residents has attempted to wire funds to their “grandson,” who’s stuck in some foreign country with no way to get home.

“She does,” I lie. “I’m supposed to meet her and her friends in the dining hall for a card game.” It’s a little bit earlier than when Callan would normally come, but I have to say something to convince this woman that I’ve been here before. “She mentioned she might be at Rose’s. You could try calling there if you need to check in with one of them.”

At this point, I’m just throwing out words that might make it seem like I know these people. If called, Nan will definitely say I’m not invited. Rose at least didn’t hate me when I came. And, from everything Callan’s told me about, she’s down for a good scheme. And I’m certainly in scheme mode.

“Fine.” The woman waves me on. “They’re in the dining room.”

I make my way up the grand staircase, grateful it’s a direct shot to find them. The last thing I need is to be wandering the halls of an assisted living facility. When I walk through the doorway into the dining area, I easily spot Nan and her gang at the only occupied table in the room.

I twist my earring, forcing myself to take a deep breath.

Here goes nothing.

Well, not nothing. My entire plan rides on convincing Nan that she doesn’t hate me… So, here goes everything?

I stride into the room, my black heels clicking with every step I take. The red suit I wore to display dominance in the meeting with Hugo is potentially not the look this meeting calls for, but, oh well. I tried being nice last time, and these sharks ate me alive. Maybe a good ol’-fashioned dominance is exactly what these octogenarians need.

As I stop next to their table, three pairs of eyes are glued to me, though Nan’s remain fastidiously locked on her cards.

“Hello, Charlotte, dear.” Rose raises a bejeweled hand in greeting. She was right last time: she is fashionable in a sleek pair of black slacks and a double-breasted khaki coat that I might have the overcoat version of.

“Rose. Great to see you again.” I give her my warmest smile. “I love your jacket.”

Nan places a ten of hearts on the pile in the center of the table before finally turning her attention to me. “Is Callan parking the car? Couldn’t handle the cold for long enough to walk in with him?”

I clench my jaw, forcing myself not to react to her statement, especially since I know she taught Callan to do chivalrous things like that.

“Good man, that Callan,” Billy comments, playing a seven of hearts. “Men these days don’t know how to treat a woman right.”

“That’s because women these days don’t have to wait around for men to help them with things. They can open their own doors,” Rose claps back.

Not sure I want to be involved in wherever this conversation is headed, I cut in, “Callan isn’t here.”

I now have the attention of the four of them, their surprised expressions leaning more toward curious than shocked.

“Oh?” Nan’s voice is cold. “Passing by and thought you’d come in for a quick game of hearts, then?”

I shake my head. “No. I’m not much of a card player, but I was hoping to have a minute or two of your time. I need a favor.”

The huff that comes from Nan is hard to miss, not that I think she’s doing anything to try to hide it.

“Oh, honey, I don’t think you’re reading the room,” Jacob comments, sending a warning glance my way.

I cross my arms. “I’m very aware Nan doesn’t like me. I went to a private high school. Trust me when I say, I picked up on her pretend politeness about two seconds into it. Unfortunately for her, I don’t give up that easily. And I need her recipe for Callan’s favorite chocolate chip cookies.”

Nan gives me an appraising look. “Have you ever baked cookies before?”

“Not much of a chef, I’m afraid,” I admit. “But…” I look around the table. It seems highly unlikely Nan is going to give me a minute in private to explain everything. And even if I did, I’m not sure she’d help. Maybe if I can convince the whole table, though…

“But I made a mistake. Or, that’s not really right. One of my decisions hurt Callan, and I want to make it up to him. And, from everything he’s told me, your cookies are the only thing that make him happy when he’s down. So, I was hoping you’d be generous enough to let me have a copy of the recipe so I can make them for him.”

Rose leans closer to Billy and whispers, “Back in my day, I’d show up naked in his bed anytime His Royal Highness got his unders in a twist. Worked like a charm every time.”