Page 2 of All Hale the Queen

“Fantastic,” he replies, cutting his seared salmon with a fork. “She hates the smell of fish right now, so I can only eat it when she’s not with me.”

“I was the same way with turkey when I was pregnant with you and Phoenix. It was the weirdest thing because I could eat chicken, but the smell and taste of turkey made me nauseated. Thanksgiving was a nightmare that year.”

“Oh, she told me to ask you if you wanted to go to one of her OB appointments with her. I’ve been going to all of them, but she thought you might enjoy hearing the baby’s heartbeat.”

Setting down my fork, I press my hand over my heart and try to blink back tears. “I would absolutely love that. Tell her to let me know when.”

Nicolette was not blessed with a good mother, but she and I hit it off immediately. Well, after a brief period of awkwardness surrounding the way we met in a restaurant restroom. I still giggle every time I think of that encounter. It makes my hearthappy that my daughter-in-law feels more like a real daughter to me.

Jordie does as well. She grew up without a mother in her life at all and was raised by her two fathers, who are wonderful men. Phoenix had been a single father for four years before Jordie came into the picture, and now I couldn’t imagine life without her in it. She’s vibrant, talented, and an adoring mother to little Reece.

Once we’re done with our lunch, my boys and I stand.

“Mom, did you drive?” Remi asks.

“No, I knew we’d probably have wine, so I took an Uber.”

Lines appear on his forehead. “I really wish you’d let me get you a permanent driver.”

I wave my hand at him. “Pssh. That would be a waste. I enjoy driving myself, so there’s no need to hire someone to just sit around.”

Remi blows out a breath like I’m the most unreasonable person to ever exist. “No, it’s much better for you to get in a car with a complete stranger.” His sarcasm is obvious, but I ignore it.

“I agree. Especially since their drivers are vetted,” I reply pointedly.

My son rubs his forehead. “I’ll have Antonio drive you home today, and I’ll just catch a ride back to the office with Phoenix and Helix.”

“Remi, it’s really—”

“Please, Mom,” he interrupts, his brown eyes worrisome and compelling. “It would make me feel better.”

“I agree with Remi,” Helix adds, and his twin nods. “Why ride with a stranger if you don’t have to?”

They all appear to be stressing about this, and I’m happy my sons care enough to worry about me, so I relent.

“Okay, fine. If Antonio doesn’t mind.” Three wide smiles greet me, and my heart melts. I’d do pretty much anything to make my sons happy.

As we walk toward the front of the restaurant, Remi tucks my arm in his elbow while Phoenix walks to my left with a hand between my shoulder blades. Helix closely brings up the rear, and I feel like I’m surrounded by my own Secret Service detail. The eyes of the other diners shift our way. I can’t say I blame them. Three over-six-foot men in finely tailored suits are bound to attract attention, especially from the ladies in the restaurant.

“Ooh, that guy is checking you out, Mamacita,” Phoenix whispers, bobbing his eyebrows at me.

I glance to the left and quickly jerk my eyes away from the man who’s openly staring at me.

“J.P. Jenkins? Hard pass,” I say in a low voice.

“You’re so pretty, Mom. You should really date more.”

“Thank you for saying that, sweetheart, but J.P. isn’t for me. He’s boring as hell. He sat beside me at a charity dinner one night, and I almost fell asleep in my soup.” I shake my head. “Since then he’s asked me out several times, but I always politely decline.”

I may be in my fifties, but I do my best to take care of myself. Elaborate skin care routine? Check. Pilates or yoga several times a week? Also check. I’m petite and have very few wrinkles, though I gain more gray hairs by the hour, it seems.

My eyes move around the room. I’ve dated sporadically in the past, and I’m not opposed to doing so again, but none of the men in this restaurant catch my interest.

Remi checks his phone. “Antonio was running some personal errands, but he just texted that he’s about to pull up.”

We exit the restaurant onto the busy downtown Houston sidewalk in time to see a large black SUV pull up to the curb.Remi’s driver exits and rounds the vehicle, and my eyes almost pop out of my head.

I haven’t seen Antonio Walsh in a couple years, but heavens to Betsy! The man has aged like a fine wine. His dark-brown hair and beard are just as full as they were before, but now there are strands of gray interspersed throughout, giving him a much more distinguished appearance.