Page 20 of All Hale the Queen

He places a hand on my shoulder, and I shudder. Not in a good way. Scooting my chair to the side a little, I manage to angle my body and shrug away from his unwelcome touch.

He’s not deterred by my brush-off. “Hey, I’m glad I saw you here today. I was wondering if you wanted to be my date to the charity dinner next month.” His smile is hopeful, while mine falters.How many times is this guy going to ask me out before he finally accepts the word no?

“That’s very nice of you to ask,” I say, “but I already have a date.” It’s a lie, but I know Remi will agree to be my escort.

J.P.’s face falls, but then he rallies like the grand champion of all the delusional men in the world. “That’s okay. As long as you save me a dance.”

Dammit all to hell.I keep my tone as polite as possible, despite talking through gritted teeth. “Actually, since I’m one of the organizers, I probably won’t have much time for dancingor socializing. But I appreciate that you’re coming out for the event, J.P. It’s a very special cause for me.” I pick up my fork and perform my best socially acceptable dismissal with a cheery, “Enjoy your lunch.”

He seems to finally get the hint because he replies, “You too, Ophelia.” And then he’s struck with another bout of obliviousness. “I’ll be thinking of a good song we can dance to together so I can request it with the band. Something romantic, I think.”

And with a wink, he turns and walks away. Claudia and I turn our heads slowly toward each other in bewilderment.

“I swear, that fool is either delulu or a complete creep.” She takes a long swig of her iced tea before plunking the glass onto the table and smacking her lips. “I’m pretty sure it’s the latter. I wouldn’t be surprised if he dresses like his mother and stabs women in the shower.”

I giggle. “Like Norman Bates?”

She nods. “He does own a small chain of hotels.”

Shaking my head with mirth, I signal the server for our check before turning back to my friend. “I think J.P. is just an overeager pest. But I need to call Remi tonight and let him know I need him to be my date.”

***

“Hey, Mom,” my son answers. “What’s up?”

“Hi, sweetheart. I’m sorry to bother you at work, but I have a favor. J.P. Jenkins asked me to the Beverly’s Hope charity dinner, and I really don’t want to go with him, so I told him I have a date already. Would you like to be my date?”

I hear the creak of leather, as if he sat up suddenly. “Is he bothering you?” he asks sharply.

“No, no,” I assure him. “He’s just persistent and caught me off guard while I was having lunch.”

Remi’s voice seems to relax. “I’m taking Serena with me, but you’re welcome to go with us.”

My shoulders sink. “Oh, that’s right. I should have remembered since I approved the seating chart, but that was weeks ago.” I worry my bottom lip. “It’s all right. I wouldn’t want to be a third wheel.”

“No, really, Mom. You know it’s not like a real date with Serena. She just loves any chance to dress up, so I usually add her as my plus one to events.”

Serena has been Remington’s friend since they were little kids. As far as I know, it’s only a friendly relationship, though I get the distinct feeling Serena would like it to be more.

“Okay, if you’re sure.”

“We’ll pick you up at 6:30, if that’s okay. Oh, you know what? I did buy a ticket for Antonio too, remember?” My heart flutters at the mention of his name, and I think I make a noise that resembles the wordyesbefore Remi continues. “He loves the New York strip at The Heights Hotel, and it’s for a good cause, so I asked if he wanted to attend.”

“Now that you mention it, I do remember,” I muse. “I put him at our family table.”

I hadn’t thought a thing about it when I went over the seating chart because I wasn’t freaking sleeping with the burly man at that time.

“Great. Just have him seated beside you. That will keep the numbers even too since the rest of the family will be paired off.”

“I, um, okay,” I agree, feeling a little flustered at the thought of sitting beside Antonio for a real date. Or is it a fake date? A real fake date?

Hell, I have no idea, but the thought of Antonio Walsh in a tuxedo makes certain parts of my anatomy pulse.

***

My thoughts did absolutely no justice to reality.

After I’d spoken to Remi, he’d immediately called Antonio and asked him to “keep an eye on me” at the dinner. Antonio, in turn, had called me and informed me in his growly accented voice that he’d been keeping more than just his eye on me that evening.