Page 136 of Faultlines

I tip my head toward the ceiling and count to three before responding. “Still not a date.”

“I’m not sure anyone has informed the rest of the town about that distinction.”

I open the folder, and Marisol’s teasing is forgotten. Daniel Mercer wants to build a second residential program. For boys.

It’s more than just an idea. According to these documents, Daniel intends to personally fund and champion the proposal. I hadn’t expected it, but now I’m actually looking forward to dinner.

I’m passing the time before my dinner meeting when Lucy and Sloane barge in, shattering my tranquility. As usual, they want me to settle an argument about something trivial.

Our conversation is interrupted by the distant rumble of an approaching vehicle, the sound growing louder as it nears the house. The three of us instinctively move to the windows as a black luxury SUV, polished to a mirror shine, makes its way up the drive toward the house.

Sloane whistles. “Well.”

Lucy’s gaze remains fixed on the vehicle. “That’s a very expensive vehicle.”

“That SUV costs more than my house,” Sloane replies.

“You live for free on your parents’ vineyard,” I remark.

She shifts her weight to one hip. “Rude.”

The vehicle glides to a stop directly out front. The driver’s door opens as a man in a dark suit steps out.

Sloane claps her hands with delight. “Oh, yes.”

Before I can stop her, she strides toward the front door, with Lucy and me close behind. By the time I reach the foyer, she has already flung open the door, planted herself on the porch like a suspicious security guard.

The driver approaches politely, his footsteps soft on the wooden porch. “Good evening. I am here for Ms. Bennett.”

Sloane’s eyes narrow. “Are you now?” The poor man looks momentarily confused, a flicker of uncertainty in his professional demeanor.

Lucy appears behind her. “Ignore her. We all do.”

The driver hands me a crisp business card. “Mr. Mercer asked that I drive Ms. Bennett to dinner this evening.”

Sloane turns to me with an alarming grin. “He sent you a car.”

“It’s just transportation, and I didn’t say anything to either of you because I knew you’d make a big deal out of it,” I insist, though my cheeks are burning.

“Transportation that comes with a chauffeur.”

“And a blush. You’re definitely blushing,” Lucy says.

“I am not.”

Lucy grins. “Tell that to your face.”

Before I can defend myself further, another voice joins the conversation. “What’s happening?” I turn to find Ellie peeking around us. Her eyes dart from the imposing SUV outside to the driver, then back to me. Realization dawns on her face in stages. “Oh.”

I already dislike that tone. “Ellie.”

“Mom. Is that car here for you?”

Unfortunately, the driver steps forward just then, his voice politely clear. “Ms. Bennett?”

Sloane makes a choking sound that suspiciously resembles stifled laughter.

“It is a business meeting,” I state firmly.