Page 69 of Gold Rush

“Sure am, Dan.”

“I’m still looking for decent general counsel. Let me know if you’re interested. The job is yours.”

“I appreciate that, but I’m happy where I am.” Flynn glances at me. “This is my girlfriend, Rory. Rory, these are the Waylands. They’re good friends of my parents.”

I return smiles that have cooled to polite and assessing. “Very nice to meet you.”

“Likewise,” Lorraine tells me, but she sounds almost … disappointed?

“And this is my uncle, Frank, and my cousin, Perry.” Flynn’s hand returns to my back as we turn to face the other couch.

The reactions are opposite this time. Both men offer me warm smiles, their greetings to Flynn more tentative.

“Rory, what can I get you to drink?” Philippa has reappeared, setting a glass vase filled with the flowers I brought on the center coffee table beside some plates of appetizers.

“Sparkling water would be great, if you have it.”

“I do,” she tells me. “Coming right up.”

“Flynn? Scotch?” Julian suggests, holding up the bottle I gave him.

“I’ll take a water too, Mom,” he says, guiding me over to the open couch.

Philippa nods on her way to the kitchen. “Sure thing.”

“Rory likes ice and lime in hers,” Flynn adds as we sit.

I elbow him discreetly. “I’m fine with whatever.”

“I have ice and limes too,” Philippa says. “It’s no trouble at all.”

“Thank you,” I call after her.

“Sounds like your new job has been keeping you awfully busy, Flynn,” Dan comments, helping himself to one of the bruschetta. “We were hoping you might be able to visit our new place on Nantucket.”

“It has,” Flynn answers, adjusting his tie. “I would have loved to make it, but the Hamptons are a quicker trip from our apartment.”

He tosses it out casually, but I believe it’s intentional, unlike my earlier gaffe. Flynn’s gaze is on his father, not Dan, observing his reaction to the revelation.

“I wasn’t aware you were living together,” Julian states. “Your mother and I hadn’t even had a chance to visit your old place.”

Flynn shrugs. “New one is better.”

“We would love to have you over for dinner sometime,” I say.

“We would,” Flynn confirms. “Rory can whip up one of her specials for you guys.”

I nudge his ribs again. He glances at me, the corners of his eyes creasing as he flashes me a wide, genuine grin.

There’s a sudden clench in my chest.

“That would be nice,” Julian states, missing the subtext.

“Did you move to New York recently, Rory?” Flynn’s uncle, Frank, asks.

“I moved back recently,” I reply. “I grew up in the city. Just left for college and for law school.”

“Rory is a Kensington,” Julian declares. “One of Oliver and Hannah’s daughters.”