The Wedding Pact Box Set - Denise Grover Swank Page 0,159

pulled the waiter aside and requested that he deliver her a regular lemonade instead. But she noticed the difference with her first sip.

“This tastes different.”

“It’s the water,” Garrett said.

“The water?” She waved her glass and sloshed her drink over the side onto her hand.

“They ran out of hard water. Thus its name. This batch was made with soft water.”

“Oh.”

Blair grinned when she bought it, but Neil didn’t look so amused.

As soon as they were done with dinner, Neil pulled out his phone and sighed. “I have to take this. It’s the hospital.” He got up and walked toward the front door, his phone pressed to his ear, although from Garrett’s angle, his phone had a blank screen—no incoming or missed calls or texts. Not that Garrett would have believed it anyway. The timing was too convenient.

But Garrett decided to take advantage of his absence and turned to Blair. “So how long have you and Neil been together?”

She gave him a frosty gaze. “Two years.”

“How did you meet?”

She studied him closely, as though trying to determine if he had an ulterior motive. “At a First Friday.” When he gave her a blank look, she shifted in her seat and explained. “Every first Friday of the month, a bunch of the art galleries and restaurants downtown are open to the public, and they feature local bands and artists. We met at an art gallery. One of the associate attorneys in my office introduced us. He’s an acquaintance of Neil’s.”

“Was it a whirlwind romance?” he couldn’t resist asking.

Her eyebrows lifted, and she gave him a deathly glare.

“She’s lucky to have him,” Aunt Debra said, thrusting her shoulders back like a linebacker preparing to tackle. Unfortunately, her normal personality seemed to be returning along with her faculties.

Garrett lifted his second beer and winked. “Seems like it’s the other way around to me.”

Blair’s shoulders relaxed, and he saw a grin tug at the corners of her mouth.

“How long do you think you’ll continue working, dear?” his aunt asked her, lifting her glass to her mouth and giving her a sly grin. “You’ll want to start having children soon, at your age. The clock is ticking.”

Blair tensed again, and Garrett could see she was biting her tongue. She forced a smile. “I’m not going to quit my job. I love what I do. I’m not sure I even want to have children.”

Aunt Debra choked on the sip of lemonade she’d just taken, her eyes widening in horror. “What?” She started coughing, and she scooted her chair back, the wood screeching on the tiles. She dropped her glass, and it shattered on the hard floor, splattering lemonade on a woman walking behind her.

The young woman shrieked and jumped backward, landing in the lap of a man who was dining with a group of friends at a nearby table. From their Royals baseball shirts, Garrett figured they were grabbing dinner before the game. The man wrapped an arm around her back to steady her, a surprised grin lighting up his face.

Uncle Gene jumped out of his seat, sending the chair flying to the floor. There was panic in his eyes as he shouted, “Does anyone know the Heil Hitler?”

Blair grabbed Gene’s leftover beer and took a long drag.

The older woman was still hacking, but drool was now spilling out of her mouth and down her chin. From the way she was still breathing and as her face was pink instead of blue, it was clear the woman wasn’t really choking.

Garrett shook his head as he picked up a napkin and handed it to his aunt, but she batted it away. “It’s the Heimlich, Uncle Gene, and she doesn’t need it. She’s choking on her own self-righteousness.”

Neil reentered the restaurant as the manager and waiter rushed over to check on Aunt Debra.

“What in the hell happened?” Neil demanded.

Aunt Debra reached over and picked up the cat jar, shaking it at her son. “Dollar!” she choked out.

The waiter, probably worried about his tip, jerked Debra out of her chair and positioned her back against his chest, but he struggled to wrap his arms all the way around her to form the fist he’d need to give her the Heimlich. Out of apparent desperation, he pressed his palms against her instead and tugged her toward him, his hands cupping each of her breasts.

Garrett tried to keep from laughing as he shot a grin at Blair. “I think the waiter owes the kitty a few dollars for that move.”

Aunt Debra screamed and