Blackstone Ranger Guardian - Alicia Montgomery Page 0,42

make everything better by sending her gifts and taking her on dates? It didn’t work that way. How could she be sure he wouldn’t just leave her again?

But her damn heart—and other sensitive parts of her, if she were honest—wanted to believe that he would stay. That this was it—the forever she’d been hoping for since her friends started pairing off.

“Dutchy!”

“What?” The sound of her aunt’s voice and the piercing whistle of the kettle shook her out of her thoughts. “Oh. Sorry.”

Angela had already turned the stove off. “Darling, are you okay? I walked in here, and you were just staring off into space.”

“I … I’m fine.” Getting to her feet, she grabbed the kettle and poured hot water into her mug. “I was just woolgathering. You know. Do you want some tea? How was your day?”

“Oh, you know, the usual. Had two fittings and a new client.” Angela blew at a lock of hair resting on her forehead. “Thanks, dear, but I think I’ll need something stronger than tea after dealing with a total bridezilla.”

“I’ve had my share of those,” she said. “What happened?”

“She wanted this particular style that was on our social media page, but I already sold it out last week. When she found out, she blew her top and threatened to sue for false advertising. Then, she actually demanded I call the other bride and take the dress back and sell it to her—at a discount no less because now it was ‘used.’” Shaking her head, she plopped down on the chair across from Dutchy. “Some people.”

“Ugh, that sounds awful. I’m sorry.”

“Like I said, I need something stronger tonight.” Angela’s eyes twinkled. “Say, how about you and I go out? Let’s have dinner out and then maybe drinks? Where’s that place all you young kids go to? That bar just outside town? The Pen?”

“You mean, The Den?”

“Yeah, that one. I’ll probably be twenty years older than everyone there, but I’m sure they won’t mind serving an oldie like me,” she joked.

“Aunt Angela, you are not old,” she admonished. Angela was over fifty, if she recalled correctly, but her hair was still vibrant and her skin smooth as someone ten years her junior. Like Dutchy, she was petite and curvy, and always dressed nicely, albeit more conservatively, preferring skirts that went below her knees and blouses that buttoned all the way up to her neck.

“I definitely feel old today.” Angela eased her foot out of her heels and leaned back in her chair. “So, how about it, darling? Giorgio’s and then The Den?”

She hesitated, but then gave it a second thought. Well, why not? She couldn’t stay cooped up in here all the time. And when was the last time she spent time with her aunt? Growing up, she always admired and looked up to the sweet but pragmatic and sensible woman, who had an independent streak a mile wide. Of course, she never asked why Angela never married; her aunt was a private person when it came to personal matters.

“All right, Aunt Angela,” she said. “Let’s leave around six?”

Angela’s face lit up. “Sounds fab!”

Later that evening as they split a bottle of wine and had some fabulous Italian food, Dutchy found herself having a good time. They had invited Rosie, too, but she asked for a rain check as she was busy closing up at the pie shop. After dessert and coffee, she and Angela drove out to The Den.

“Oh my.” Angela glanced around as they entered the boisterous and noisy atmosphere of Blackstone’s most popular hangout. Being a Saturday night, it was packed. “It certainly is … something.”

“I can go to the bar and get us more wine,” Dutchy said. “And we don’t have to stay long. If this isn’t your scene, then we can always go back and open up that bottle of merlot in your cupboard.”

“Dutchy! You’re here!”

She turned her head toward the sound of the familiar voice. “Kate?”

Kate Caldwell-Thalassa enveloped her in a hug. “You made it.”

Puzzled, she pulled away. “Made it?”

“She didn’t put up a fight, did she?” Kate asked Angela.

Her aunt laughed. “Had to ply her with food and wine, but it wasn’t hard.”

“What are you guys talking about?” She placed her hands on her hips. “Did you plan this?”

“Nope.” Kate shook her head, her jeweled nose piercing twinkling. “Not us.”

“But who—”

“Come on.” The she-wolf grabbed her hand and dragged her across the crowded room to a doorway leading to the back. “Hey, look who’s here!” she shouted.

There were over