which was rather infuriating. After rubbing a hand over a full head of silver hair, he said, “Well, I came over here to tell you that I’ve decided to get the roof oxidized. That will turn the copper green. I thought that might be a happy compromise.”
“A what?” June whispered. “What did you just say?”
Charley’s face seemed to soften. “I said I know how to compromise.”
“Yes, but . . .” She stared at the collar of his shirt. It was sticking up, just slightly, and she had the oddest urge to smooth it back down. “Won’t that ruin the copper?”
“I have to do something. You’ve made that perfectly clear.” Charley’s forehead wrinkled. “I don’t want you to sneak over there and paint it.”
A smile tugged at the corner of June’s mouth. “Well, that’s a shame, as I am actually quite handy with a brush.” Then, because there was nothing else to say, she said, “Have a nice night.”
He gave a slight nod. “You, too.”
June watched as Charley walked down the steps. The man was in good shape, which June couldn’t help but envy. Maybe she should talk to her son-in-law about a few strength-building exercises. It couldn’t hurt.
At the bottom step, Charley turned. “I have plans this evening,” he said, squinting up at her through the sunlight, “with one of your friends.”
“Whoever would that be?” June asked, as if she couldn’t take a wild guess.
“Rose. Rose Weston,” he said. “She’s planning to bring dessert. A strudel.”
June sighed. She did not have the slightest interest in Rose’s strudel.
“Now that you and I are putting this silly war behind us . . .” Charley watched her closely. “Perhaps you’d like to join us.”
Join them?
“No, thank you. I would rather . . .” June waited for inspiration. “I would rather eat bugs.”
A cloud passed over Charley’s face. “I see.” He regarded her for a long moment.
June fiddled with the lace on her sleeve, suddenly uncomfortable. Why was he looking at her like that? Did he . . . want her to come over?
“Then, I just have one request,” he said. “I would appreciate it if she doesn’t add anything funny to that dessert.”
June blinked in surprise. “Like what?”
“Like poison.”
“Poison?” June was baffled. “Rose’s cooking is just awful but . . .”
“Let me be clear.” Charley narrowed his eyes. “Now that we’ve made our peace, tell your friend that you’ve called off the hit.”
The conversation suddenly clicked. “Charley Montgomery,” June said, shocked. “Do you mean to tell me that you did not bring me flowers to apologize, but because you think I’m sending my friend over to kill you? With a strudel? That is the craziest thing I’ve ever heard.”
“I read a lot of mysteries, June.” He shook his head. “I hate to say it, but on occasion, you do remind me of some of the more . . . memorable lead characters.”
June flushed. “Whatever do you mean by that?”
The smile that Charley gave her might, in any other circumstance, be considered charming. “I don’t know that I’d put anything past you.”
For once in her life, June did not know what to say.
He gave her a neighborly wave. “I’ll tell Rose you said hi. I’m not particularly interested in sharing a strudel with her, but she wouldn’t take no for an answer. I have a feeling your friend is quite persistent.”
June blinked. “Yes. Quite persistent indeed.”
Sixteen
Chloe dipped her fork into her pasta and swirled it around. “Thank you again for bringing me here,” she told Ben.
They were at her favorite Italian restaurant, the one that June and Kristine took her to on birthdays and special occasions. It was small and intimate, with red leather booths and wood paneling. The din of clinking silverware, murmured conversation and Italian music created a pleasant soundtrack for the night and Chloe felt happier than she had in ages.
“Of course I brought you here,” Ben said. “It’s your favorite.” He dipped a piece of bread into olive oil and pointed it at her. “If a guy likes you, he’ll pay attention to the little things. You should expect him to.”
Chloe thought for a minute. What type of things could Geoff have possibly picked up on? The fact that she liked pop culture? It was hard to imagine him whisking her off to a Britney Spears concert, so she decided to keep her expectations in check.
“Do you want more wine?” Ben asked. Before she could answer, he topped off her Pinot Noir.
“Thanks.” Chloe reached for the glass. Holding the stem,