showing us a photo of him and the guy in the pizza outfit.
“Are you dating her?” Janice asked.
“He’s not dating her,” Mason snapped. “Sonia is his secretary.”
“I was just asking,” Janice snapped back, turning her nose away from Mason and crossing her arms over her chest.
“No, I’m not dating her.” Brad dropped his gaze back to his phone. There was a long pause, where he stared blankly at his phone, and then he added sullenly, “She has a boyfriend.”
Mason tone hardened. “I hope you’re not planning on doing anything stupid.”
He shut his phone and gave Mason a pointed look. “I’m not dating her, okay? I’m not planning to date her. I just like to annoy her because she makes me laugh. It’s refreshing. When I’m not home or out, I’m at work, and so it makes sense that we’re friends since we see each other all the time.”
Mason finally chilled, and he smirked. “I’m pretty sure she hates you.”
“She only acts like she hates me because she secretly loves me.” Brad winked.
“I think I want to meet this Sonia girl,” Becky said, smiling.
As their conversation continued, I slipped out of the booth. I took out the candles from my back pocket and split the candles between Mary and Sarah.
The cake was a princess cake, which the girls had picked out for Becky. I positioned the chocolate cake with pink letters spelling out happy birthday on top in front of her.
Becky clasped her hands together and smiled so big that it warmed me from the inside out. “I love it.”
We all sang a loud, slightly out-of-tune rendition of “Happy Birthday,” after which Mary scooted onto Becky’s lap.
“Make a wish,” Sarah exclaimed.
After Becky closed her eyes tightly, she blew out her candles.
And as I gathered everyone for a family photo behind Becky, Sarah pointed to the cake. “Do you like it, the decorations? It’s an angel.” She pointed to the little pink figurine on top of the chocolate frosting.
At a closer glance, I realized the figurine had wings, so I’d been wrong about it being a princess, or maybe there was such a thing as a princess with wings.
My thoughts were brought back to the last time I’d visited Natalie at the graveyard. On that desperate day, I’d asked Nat, “Please … send us an angel.”
And just as I wondered what Becky had wished for, I wondered if this was my wish come true.
Chapter 22
Charles
By the time we put the girls to bed, it was almost ten in the evening.
I headed downstairs to give Becky her present.
I rubbed the back of my neck and cleared my throat. I’d racked my brain, trying to think of the perfect gift to give her, and I just hoped and prayed that she liked it.
“Hey,” I said, strolling in to the kitchen.
She wore her hair up in a sexy bun and her pink plaid pajama pants that I’d grown to love. No matter what she wore, she looked beautiful. She took out the cake from its plastic container and proceeded to put it in Tupperware.
“Did you have fun?”
She smiled up at me, and I swore everything else around me dulled to a buzz. Remember the lovesick-puppy syndrome? It was getting bad.
“I had an amazing time. It’s weird, but I don’t remember a birthday where I was celebrated by so many.” Her chin dipped down to her neck with almost-self-conscious gratitude. “Thank you, Charles.”
“You’re welcome.” I cleared my throat. “I realized I never gave you your gift.”
She peered up at me with amusement. Her cheeks turned a rosy pink, and she averted her gaze. “Charles, you don’t have to give me anything. You just don’t understand how much you guys have given me so far.”
I shook my head and approached her. Within my hands, I held an envelope. I didn’t know if she would take my gift, but I knew it was what she wanted.
I reached for her hand, and for a moment, I just halted, looking at her, noting how, earlier, she’d had on some eye shadow that highlighted her eyes. But now, she was barefaced and still astonishingly beautiful.
I opened her palm and placed the paper within her hands. Her eyebrows pulled in together, and her smile widened. “What’s this?” Her eyes squinted and lit with an inner glow. “Are you the sadistic type to take me out on my birthday and then fire me on my birthday? Is this a termination letter?”
I smirked because I couldn’t help it. “Just open it.”