“Keep it down!” he snaps, his face flushing. “I play golf with her father!”
“Does he cheat there, too?”
He rolls his eyes and redirects his attention to Winona. "I'm sure you're a nice person,” he says patronizingly.
Her smile doesn’t reach her eyes. "Depends on who’s asking.”
His brows pinch together and his nostrils flare. He makes a small gesture at her. "This isn’t what your father would have wanted, Blake.”
He plays the father card whenever he’s annoyed with me, because he knows how much I hate it.
"You don't get to speak for my father, and you have no idea what he would have wanted for me in a date.”
"Dating’s not the issue. You’re getting close to the age when you should be thinking about looking for a wife." Yes, he went there. He just all but came out and said that Winona’s the kind of woman you screw but don’t marry.
This is over the top, even for Uncle Bill. I'm about to lash out at him when I see that several board members are standing nearby with their spouses, sipping their drinks and watching us with interest. Leroy Dubois, who’s in favor of going public, is standing with Cyril Liates and Albert Statham, who are in my uncle’s “this whole electricity thing is just a passing fad” anti-progress corner.
Of course. My uncle wouldn’t go this far without a reason. He’s trying to provoke me into losing my temper and shouting at him, or throwing a punch. Anything to make me look bad in front of the board.
Winona smiles sweetly at my uncle. “Well, aren’t you cuter than a bug’s ear.”
“Cuter than a…what?” he stares at her, baffled.
Keeping my patented Hudson “everything’s ducky” smile on my face, I tighten my arm around her shoulders and swing her away. We stroll off, leaving my uncle scowling.
“I’m really sorry about that,” I say. “Welcome to Hudson family fun and games. He was trying to provoke me into throwing a punch in front of the board members.”
“And that was the best he could do?” She shakes her head and smiles pityingly. “He’s an amateur. He’s got the family looks, but none of the wit.”
She thinks I’m hot and witty. I try not to grin like a dork. "Whoa. If I didn’t know better, I’d say that was a compliment. Two in one night. I don’t know if I should be flattered or terrified.”
We’ve made it to the buffet table. Rather than answer me, she picks up a mini pastry topped with a strawberry and pops it in her mouth. Juice drips onto her chin, and I pick up a napkin to dab at it.
What I really want to do is lick that sweet dribble off her, then move south. I stifle a groan. Does she know what she does to me? Of course she does – nothing gets by Winona.
“Thank you. I probably shouldn’t be allowed to eat without a bib.” She grins. “Did you get all of it, or am I a walking berry compote?”
“I could tell you, or I could let you obsess about it all evening long, my little fruit rollup.” I return her grin with an evil smile.
“They have these things called ladies’ rooms, and in them, I hear, are these new-fangled inventions called mirrors. If you’ll excuse me, I’m going to go powder my nose.”
I don’t want her to leave my side. It’s not a real date, but just for one evening, I can pretend. Even though I got all of the strawberry juice the first time, I reach over and stroke the napkin over her chin again, just to have a reason to caress the soft skin of her face. Apparently these days I’m into self-torture.
“Now I’ve got it all.” I drop the napkin into a wicker basket trash can that’s tucked under the table.
“So why is your uncle trying to make you go nuclear?”
“He’s fought me ever since I took over the board. Last year, when I started pushing the issue of going public, he went Full Metal Jerkoff.” I shake my head in dismay. “It’s a shame. There were a few years there after my parents died when we were close. He and his wife used to have us over every Christmas. That was wife number two. I liked her, actually. Wife number three has all the charm of a pepper-spray mouthwash, but the divorces were getting too expensive, so he’s sticking with her.”
Her attention has wandered, and I look around to see what she’s looking at.