Page 42 of Wicked Serve

“Good.” I open my menu. Katherine originally suggested Vesuvio’s, a restaurant in town, but when I told Nik that’s where Sebastian works, he got her to agree to a fancy little place in nearby Hudson instead. “I’ve been busy with school and volleyball.”

“My new intern isn’t half as good as you,” she says as she opens the wine list. “The other day, she ordered powder blue tablecloths instead of baby blue. It completely threw off the momentum of the reception planning.”

I wince. I made a mistake like that exactly once, and corrected it before she even noticed. “Yikes. I’m sorry.”

“Not everyone appreciates the details like you do.” She turns her attention to Nik, twisting around one of her rings. “Your grandfather wants to know how things are going.”

“They’re good,” Nik says, glancing at me. “School is fine. Hockey is fine.”

“Good.” She takes a sip of water, pressing her lips together. “Call him soon, please.”

He nods. “I will.”

They both fall silent. I needlessly adjust my napkin as I look between them. A little stiffness, I expected, but this is just awkward.

“Are you in town for the hockey opener tomorrow, Katherine?” I ask after we order our food. “I wish I could make it, but I have an away match.”

A selfish part of me is grateful that I won’t have to pretend to only cheer for Cooper. I’d definitely feel unwarranted jealousy if I noticed girls wearing Nik’s jersey, too.

“Oh, I don’t think so,” she says, fiddling with her rings again.

I blink. “Really?”

Nik’s foot nudges against mine. I give him a look, but he ignores it. Katherine asks him a few more questions about his classes, and he replies to each one, offering just enough information to be a complete answer, but not enough to encourage conversation. I gulp my wine, grateful that the server didn’t card me.

“I’m going to the powder room for a moment,” she says eventually, reaching for her purse. “Be good, you two.”

I turn to Nik as soon as we’re alone. “She doesn’t go to your hockey games? Ever?”

He shrugs. “It’s not her scene. Hasn’t been since she divorced Dad.”

“Not her—she’s your mother.”

“An astute observation.”

“Why did you bring me here?” I bite my lip. “Just so she’d focus on me, not you?”

“I brought you here because I wanted a friend with me.” He leans in, his hand brushing over my thigh. “And because yes, she likes you and misses you. Which is more than I can say about our relationship.”

“Oh, Nik.” I can’t imagine being so formal with my own mother. “Why? What happened?”

He looks at me with the flickering, hesitant expression he wore when he asked me to lunch in the first place. “Ask her about how work is going. I thought you might enjoy talking to her about some of your old clients.”

When we finally wrap up the meal, Nik gives Katherine a perfunctory kiss on the cheek before going to get the car. I spent the lunch chatting with her about work; he seemed content to listen, chiming in occasionally with a comment or question. It was nice to talk wedding planning specifics again, even if the discomfort never faded. It might be boring to most people, but I actually do like pondering the differences between powder blue and baby blue and the respective vibes they bring to a reception.

“I’m so happy to see that Nikolai is finally dating someone,” she says as she slips into her coat. “And that it’s you, especially.”

I freeze with my scarf halfway around my neck. “Oh. We’re not... we’re just friends.”

“Well, even that,” she says, although she raises an eyebrow. “I’ve never seen him with many friends.”

“He has his teammates.” I fight the urge to add something about how she’d know that if she went to his games. It’s not my place to overstep like that, even if I do have my own relationship with her. Whatever happened to cause this rift between Nik and his mother, I’d be willing to bet it has nothing to do with hockey. I’m glad that he wanted me to help him today, even if it was just because I’m someone who knows her.

She has a frown on her face, as if her mind is elsewhere.

“I just worry about him,” she says eventually. She pats down her blond hair, so different from his. He must look more like his father. Her eyes are blue instead of brown, and she has a rounder face. “He’s always been a loner. Never brought girlfriends around, either. But he does look at you in a way I haven’t seen from him.”

My breath catches. Of course she’d want to see that, if she thinks he’s lonely. She’s just reading into things.

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