Joe merely chuckles. “YourPoppy?”
Percy smoothly plucks his fork off the table. “Apologies. Old habits die hard.”
I reach for my glass of wine. Joe leaves the appetizers untouched. Maybe he’s also trying to resist the urge to throw them across the table.
Honestly, this is worse than what I was expecting. The tension is almost unbearable. Percy is toying with both of us, pretending innocence while lobbing barbed commentary toward Joe at every opportunity.
“It is rather odd,” Percy continues, “not to have any social media. Don’t you think so, Poppy? I mean, in this day and age, it’s a red flag.”
“I’m a private person.”
“But surely your little business would benefit from it?”
“I have no trouble getting plenty of customers without an Instagram account, but I appreciate the suggestion.”
Because Joe sounds like he’s already on his last straw, I reach under the table and squeeze his knee. He looks over at me and I give him a little smile. His gaze softens.
Percy clears his throat loudly.
“Well, Poppy, surely you’ve heard about the St. Cecilia’s Foundation benefit gala they’re holding in that dinky little town you insisted on moving to?”
“Nope,” I deadpan.
“No? I’m surprised. Apparently, it’s being held at quite an impressive estate. Blakeley Manor, I think the place is called? I’ve already purchased a ticket, of course. You know me. I love charity causes.” Then, because he can’t handle not acting like a jerk for five seconds, he winks at Joe and adds, “By the way, don’t worry. I’ve already covered the bill ahead of time.”
“Enough, Percy.”
He grins cheekily. “Anyway, Poppy, you can’t tell me you wouldn’t love to attend the gala. You love those sorts of things. Dressing up all fancy and writing big checks for good causes. Luckily, I have a spare ticket. I’m sure Joe wouldn’t mind, would he?”
I’m about to tell Percy exactly where he can shove his spare ticket, but Joe clears his throat lightly.
“Actually, I already know about the gala. It’s an annual thing.” He smiles easily. “I’m afraid you’ve ruined the surprise, Percy. I already have tickets for me and Poppy.”
I stare at him.Joe? At agala?
Except, when he meets my eyes, I realize that he’s not even lying. Not completely. He knows all about the annual event, and he probably already does have tickets.
It just wasn’tmehe was planning on taking as his date. Until now, I guess.
Or maybe not. Maybe I’m making too many assumptions. Maybe I’m finding it difficult to discern the truth from lies. Joe is better at fibbing than I expected him to be.
“Great!” Percy croons. “I’ll see you both there, then!”
Chapter Ten: Joe
“Good morning, boys!” Poppy exclaims when Eric and I walk past the kitchen the next morning. “I picked up fresh blueberry donuts for the whole crew!”
Eric grins. “Poppy Minton, have I told you that you’re my favorite customer ever?”
Poppy giggles. “Nope, but I’m happy to hear it. I love flattery.”
“Yeah, I second that,” adds Miguel, wandering in after Eric and heading straight for the huge paper bag full of donuts. “You’re definitely my favorite.”
I step aside, taking a sip of coffee and watching as the crew helps themselves, showers Poppy with compliments, then heads back out into the foyer where we’ll be focusing on the new staircase today.
When we’re somewhat alone, Poppy turns to me. Her smile softens, but I swear I see a spark of panic in her gaze.
“I’m really sorry, Joe.”