Page 101 of Blindly Yours

“Rose,” Cynthia hisses, leaning across the table. “Why didn’t you tell me? I’m so embarrassed I don’t even know my own building manager.” She covers her eyes.

I hold up my hands before Rose can open her mouth. “It’s really ok. I try to stay behind the scenes as much as I can.”

There’s a long, painful pause, during which no one speaks until Helene comes through the door with a serving tray full of food.

“Pesto chicken, grilled yellow potatoes, roasted cherry tomatoes, grilled asparagus with truffle parmesan…” She lists off the plates as she arranges them on the table. “Enjoy.” She smiles warmly and heads back inside.

“So, your father is a mechanic,” Desmond says as he slowly selects a piece of chicken, having apparently recovered from the shock. “What about your mother?”

I spoon some potatoes onto my plate. “She stayed home with me when I was a kid. She occasionally picked up a few hours at the local deli slicing meat, but only when we needed the extra cash.”

Cynthia is cutting her asparagus quietly, methodically.

“Do your parents live in the area?” George asks.

“No, they’re back in Wisconsin where I grew up.”

“What brought you to Minneapolis?” Henry asks.

I hold my tongue when I remember the decision Amber and I made together to move here. I’d bet a large sum that none of Rose’s family knows I’ve been married or that I have a daughter. And tonight’s probably not the night to reveal that.

“I had a friend here with connections in the property management industry, so I took the leap.”

“So, Rose,” Cynthia turns to her daughter. “What did the two of you do at the lake?”

Rose has put two cherry tomatoes and a small slice of chicken on her plate, but she hasn’t touched any of it.

“We, uh. Well, Nate has a canoe, so we went out on the water.” She gulps. “And we went hiking.”

Henry raises an amused brow. “Youwent hiking?”

Rose nods.

Henry eyes me with a sympathetic smirk. “Sorry, man.”

I chuckle. “Seemed to me like she enjoyed it.” When I turn to her, she hesitates before peering up at me with all kinds of guilt written on her face, like she expects me to get angry with her right here in front of her family.

“I’ve hardly seen you step off the pavement, Rose.” Cynthia stirs her food on her plate. “I certainly hope you didn’t wear those Pradas I just bought you. I can’t imagine trying to get the mud out of—”

“I wore hiking boots, Mom,” Rose interjects. “I’m not dumb. And yes, I…had fun.”

Cynthia looks up and locks eyes with her daughter. “So, the two of you…” Her gaze flicks to mine. “You’ve been seeing each other for how long?”

“Almost two months,” Rose replies firmly.

“It’s pretty serious, then?” Cynthia plasters on the fakest smile I’ve ever seen.

Jeez, this is worse than I thought.

“I mean…” Rose shrugs. “We’re exclusive if that’s what you mean.”

“Where do you live?” Cynthia asks me.

“Silver Creek,” I reply, and when she looks confused, I add, “It’s just past Monticello.”

She sets down her glass of wine and turns to Rose. “Oh, it was Nate you stayed with during the storm?” She’s finally putting it all together.

Rose nods. “Yes, but that was before we were dating.”

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