Page 24 of Game Changer

“It wasn’t the best-smelling dip in the world.”

“Was it the worst?” she bounces the question at me with a playful glint in her eye.

I shrug a shoulder and carry on with my story after taking a sip of the soda I ordered. “I spilled it on William’s very expensive jacket. It was a big green blob just sitting there soaking into the fabric.”

“Rest in peace to that boy’s jacket.” She looks up as if she’s gazing toward the heavens. “Did you at least offer to replace it?”

“I did,” I affirm with a brisk nod. “He wouldn’t hear of it.”

“You should still do something for him.” Her perfectly arched brows bob up and down behind her glasses.

Hildy has absolutely no reservations when it comes to talking about sex. I’m a little surprised that she hasn’t asked me if I’m “keeping myself busy with a man.” That’s her somewhat subtle way of finding out if I’m getting any lately.

I scratch the center of my forehead. “I’ve thought about getting him a gift.”

“You’re the best gift that man could ever receive, Opal.”

I smile softly. “If we’re anything, it’s just friends.”

“Some of the world’s best love affairs began as friendships,” she tells me. “I can name at least twenty examples.”

I know all twenty of them very well because she’s run through that list with me time and time again. My parents top it. My grandparents on my dad’s side hold the number two spot. From there, the list extends beyond the family to big screen legends and music superstars. I haven’t had the heart to tell her that at least half of the couples on her list have split up.

I change the subject effortlessly by talking about her legacy. “William did mention that he loved playing Turquoise Crown with his brother when he was a kid, so I was wondering maybe…”

“That’s a great idea!” she interrupts me enthusiastically. “We’ll swing by my house after lunch. You can grab one of the limited editions of the game to give to him.”

The limited editions of Turquoise Crown were manufactured during the holiday season, a year after the game was first released. All the game pieces are covered with real gold, and the board itself was crafted in much more colorful hues than the original. Everything is contained in a gorgeous wooden case instead of packaged in a cardboard box.

When the limited editions hit store shelves, they were priced at several hundred dollars each. Time and demand have boosted the cost into the thousands.

I wouldn’t usually ask for one, but I know that Aunt Tildy has an entire room in her home devoted to the limited editions. The last time I checked, she had at least two hundred copies of the three thousand that were produced. I have no idea if she bought them or if they were part of her deal with the company that distributed them.

“I can sign it for him?” She winks. “That will make it worth even more than it already is.”

I doubt that William Knight is the type of man who worries about money. I have a feeling that the gesture of a gift from me to him will mean a lot more than the monetary value of it.

A bonus is that it will help erase the lingering guilt I feel over dumping smelly dip on the sleeve of his suit jacket.

I reach across the table to squeeze her hand. “Thank you, Aunt Hildy.”

She pats my forearm. “It’s my pleasure, Opal. Put me down for the fish.”

My brow furrows. “What?”

“When you and William get married, I expect you to have the reception at Howerton House. They offer a few different entrees, so I want the fish.”

I laugh so hard tears well in my eyes. Aunt Hildy knows my history. She’s well aware of why I’ve sworn off marriage for the rest of my life, but her comment is so completely unexpected I can’t help but find it hilarious.

“Go ahead and laugh,” she finally says when I settle down. “I can spot a future couple a state away, and even though I only caught a glimpse of you next to him at the soft launch of the bar, I saw something special.”

“You didn’t,” I disagree gently. “For the record, my stance on marriage hasn’t changed. It’s still a big no for me. Besides, I don’t think William’s interested in me that way, or any way for that matter.”

“Think again.” She leans back to pick up her drink. It’s what she always orders. It’s a Shirley Temple in a tall glass with double ice.

With her glass in her hand, I know what she’s waiting for, so I pick up my glass of soda.

She taps her Shirley Temple against my soda and sighs. “To Opal and William and their love story.”

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