Page 47 of The Confidentiality Clause
I work to maintain a smile. It’s easy to hear the underlying message in Shaw’s words.
“Good,” Mom says with a smile. “Now, how about we eat dinner? I made lasagna, and there’s garlic bread and salad as well.”
“Sounds amazing,” I say.
Shaw and Sutton follow my mom to the dining room. I hang back to wait for Ariel. She steps up beside me.
“The flowers were a nice touch. Now when she sees them dying, she’ll be reminded of how you don’t come by often enough to replace them.”
Ouch. Note to self: Have Marie send weekly flowers to my mom. Problem solved.
“Starting off the night heavy on the insults,” I say as we make our way to the dining room. “Should I be worried you’re going to throw garlic bread at me like you did at my office?”
“As long as you’re on your best behavior, no.”
“And I’m guessing you’re the judge of that?”
She grins. “Naturally.”
I shake my head. “You’re something else, Duke.”
“It’s okay to admit you like it, Carolina,” she says as we walk into the dining room.
Ariel takes a seat, and the only one left at the table is next to her, so I take it. She side-eyes me as I do.
“So, Ariel, how’s being a realtor treating you? It feels like forever since we’ve had a chance to catch up,” Mom says as she serves herself some salad, then passes the bowl to Sutton.
I lean over and whisper, “Looks like you don’t come around much either.”
She smiles and hisses through clenched teeth, “They’re notmyparents.” Then louder, she says, “It’s going great, thank you for asking. How’s your garden going?”
My mom immediately starts rambling about weeds in her flower beds, and how big her squash are this year. The salad bowl gets passed to me. I put some on my plate, then pass it to Ariel.
“Not going to tell her about Houston Vonjerkface?” I ask under my breath.
She cracks a smile. “Be quiet or I’ll bring up your job.”
I catch Shaw eyeing us across the table with an interested expression. I straighten in my chair. Neither he nor Sutton need to have any reason to analyze us.
“Maybe next year you can teach me how to garden,” Ariel says once my mom finishes her monologue about the soil quality of her tomato plants. “I’d love to have a small garden in my back yard.”
Mom beams. “That would be wonderful! Especially since my daughter refuses to learn.” She gives Sutton a pointed look.
“I’ve sent you photos of the plant cemetery in our house,” Sutton explains. “I’m terrible with plants, and Shaw is no better.”
“Hey, I kept that cactus alive, untilsomeoneover-watered it,” Shaw says as he spoons lasagna onto his plate. Gooey cheese stretches over the side of the dish. My mouth waters. It’s been too long since I’ve enjoyed my mom’s lasagna. Hopefully there will be enough left to take some home with me after this. It can be my trophy for surviving the inevitable interrogation.
“It looked dry!” Sutton says.
I laugh. “It’s a cactus, aren’t they supposed to be dry?”
She shoots me a glare. “And what kind of plants doyouhave?”
Ariel snorts. “None. He doesn’t even have any flowers in front of his house.” Everyone looks at her in confusion. She quickly adds, “I’m guessing. He doesn’t seem like the gardener type.”
I give her a wide-eyed look. She cringes.
“Brock used to help me in the garden all the time,” Mom says with a sweet smile. “I’m sure he has some plants.”
