Page 71 of Twist of Date

“Darling, you’re lying to yourself and doing us all a great disservice by not being honest. You’re in a mood. I felt it the moment you stepped foot on my property.” She doesn’t look mad, but disappointed that I’m not being honest.

I bite the inside of my cheek, trying to control my rising anger.

“Spit it out, dear,” Ruth says on a huff.

“You went off course. We have rules for a reason,” I snap and Ruth’s eyebrow rises slightly. Dorthy’s head snaps back and forth between us. “Match dates are not made personal like this until after date number three.” I cross my arms over my chest.

Her face remains near impassive except when her eyes shift to something over my shoulder. It’s quick, but it sets her in motion.

“I think this conversation would be better had in private. You’re going to cause a scene,” Dorthy chimes in sharply.

“You’re right, Dorthy. I’d much rather be chewed out by my granddaughter without a crowd.”

Dorthy replies with a noise I can only describe as disgusted and Grams adds, “Let’s go to the kitchen, Layla.” So I follow the women out of the yard and into the house.

Minutes later, alone in the kitchen, I let out my frustration.

“The rule is three dates, sanctioned by HEA and then the couple can go on dates outside of the program. Having a client bring his date to a non-HEA, Inc. event is not acceptable.”

“Oh, is this about Cole?” Dorthy asks but is ignored.

“Yes, I went off the plan a bit, but I wanted Dorthy to have a chance to meet Mina, so I thought that having a date under the supervision of me, the matchmaker, would be fine. I don’t appreciate being ripped into, darling,” she informs me. Everything in me wants to welt and cry into my grandmother’s arms that I fell in love with a man I can’t have, but that’s not the route I took. I took the path that allows me to dictate how my business is run, so I must stay the course.

“Ruth…” I start and an unladylike snort comes from the peanut gallery. Some people who know my grandmother don’t understand why I call her by her first name as a professional courtesy. I ignore her and continue, “I understand that you’ve been matchmaking for a long time, but we have rules and a process for a reason. Your personal relationship with the client does not outweigh the rules.”

Again, that single arch of the brow is all I get before she pulls her gaze away from me and gives Dorthy her attention.

“Dorth, can you please excuse us for a moment? I think my granddaughter needs a moment to compose herself.”

I expect Dorthy to pout at our demand to leave gives as much as she loves the drama, but she surprises me when she nods and leaves. I watch over her shoulder as the woman leaves the house, shaking her head, either disappointed in the turn of conversation or that she’s missing out on the tea.

“Layla, I don’t particularly enjoy being reprimanded in my own home in front of my dearest friend. I understand you are clearly going through something emotional as you have been acting off for some time. Is there something you wish to share with me?” she asks. And this whole scene is reminiscent of the handful of times she called me out on bad attitudes as a child and teen.

I huff, not ready to tell her what I’ve gone and done. “I don’t take rules that I’ve set in place in order for my business to succeed lightly. Every single person under the employment of Happily Ever After, Inc. is expected to follow the protocol,” I snap.

She cocks her head. “I do understand, but do you hold yourself under those same expectations?”

“Yes,” I grit out. “Besides, that’s not the point, Ruth.” I hiss just as my gaze lands on the man who has caused all this mess as he steps into the kitchen. I sigh, alerting Grams that we’ve got company.

In less than a blink of an eye, she whirls on the newcomer and says with much excitement, “Cole, dear. You found us.”

I feel my heart crash into my chest with a mix of dread and desire, an all too common duet of emotions when it comes to this man.

Ruth starts to walk toward Cole, her head held high, as if there were any other way.

“Layla, we can talk later. I’m sure you’ve got a lot on your mind. I need to return to my guests. Cole, you weren’t looking for me, were you?”

She keeps walking, hardly slowing as she nears him. Clearly, she knows his answer before his head starts to shake.

“I was looking for Layla.” His voice is a healing balm to my achy heart, but I know I can’t fall victim to what this man can do to me without even trying.

“Very good,” she tells him and then it’s just us.

“Layla, I can’t help but feel like you’ve been hiding from me.” Cole leans his palms flat onto the massive island. He’s a smart man for staying on his side. Space is good in this moment.

“You brought a date,” I respond, somehow mustering the confidence to speak the words and not sound whiney or hurt. The less emotional I sound right now, the better. I am a woman, hear me roar.

“Fake news.” His lips tip up on one side.

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