Page 57 of Royal Agenda

Grace laughed. This was not the grandma she’d left the day they moved her into this condo. “Right?! I’m totally girlfriend material.” She puckered up and sashayed her hips.

“You’re adorable,” Grandma agreed. “Don’t give up on Ryker just yet. Sometimes, a man needs a knock upside the head to think straight.” She pulled out her phone and began texting. “Or a nudge in the right direction.”

Grace’s eyes widened. “Don’t you dare nudge him, Grandma.”

She dropped her phone in her lap as if it zapped her. “I wouldn’t dream of it.”

Grace gave her the side-eye. Grandma smiled softly. Innocently.

“Thanks,” Grace hedged. Something was off, but she couldn’t put her finger on it. Feeling better, but only slightly, Grace began cleaning up the papers, organizing them in case she had to come back to them again.

Grandma’s phone beeped. And beeped and beeped.

“What in the world?” Grace asked.

Grandma shook her head. “I’m late for a mee—” she cut off, “—group paddleboard class.”

“Have fun.” Grace’s attention shifted to the Post-it notes and how she would stack them to maintain order.

A bottle of lemon-scented cleaner appeared on the table. “Don’t forget,” Grandma kissed her cheek.

Grace chuckled. “I would never.”

“That’s my girl.” She bustled out the door, leaving Grace to her work and solitude.

She checked her phone once more to see if Ryker had responded. He had not. She’d promised herself that she wouldn’t be upset if she ended up with a broken heart. And she wasn’t mad—not about that. She was mad because Ryker cut out on her in such a cowardly way.

“It goes against everything Isoladian men are known for!” She snatched two Post-its off at the same time and slammed them on the table. “He should know better.”

Being angry felt better than being rejected, so she grabbed onto that emotion and held tight. Heaven help him if she did see him today–she’d let him know exactly what she thought of his ghosting with a few choice Italian words.

Twenty-One

“He ghosted her.” Nancy finished recounting her conversation with Grace to the Secret Seven sitting around the kiddie pool with their legs shin-deep in warm water, proud of herself for using the slang term correctly.

Rosa crossed herself and muttered in Spanish.

“Not that kind of ghost,” Winnie assured her friend. “Ghosting someone is when you don’t take their calls.” She looked beautiful in a floral swim coverup and matching headband.

“Oh!” Rosa switched from ghost warding to mamma bear mode and shook her fist while hissing something foreboding sounding in Spanish.

“I feel exactly the same way,” Nancy proclaimed, looking down at her tracksuit with the pant legs rolled to her knees. Why didn’t she change before she left the house? Didn’t matter. What mattered was getting Ryker’s head on straight. And Nancy loved straightening things. She cracked her knuckles.

Polly’s eyebrows shot up. “Are you feeling okay? You’re not usually this . . . passionate.”

Nancy drew in a breath. “I feel alive.” The sun warmed her hands and she pushed up her sleeves and drew in a deep breath of chlorine-scented air.

“Good.” Walt adjusted his NASA hat to block the sun out of his eyes. Even he had on swim trunks and a tee shirt. “The question is, what are we going to do about this?” He glanced over his shoulder to make sure they weren't overheard.

Their emergency meeting was poolside because Rosa’s grandchildren were visiting, and she was keeping an eye on them in the playground pool. She wore a large sun hat and a red swim wrap with small tassels. She’d like Leather & Lace and would probably wear what she bought there–unlike Nancy, who kept the dress hidden in her closet. Why was it so hard to wear a dress?! It was just a dress.

The rest of the group huddled close, Don and Walt keeping an eye on those around them, which didn’t look suspicious at all.

“Is that a bracelet?” Polly asked, pointing to Nancy’s wrist.

She glanced down at the jade jewelry, and covered it with her other hand. She’d forgotten that she put it on this morning in a wild moment of abandon. This was why she didn’t change her clothing, because everyone would notice. It was hard enough to feel like she was a different person on the inside–coming to The Palms had done that to her–but to have everyone see that she was different was . . . scary.

Polly smiled softly. “It’s beautiful and goes with your skin color.”

---