Page 24 of Whisking It All

“It is, right?” Gavin asked. “I hardly recognized her. Little TJ, all grown up.”

“She goes by Tessa now,” Jamie said, before he could think better of it.

Thankfully, Ethan didn’t seem to notice that his best friend and his daughter were staring at each other across the bar.

“She just got in yesterday,” Ethan said. “She’s going to open the pop-up bakery this year since Cheryl’s on bed rest. And she’ll help out with the festival.”

“That’s great, Ethan,” Gavin said, grinning. “Must be nice to have her home. I don’t know how you do it. I’d go nuts if I didn’t see Brodie for months at a time. Oh! We should introduce them. They’re about the same age.” Gavin twisted in his seat, ready to flag down his son.

Jamie’s stomach sank. No way was he going to sit by and watch Tessa get cozy with Brodie. She deserved so much better than that horndog. She deserved—

What? You?

No, he needed to stay as far away from Tessa as physically possible.

Before he could suggest that they leave well enough alone, Kyla linked her arm through Tessa’s, dragging her across the bar and straight into the crowd clamoring for the bartender’s attention. Jamie followed them with his eyes over the top of his glass, watching as Kyla walked straight into Brodie’s arms, rising up on her tiptoes to plant a kiss on his lips. That’s new. The blonde pulled Brodie’s arms around her waist and made introductions as a wave of relief flooded through Jamie. Tessa wouldn’t be getting cozy with Brodie because her friend already was. Thank God.

“Ethan Hart!” The scolding tone cut through the noise as Dot made her way to their table, an arthritic finger capped with a hot pink acrylic nail wagging in his direction. “I have half a mind to call your mother.”

“What’s wrong, Mrs. Blumenthal?” Ethan asked, his brows narrowing as he watched the irate former kindergarten teacher approach.

“You didn’t tell us TJ was back in town!” Dot said, finally reaching their table and giving Ethan a tap upside the head.

“He didn’t tell us right away either, Mrs. B, if it makes you feel any better,” Gavin said.

“Suck up,” Baz mumbled into his scotch.

“How old is TJ now? No, wait, don’t tell me—you and Stephanie were sixteen when you had that beautiful baby girl, and that was the year Mikey Greenhall got detention for skipping school to see a midday showing at the movie theater, so she must be…” Dot screwed her face up and waggled her fingers, silently counting. “…Twenty-five! Already!”

“How do you do that?” Gavin marveled.

Dot winked and tapped a finger to her temple. “We haven’t seen that girl in years, Ethan. You’ve been keeping her from us.”

“I promise you I have not,” Ethan said, his voice unnaturally even, but Jamie saw the way his hand flexed and closed around his beer bottle.

“She is the spitting image of Stephanie.” Dot turned to Jamie, always eager to fill him in on the things he’d missed by not growing up in Aster Bay with the rest of his friends. He’d been around long enough to have met Stephanie, though, before she and Tessa had moved away, and while there was a certain similarity about their coloring, he didn’t think Tessa looked as much like her mother as Dot claimed. Jamie glanced towards the bar, searching for another glimpse of Tessa, but she’d already been swallowed up by the crowd of locals. “That girl was always a looker. Turned heads everywhere she went. But she only had eyes for this one. High school sweethearts. Such a shame about—”

“You’ll have plenty of time to catch up with her, Mrs. B. Tessa’s staying for a few months. She’ll be helping with the festival,” Ethan interjected, ending Dot’s monologue on the tragedy of high school sweethearts who didn’t stay together.

“Oh! That reminds me. I need to call Pastor Davis and start a meal train for Cheryl and Ricky. Judy!” Dot called as she left to rejoin her table. “Judy, did you remember to call Pastor Davis? I need to know how many pans of macaroni to make.”

Jamie’s phone chimed.

WhiskyBusiness: You don’t strike me as the type who wants a good girl. I think you like your women a little bad.

As he tapped out a reply, Baz groaned, “Here we go again. Are we ever going to play some trivia?”

DiceDiceBaby: Why’s that?

WhiskyBusiness: You appreciate an all-butter pie crust. That means you like a challenge.

DiceDiceBaby: Maybe I just like butter.

“Not your girlfriend, huh?” Gavin said. “That’s a pretty big grin for a text from someone who’s not your girlfriend.”

At the announcer’s stand, Mike Greenhall held up an old school bell, ringing it until the bar quieted down. “Are you ready for this week’s game?” he shouted. The crowd clapped and hooted, the four older women at the front the loudest of then all, Helen’s whoops cutting through the rest of the noise. “Round one’s theme is Hollywood scandals of the past decade.”

Baz, Ethan, and Jamie groaned. “Well, there goes that. We might as well just concede now before Mrs. White gets a chance to gloat,” Baz said.

---