Breaking the Rules: The Dating Playbook, Book: 2 by Dietz Mariah & Dietz Mariah

Author:Dietz, Mariah & Dietz, Mariah
Language: eng
Format: epub
Published: 2020-04-29T16:00:00+00:00

My mom swears she can sense bad news. She says before it happens, her right knee gets sore. I wish I had some strange sixth sense. It maybe would have prevented me from stepping out into the main lobby and finding Grandpa and Camilla shaking out umbrellas and arguing about having to pay to come in and see me.

Sophie, the lady at the front desk, is new and doesn’t know me from a stranger on the street, her conviction for making my grandfather pay even more intense than her realization of the many staring at the scene they’re causing.

I quickly make my way over to them, a bucket of penguin food in my hands. I only stepped out here because Joe asked if I’d see how Sophie was doing and ensure the line wasn’t backed up after overhearing a disgruntled customer.

“Hi, Grandpa. Hi, Camilla,” I say, my voice too loud and chipper in an attempt to end their conversation.

Grandpa turns to look at me and then faces Sophie again, pointing a wide and wrinkled index finger at me. “My granddaughter,” he says. “You see her uniform, right? The one that says she works here.”

I place a hand on his shoulder, urging him to step away from the growing line behind us as I try to send a peace offering to Sophie with a pleading smile. She eyes me like my smile is a Trojan Horse, looking away almost instantly.

“I can’t reach your mom, or Paxton, or your dad,” Grandpa tells me. “The news has been talking all day about a story, accusing him of having an affair with a student. They said there’s video evidence and that two other girls have come forward, alleging they also had affairs with him.” His blue eyes are stormy, a brightness shining at the edges like flashes of lightning, revealing his anger as he looks at me, waiting for me to dismantle the accusations. “What’s going on?”

Leave it to Grandpa to memorize my schedule. He’s the only one who knows I volunteer here every Monday, Wednesday, Thursday, and Saturday mornings, though it’s the first time he’s taken advantage of this knowledge.

I glance back at the crowd of patrons and then at Grandpa. “You guys want to go get some dinner?” I ask.

Grandpa’s eyes grow brighter, firing more lightning. “I want some answers. That’s what I want.”

Camilla places a hand on his. “Cole,” she says. “Let’s take her to get some chowder.”

He struggles to swallow back his objections, but then Camilla squeezes his hand, her perfectly shaped and painted red nails a bright contrast against my grandfather’s pale and weathered skin. Slowly, he nods. “Okay.” He nods again. “Let’s grab a bite to eat.”

I find myself nodding as well, pushing the thought past approval and into a realization but suddenly stop, the pail of creamed herring in my hand suddenly feeling like a lead brick, and my boots seeming smellier in the clean lobby. “I need to have someone feed the penguins for me and change my shoes.

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