eye, but he’s too caught up with a story my dad is telling. “Well,” I say, “I’d hoped on getting poinsettias as part of the Christmas theme.”
Olivia lets out a high-pitched laugh. “Oh, Lil. No! They’re so old-fashioned.”
Mamma nods. “I’ve been trying to tell her that.” I stare at Mamma, trying to explain by the sheer look in my eyes that she’s not helping.
Mamma touches Olivia’s arm. “Let me get you a drink. Red wine OK?”
“Lovely.” Olivia throws her gloves on the nearest table, and fusses with her jacket. “I hope you’re not upset, Lil? I didn’t do the wrong thing, did I?” For a brief second she looks contrite, and again I wonder if I’m making too much out of nothing.
“I’m sure they’re lovely, Olivia. I guess we’ll make them work. Although we had planned on a more festive—”
“Great.” She cuts me off as she twirls her wedding ring on her finger, a dazzling diamond that probably cost more than my house.
Damon wanders over, smiling like a loon. He loops an arm around my waist. “Your dad says he’s got the bachelor party all sorted. I intend to win big, and show the old men how it’s done.”
“Is that so?” I ask, arching a brow. Thankful he’s finally beside me.
“Darling, I was just about to tell Lil all about Katie. All those tête-à-têtes you two have when you come to New Orleans… I thought maybe it’s not too late to fly Katie here. She could definitely help with the menu.”
Mamma returns with an over-full glass of red wine, and manages to slosh half out before handing it to Olivia.
Olivia grabs a napkin from the table and wipes the side of her glass. Poor Mamma looks mortified. I shake my head, trying to signal to her it’s OK.
“Katie’s a lovely girl, quite famous in her own right as a chef these days, works alongside a Michelin-starred someone-a-rather. Damon adores her! Always rushes straight over there when he arrives in New Orleans. Don’t you, darling?”
I give Damon a closed-lip smile as my pulse speeds up. Damon has never once mentioned anyone other than Charlie when he visits New Orleans. I take a step back from him; his hand falls from my waist. “You rush over where exactly?” I keep my voice neutral but I’m sure everyone can tell from the clench of my jaw it’s the first I’ve heard of…Katie.
Damon has the grace to blush. “Katie’s an old friend of mine from high school—”
“They were childhood sweethearts.” Olivia puts a hand to her chest. “Such a sweet girl, lovely family too.”
Damon says, “We were just friends in high school.” He clutches my hand, and gives it a squeeze, but right now I have the most immense urge to ask Olivia what she’s playing at here. And Damon, too. Lunches with his childhood sweetheart?
“So you catch up with Katie a lot, then?” I ask Damon, finding it almost impossible to keep the hurt from my voice.
He swallows hard. “Charlie and I go to her restaurant when I visit New Orleans. We talk shop, that’s all. There’s really nothing more to say.”
We stand silently. Anger courses through me and in equal measure I feel like a fool. Olivia smiles benevolently, and I make my mind up about her. She’s intent on creating a wedge between us for some inexplicable reason. My dad must sense the awkward vibe radiating from us. He scoops up a platter of oysters Damon prepared and waves it under my nose. Immediately I cup my mouth and run to the bathroom.
Damon lifts the quilt up to my chin, and kisses my forehead. “I’ve left a pitcher of water here, and there’s soup in the fridge when you’re up to it.”
I nod, truly miserable. Being sick this close to Christmas, especially with so much work needing to be done, and Cee having to take up the slack at the café is the worst possible timing. “Sure.”
He sits on the edge of the bed; the slight movement makes me close my eyes against waves of nausea.
“You were angry last night,” he says, stroking my hair back. “About Katie.”
I bury myself further under the blankets. The night comes rushing back. “Yes, Katie. An old flame…one you catch up with when you go back to New Orleans. Which is fine, except you neglected to mention it to me.”
He laughs, he actually laughs.
I scowl. “Which part of this is funny, Damon?”
“The Katie part. She’s not an old flame, not even a teeny tiny flicker of a flame.”
I let out a drawn-out sigh. “Right, well, your mother didn’t seem to think that was the case.”
He leans over me, his face close to mine, his wavy hair falling forward. I resist the urge to tuck it back for him.
“Lil, Katie was one of my best friends throughout school. We both loved cooking, still do, and now she’s on her way to being one of the best chefs in America.”
“She sounds like the whole package, Damon.” I try to keep the jealousy at bay but it ekes out anyway.
He grins.
“Don’t grin at me!”
He strokes my hair back. “You’re beautiful when you’re jealous, you know that?”
I scoff. “I don’t know why you’re not taking this seriously, Damon. Your mother blurting it out like that last night made me feel about this big.” I hold my thumb and finger together. “I had no idea you spend your weekends in New Orleans gallivanting and doing who the hell knows what.”
He throws his head back and laughs. “She’s gay, Lil.”
“So?” I pull the quilt over my head. She’s gay? “But your mother said…” I muffle through the quilt.
He pulls it down and kisses the tip of my nose. “She’s a great girl, and my mother has always assumed we’d be perfect for each other. Her family knows my family very well. But Katie hasn’t told them she’s gay, so when we were younger we let them think what they wanted. It was easier for her and everyone assumed we were a couple.”
“I thought…”
“I know what you thought.” He stands and grabs a sweater from the drawer, with one quick movement pulls it over his head. “I’d never hurt you, Lil. Ever.”
My stomach is a queasy lump, and I blush. “I’m an idiot.”
“No, you’re not. In future I’ll tell you when I plan on gallivanting around New Orleans. Or better yet, you come for a weekend with me.”
He
