“Of course.” I smile. “Thank you, George.”
I don’t know how a gentleman his age could protect me from attackers, but I don’t voice it. I’ve been here for some time, and chances are I’d be the one protecting him.
I shut the door and walk to the bench at the bus stop, hoping Jeff will find me due to his super-developed sixth sense.
Thirty minutes into waiting, I see Jeff’s limping figure walking toward me. He’s favoring his right leg even more than he usually does, and a worried feeling comes over me.
“Well,” he greets me with a laugh, “look at you. Parents treated you well, I see.”
“Nope, not the parents.” I laugh, patting a spot next to me. “Come here. Let’s talk.”
He takes a seat next to me and looks at my face. “You look happy. And you didn’t want to go to see them. Told you they’d be happy to see you too.” He looks genuinely excited for me, and I feel my spirits lifting after the news Ezra delivered about his company.
“That’s not them though.”
“Who then? Who put that look on your face?” He points at me with a smile. “It has to be a boy?”
“Well,” I start gleefully, showing him my ring.
“Kiddo, that was fast.” He peeks at the ring. “That thing is big.”
“I know.” I wince, making Jeff chuckle. “It’s awful.”
“It’s not bad. Maybe the size equals his love and devotion to you,” he says, squinting and not sounding convinced himself.
“Right.” I start laughing. “Let me get you something. Be right back.”
I run to the car, grab the bags, and ask George to stay inside. Not looking happy, he agrees but keeps a watchful eye over me. I can feel his gaze the whole time.
When I place all my goodies in front of Jeff, he looks at me with round eyes.
“That’s for me?”
“Yeah.”
He wipes his nose. Then sniffles and wipes it again. “Thank you.”
“No biggie.” I shrug it off, not wanting him to feel like he owes me something. “I’m just returning the debt. Let me help you stash them in your cart. Where is it?”
“It’s over there, right around the corner.”
I make a move to grab the bags and get them to the cart when Jeff takes my hand. “Leave it. I’ll take them. Sit down and tell me what’s going on.”
I plant my ass back on the bench and explain to him the whole story, from the very beginning. By the time I’m done, he’s watching me with wide eyes.
“Wait, so the man whose coffee you’ve been spiking with salt istheKing? The one from King Developers?”
How come even Jeff knows about them, and I don’t?
“Turns out that way, yes.” I shrug one shoulder.
He looks thoughtful when he speaks next. “I used to play at their parents’ anniversary.”
“What?” I cry out, drawing the attention of two people walking across the street. They pick up speed, hurrying away.
“Yes. His mother was apparently into jazz, so she insisted we fly over here all the way from New Orleans to play.”
“They used to live here back then, in New York?” This is something I should have known by now, but I’m new at this whole wife thing.
