Not My Romeo (The Game Changers 1)

I hold my breath, waiting for her reply.

If she calls him a hayseed . . .

He fidgets as he shifts from one foot to the next, color rising on his cheeks as she stares at him. His eyes land on me again, and I shake my head at him. Mama has you in her sights, my eyes say. Beware!

She lets out a long exhale. “Well, about those things I read . . . gossip is a terrible thing. Ruins lives. People need better things to do with their time. I appreciate everything you’ve done for Timmy and Laura. I heard you bought back their house she lost when her husband died. I’m sure you didn’t have to do that.”

My eyes flare. He did that? How does she know?

She knows everything . . .

“Stop stalling. Cynthia is scary.” Aunt Clara pokes me in the back. “You better get down there before she runs them off.”

She wouldn’t!

She might . . .

Topher laughs from the front swing, where he’s sat down. Wearing old jeans and a faded Queen shirt, he’s taking it all in. “Ms. Clark and Birdie Walker have driven by the house twice since they pulled in. Lunchtime in Daisy is causing a traffic jam. Guess it’s hard to miss an Escalade, Range Rover, and the red Maserati. Wonder who that belongs to? I’m betting Mohawk.”

“Cars and people driving by are not the issue! There are four football players in my yard, and I don’t know why,” I exclaim.

“I know. It’s awesome.” He grins. “We haven’t had this much excitement here since, well, never. I should go get my diary and jot this down. Good material. Maybe take some pics.” He sighs. “Although you did leave that pie at his place. I should hate him for that.”

“You aren’t moving a muscle. I might need you.” I go down the steps toward Mama but hang back a few paces, wavering as I pretend to bend down to tie my shoe. I’m totally waiting to see how Jack handles Mama, and vice versa.

Why is he here?

Why am I so nervous?

Mama sweeps her eyes over the four men. “Well, why are y’all here?”

It’s as if she reads my mind. Dammit, is it true that you eventually turn into your mother the older you get? No, absolutely not. Please no.

Jack flashes a smile. “To work. Elena mentioned you had a party to get ready for, and she had a lot to do. Said she couldn’t have dinner with me.”

I stand; color blooms on my face. How dare he tell her that? Doesn’t he know that once she knows we are . . . whatever we are . . . then she’s never going to leave him be?

“Well, if there’s no time for dinner, there is always time for lunch on Sunday,” she declares.

Fell right into that one! I glare at Jack.

Giselle and Aunt Clara appear next to me. Like me, they’re in sweats, no makeup, and bad hair. At least I’m not alone as we slowly inch closer.

“We can’t hear well from the porch. What on earth is going on?” Giselle hisses.

“The gods answered our prayers and blessed us with eye candy. Big muscles and handsome faces,” Aunt Clara murmurs, fluffing her hair.

Giselle winces. “Preston isn’t coming. He said he’s working late.”

On a Saturday—when we need all the help we can get? I frown.

“Does he work on the weekends a lot?” I whisper, keeping my eyes on the group in front of me as they talk.

Giselle nods, her expression hesitant. “He is the new guy at the firm.”

“Did you really tell Jack you wouldn’t have dinner with him? You have to eat, Elena.” Aunt Clara giggles. “I went to bed late last night, so don’t think I didn’t see that your car was not in your driveway.”

No privacy. Ever.

I elbow her. “Did I tell you I called Scotty to come clean the oriental rugs? He has one of those cleaning machines. Maybe he can slip over to your house later and clean yours.”

Her eyes widen. “You hussy! You did not!”

I check the time on my phone. “He’ll be here soon. He was thrilled, even offered to do it for free, especially when I told him you’d be here helping us.”

“I’m going to put rat poison in your tea,” she whispers.

I laugh.

Giselle sighs. “Everyone knows y’all are a thing. I don’t know why you won’t just make it official, Aunt Clara.”

She huffs. “I’m ten years older than him! It’s ridiculous. Everyone will think I’m robbing the cradle.” She looks down at her shirt. “Dang it. Now I need to go change clothes before he gets here.”

I grab her arm before she can head off to her house down the road. “You will not. We all look like something Romeo dragged in, and you are not going to show us up.”