Page 7 of The Love Playbook

“You heard me, but while we’re on the subject, let me fill you in. There’s this thing called manners, and when you meet someone for the first time, especially someone who is important to someone you love, you’re supposed to smile and shake their hand, sayhelloornice to meet you. Things like that.”

She snorts, and I’m not sure which part of what I said she has a problem with. Maybe all of it.

“Now, let’s go back out there and act like adults. Be nice. Put on a happy face,” I say, turning the corners of her mouth up with my fingers until she resembles the Joker.

I stifle a laugh and release her, watching as her mouth quickly morphs back into a scowl. “No arguing with me. No rude comments or smart retorts, and act like you don’t hate the universe and everything in it for just one night.”

“I amnotrude,” she protests, and I arch a brow. “At least not all the time. Only when people deserve it.” She points at me. “AndI do not hate the universe. Just mostly you.” She cocks her head as if considering. “Okay, and maybe the majority of the male population.”

I guffaw. “Prove it.”

“Oh, I’ll prove it, alright,” she says, eyes narrowing. “I’ll be as sweet as sugar and as sticky as honey. I’ll be so sweet; in fact, I’ll give you a freaking toothache!”

I barely restrain my eye roll. “I’m serious. My mother cares a lot about your father, which means she cares a lot about you, so don’t blow this for her or I’ll fucking haunt your dreams, Lettie, I swear.”

“That’s frightening,” she grumbles. “You in my dreams?” She shudders, then asks, “Are we really doing this? Like, seriously?” I ignore her pained tone, shooting her a warning look in answer, and she sighs. “Fine.”

Taking the lead, she stalks back into the kitchen where Garry and my mother are standing, hands linked.

At the sound of our approach, they glance over at us, a question in their eyes.

Garry is the first to speak. “So, I take it you two know each other?”

“Sure do,” I say, reaching down and mussing the top of Charlotte’s head.

She swats at my hand, then forces a smile that borders on manic. “He’s my best friend’s boyfriend’s roommate,” Charlotte explains.

“Oh, how fun!” my mother exclaims. “Jace is such a nice boy. I’ve only met him once, but he’s a real charmer.”

“Yeah. I thought maybe some of that charm would rub off on Chris by now, but . . .” She glances up at me, smirking. “Hasn’t happened yet.” Tearing her gaze away, she steps forward, hand outstretched. “I’m Charlotte, by the way. And you’re Barbie?”

My mother smiles, taking her hand. “Please, Barb is fine.”

“Right.” Charlotte nods, then rocks back on her heels, glancing up at her father. “So, you and Chris have met before?” She motions between us.

“Yeah. Barb and I stopped by for a visit last month and took Chris to lunch. I tried to call you, but you didn’t answer,” he says.

Charlotte crosses her arms over her chest while she peers up at me. “Funny. I don’t think you mentioned it.”

“That’s probably because I didn’t make the connection since he never mentioned you by name, and your surnames are different.”

Garry clears his throat, explaining, “After the divorce, Charlotte took her mother’s maiden name.”

Charlotte’s cheeks pinken, which lets me know there’s a story there, and she glances around the kitchen like she’s looking for the closest escape route. “Great. So . . .”

Silence settles between us.

Garry shoves his hands into the pockets of his pants, shooting nervous glances toward his daughter while my mom fidgets with the stem of her wine glass.

It’s awkward as fuck.

My stomach growls, loud enough for everyone to hear.

Garry and my mom laugh while Charlotte rolls her eyes.

Deciding to move this birthday dinner along, I rub a hand over my stomach and say, “I think that means it’s time to eat.”

Chapter 3