Chapter 95: Double Kisses

Diana’s hands stopped over the table. There was the tiniest hesitation. Naomi immediately knew she wasn’t going to like whatever came next. "Callum Sterling is having dinner with us."

"Aunt Diana? Did you set me up?"

"I’m sorry."

"You invited me here knowing he was coming?"

"Just stay, please."

Naomi let out a long breath. This was why Richard had greeted her like she was his favorite person in the world. She should have known.

Richard Whitmore did not randomly discover warmth. It meant something was about to go his way.

Naomi was already considering collecting her bag and leaving when voices drifted in from the hallway. She would recognize Callum’s smooth, slightly condescending tone anywhere.

Callum appeared in the dining room beside Richard. His gaze moved across the room. It found her immediately.

And, naturally, he smiled.

"Naomi..."

"Callum."

He walked toward her. She watched him approach and silently prayed.

God, please don’t let him do it. Please don’t let him do the European kiss thing.

Again, no such luck. He reached her, took her lightly into his arms and placed a kiss against one cheek.

Then the other. She endured it. Before she could congratulate herself on surviving, Callum took her fingers, lifted them to his mouth and kissed them too.

He added another one?! The greeting had received an upgrade?

Fantastic.

Her internal thoughts, thankfully, remained internal. On the outside, she produced what she hoped passed for a pleasant smile instead of the expression her soul wanted to make. "I didn’t know you would be here,"

"It was meant to be a surprise."

Congratulations. It worked.

"I can’t seem to get a hold of you," Callum continued. "You barely respond to my messages, and you don’t ever call me back."

Naomi resisted the urge to point out that there might be a reason for that. "It’s just work..."

"I understand." Callum looked toward the beautifully set dining table. "Shall we?"

Richard was already moving toward his place as though this were an entirely normal family dinner and Naomi hadn’t just been ambushed into attending it.

Callum pulled out a chair for her. She shot a panicked look toward Diana. Her aunt met her gaze with the same pleading expression she’d been wearing since Naomi discovered the setup.

Please.

Naomi exhaled.

Fine.

She could survive one dinner. "Thank you." She sat.

Callum took the chair beside her. Dinner began with an awkward quiet that somehow made every tiny sound louder. The scrape of cutlery against plates. The clink of glasses.

Naomi hated it. She would rather sit through one of Dorian’s terrifying family group chats than endure another five minutes of everybody pretending. She cut into her steak and looked toward Diana. "This is delicious, Aunt Diana."

"Thank you, dear."

"I hear you’re a magician in the kitchen," Callum said.

"Well, I do my best." She gave him a polite smile and returned her attention to the food.

"And I also heard you’ll be catering the Heathcliffe wedding."

Naomi’s fork paused. Her eyes shot up to his. That information wasn’t exactly classified, but she certainly hadn’t told Callum. "How did you know?"

Callum’s smile came easily. "We roll in the same circle." He picked up his glass of wine and took a measured sip before setting it back down. His expression suggested the wine had disappointed him.

Naomi watched him carefully now. There had been enough strange things surrounding this dinner already. Richard’s suspiciously cheerful welcome. The kids being banished upstairs. Callum conveniently appearing at exactly the same time she had been invited over.

Now he knew about Ginny’s wedding too. He rested one hand beside his plate. "Let’s just say, my family is a friend of their family."

Naomi’s brows lifted.

Really?

Dorian had never told her that. Surely that qualified as useful information. It could have been one very simple conversation.

Oh, Naomi, turns out your former fiancé is a friend of my family.

Done.

Naomi thought back to the first time Dorian and Callum had met. They certainly hadn’t acted like family friends.

Actually, they had looked like two men who, if guns were allowed inside restaurants and dueling hadn’t gone out of fashion, would have happily stood back-to-back and started counting paces.

There had been absolutely nothing friendly about that meeting. Maybe rich families had a completely different definition of friendship.

She wouldn’t be surprised. She looked down at her plate and suddenly wished she were anywhere but here.

Home sounded particularly good. Even if home currently contained Dorian, Daniel and several loud men who seemed incapable of speaking at a normal volume while playing video games.

Before leaving, she had made them chicken wings and fries, and the entire entertainment floor had already sounded like a sports bar.

Still, their group was more fun. They were loud, yes. She liked loud. Loud meant people were talking.

Laughing.

Teasing each other. Nobody sat around pretending.

"I was invited, you know," Callum continued.

Naomi looked at him. "Invited where?"

"The wedding."

"Oh."

"Actually, my father was invited, but I’ll be going in his stead." His hand landed on her thigh beneath the table.

Seriously?

She looked down instinctively, though the tablecloth hid everything from everyone else. "I won’t necessarily be participating in the event since I’ll be among the service staff."

Callum turned toward her. "Really? Heathcliffe would allow that?"

Naomi’s brows drew together. She reached beneath the table and caught Callum’s hand, trying to pry it away from her thigh without turning dinner into a public wrestling match. Her eyes flicked toward him.

Callum smiled pleasantly. She smiled right back. The message in her eyes was significantly less pleasant.

Move your damn hand.

"As you know, I am catering the wedding," she said calmly, keeping her voice low. "I have to oversee the setup and service. I intend for this to be my big break." She wanted people asking who had catered the wedding. She wanted referrals.

Enough work under her own name that the bakery could finally become optional instead of necessary.

And she certainly wasn’t going to spend the most important catering job of her career sitting at a table pretending she was simply Mrs Heathcliffe.

"I’d like to be hands on."