opinions.
He’d also gained the loyalty of everyone at the restaurant, from the busboys to the very temperamental chefs. Agatha would use those connections to lure Noah to her way of thinking.
She needed Grace here to help her. Grace not only kept her life organized, she was always a rock, and she had a calming effect that helped keep disasters at bay. If Grace hadn’t been out of town during the confrontation, Agatha likely wouldn’t have lost her temper and disowned Noah. Now she had to figure out how to get him back, get the wedding back on track and save face in the bargain.
Unfortunately, Grace had gone missing after their heated discussion. For some reason, Grace had taken grave offense at the supposed slights dealt to Agatha’s hardheaded grandson.
Hillary and Jorge, Kara’s parents, sat in stony silence, waiting for Agatha to come up with a solution to the problem of the canceled wedding. She loved them both and counted them as two of her closest friends, but they could be such nitwits sometimes. What did they expect her to do? Ground Noah in his room? Sometimes he reminded her of a wild animal turned into a house pet. Noah might often appear domesticated, but Agatha had to remember that most of it was a facade. Deep inside, Noah was still a creature of independence, determined to survive.
He had a stubborn predilection for doing what he considered best. Because his instincts were acute, oftentimes he was correct.
This time he couldn’t be.
To herself, Agatha muttered, “Damn it, Grace, where are you?”
Jorge cleared his throat. “You’re really worried about her?”
“Of course I’m worried. She’s the most steadfast employee I’ve ever had. If she’s not here, it’s because something has happened to her.” Agatha had already decided a pretense of worry would buy her some time and give her an excuse to contact Noah again.
Hillary, looking impatient, handed her quietly weeping daughter another tissue and turned to Agatha. “You said the two of you argued. Perhaps she’s still annoyed.”
“She would have called and said so.”
Jorge raised his brows. “She tells you when she’s annoyed with you?”
If they only knew, Agatha thought with a secret smile. Grace always spoke her mind, especially when she felt righteous. Agatha said only, “Yes, but always in the most diplomatic terms.”
As if on cue, the library doors burst open and Grace tumbled in looking like a ragged weed caught in the wind. “Agatha! I’m so sorry I’m late.”
Agatha stared at Grace, utterly speechless. Good God, had she spent the night in the gutter? Had she been attacked?
“Late,” Agatha finally said, giving her mind a chance to work, “is a few minutes. Grace, you’re several hours tardy.”
“I know.” Grace shoved thick handfuls of tangled hair from her face. “And as I said, I’m sorry.”
Agatha looked her over. She was aware of Jorge coming to his feet behind her, of Kara and Hillary staring in mute shock. Her voice sharp with concern, Agatha snapped, “What in the world has happened to you?”
“Happened to me?” Grace blushed even as she parroted the question.
Skirting furniture and guests, Agatha approached her. A very real niggling of worry intruded. “Don’t play dumb with me, young lady. It doesn’t suit you at all. Just look at you. You’re a wrinkled, dirty mess.”
Grace brushed at her sweater—which had two buttons in the wrong holes, leaving a peek of her cleavage—and straightened her sagging skirt. Her legs were bare, her shoes water-stained. “My car broke down last night. I got caught in the rain.”
“All night?” Hillary asked with real concern.
“No, actually…” Grace fidgeted. “No.”
Agatha scowled. “No actually no what ?”
Kara stepped up behind Agatha and placed a slim, manicured hand on her shoulder. “I think we should go, Agatha. Maybe Grace would like a little privacy with you to discuss her…dilemma.”
Grace looked at Kara
He’d also gained the loyalty of everyone at the restaurant, from the busboys to the very temperamental chefs. Agatha would use those connections to lure Noah to her way of thinking.
She needed Grace here to help her. Grace not only kept her life organized, she was always a rock, and she had a calming effect that helped keep disasters at bay. If Grace hadn’t been out of town during the confrontation, Agatha likely wouldn’t have lost her temper and disowned Noah. Now she had to figure out how to get him back, get the wedding back on track and save face in the bargain.
Unfortunately, Grace had gone missing after their heated discussion. For some reason, Grace had taken grave offense at the supposed slights dealt to Agatha’s hardheaded grandson.
Hillary and Jorge, Kara’s parents, sat in stony silence, waiting for Agatha to come up with a solution to the problem of the canceled wedding. She loved them both and counted them as two of her closest friends, but they could be such nitwits sometimes. What did they expect her to do? Ground Noah in his room? Sometimes he reminded her of a wild animal turned into a house pet. Noah might often appear domesticated, but Agatha had to remember that most of it was a facade. Deep inside, Noah was still a creature of independence, determined to survive.
He had a stubborn predilection for doing what he considered best. Because his instincts were acute, oftentimes he was correct.
This time he couldn’t be.
To herself, Agatha muttered, “Damn it, Grace, where are you?”
Jorge cleared his throat. “You’re really worried about her?”
“Of course I’m worried. She’s the most steadfast employee I’ve ever had. If she’s not here, it’s because something has happened to her.” Agatha had already decided a pretense of worry would buy her some time and give her an excuse to contact Noah again.
Hillary, looking impatient, handed her quietly weeping daughter another tissue and turned to Agatha. “You said the two of you argued. Perhaps she’s still annoyed.”
“She would have called and said so.”
Jorge raised his brows. “She tells you when she’s annoyed with you?”
If they only knew, Agatha thought with a secret smile. Grace always spoke her mind, especially when she felt righteous. Agatha said only, “Yes, but always in the most diplomatic terms.”
As if on cue, the library doors burst open and Grace tumbled in looking like a ragged weed caught in the wind. “Agatha! I’m so sorry I’m late.”
Agatha stared at Grace, utterly speechless. Good God, had she spent the night in the gutter? Had she been attacked?
“Late,” Agatha finally said, giving her mind a chance to work, “is a few minutes. Grace, you’re several hours tardy.”
“I know.” Grace shoved thick handfuls of tangled hair from her face. “And as I said, I’m sorry.”
Agatha looked her over. She was aware of Jorge coming to his feet behind her, of Kara and Hillary staring in mute shock. Her voice sharp with concern, Agatha snapped, “What in the world has happened to you?”
“Happened to me?” Grace blushed even as she parroted the question.
Skirting furniture and guests, Agatha approached her. A very real niggling of worry intruded. “Don’t play dumb with me, young lady. It doesn’t suit you at all. Just look at you. You’re a wrinkled, dirty mess.”
Grace brushed at her sweater—which had two buttons in the wrong holes, leaving a peek of her cleavage—and straightened her sagging skirt. Her legs were bare, her shoes water-stained. “My car broke down last night. I got caught in the rain.”
“All night?” Hillary asked with real concern.
“No, actually…” Grace fidgeted. “No.”
Agatha scowled. “No actually no what ?”
Kara stepped up behind Agatha and placed a slim, manicured hand on her shoulder. “I think we should go, Agatha. Maybe Grace would like a little privacy with you to discuss her…dilemma.”
Grace looked at Kara
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