Make Me a Match - Page 20

“Thanks.” The car door opens for us to get out.

“Anything for you. Plus we’re meeting with some friends of mine. They know more about Gant than anyone.” What does that mean?

Before I can ask, a beautiful girl with dark hair and blue eyes is hugging me. “I see how you knocked Gant off his feet.” She gives me a giant smile. One dimple pops deep into her left cheek, letting me know without a doubt this is Gant’s sister. “I’m Caro, and I can’t wait for you to tell me what he did that has him stomping around like a bear with a thorn in his paw.” She locks her arm with mine. “Over lunch obviously. Mom is going to die when she sees you. She’s inside already.”

Caro starts pulling me toward the door of the restaurant. I’m not sure if I should freak out or not. I’m going to meet his mom, a woman whose dresses I’ve had a small obsession with since I was a young girl dreaming up a fairytale love story and wedding. One my mom actually helped me plan when I was ten.

As scared as I am about Gant’s mom’s reaction to me, I’m more excited to hear what they have to say about him. I’m in way over my head when it comes to that man, and I’ll take any advantage I can get.

Chapter Fourteen

Gant

The phone keeps ringing even though I’ve intentionally ignored it for the last five minutes. I’m in the middle of beating the shit out of my punching bag, pretending that it’s me hanging from the ceiling. I couldn’t have ended the night in a worse way if I’d tried. Caro has always said I needed to get out more, get my feet wet so to speak, or I’d end up slamming my face in the door. She wasn’t wrong—not that I plan on telling her that any time soon.

At the umpteenth call, I throw off the gloves and snarl into the receiver. “What?”

“You should read my texts, man. You got a whole emergency here, and I’m trying to do you a solid.” Petersburg’s voice is half laughter, half annoyance.

“What are you talking about?”

“Read the messages.” He hangs up.

I swipe the back of my taped hand against my forehead and read the message.

You better get over to Gastronomique. The whole family’s swarming over your girl. It looks dire.

“Shit.”

The whole family? My whole family? Her whole family? I type out these questions but get no response from Petersburg. The three dots don’t even make an appearance. He’s punishing me for missing four calls. I deserve it, but not now. Dammit.

I strip off my sweaty clothes, take the fastest shower known to man, and am on my way in under eight minutes. That has to be some kind of record. What can they do in eight minutes? It takes Caro that long to decide what she wants to eat.

Gastro is fifteen minutes away, but I make it in ten by ignoring the traffic signals. At this point, they’re suggestions rather than mandates. The valet isn’t out fast enough for me, so I just leave the keys in the car and speed into the restaurant. Someone will take care of the car—move it, tow it—I don’t really give a damn.

“Sir, can I—”

I hold up a hand and wave them off. Over in the corner I spot Petersburg hemmed in by his family, and two tables over is my mother, my sister, Paislee, and her grandmother. From the teapots and the three-tiered plate racks, it looks like they ordered afternoon tea. My stomach rumbles at the sight of the food. I can’t remember the last time I ate. I grab a passing waiter. “Give me a bloody steak and a baked potato. Keep the veggies in the kitchen. Deliver it to that table.” I point to the ladies.

“Of course, sir. Anything to drink?”

“Is it too early for bourbon?”

The waiter earnestly shakes his head no.

“Great. Get me a bottle.”

“A whole bottle?”

“Yup.” I point to the ladies again. “That’s my mom, my sister, my soon-to-be fiancée, and her grandmother.”

“Oh. Okay. A whole bottle.” He nods with understanding and takes off.

No one notices me until I get to the table. “There must’ve been some miscommunication, and one of you forgot to give me a call.” I drag a chair away from a nearby table and wedge myself in between Caro and Paislee. Paislee looks confused, and Caro looks like she’s about to burst with joy. I shoot her a scowl and silently promise to visit some kind of revenge on her at a later date. She’s unfazed by my threats and mixes me up a mimosa.

“I was going to call you, but I saw Petersburg spying on us—” She gives my friend a wave. He clears his throat and glances away. “So I figured he would do it but gosh, you’re late.”

Tags: Ella Goode Billionaire Romance
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