Hot Sauce (Suncoast Society #26)(28)

“Thank you. On Facebook, some of his friends are organizing a…well, I guess a vanilla service. For a week from tomorrow.”

“Perfect,” Tilly said. “Then, Kel, how about a week from this Sunday? Two in the afternoon?”

“I’ve got a charter I can’t cancel,” Reed said, looking glum.

“No worries,” Tilly said. “How about seven in the evening?”

Reed looked grateful and relieved. “I can make that, no problem. Thank you.”

“Done,” Kel said. “I’ll go add it to the schedule. Next Sunday, seven in the evening.” He turned and headed for the office.

“Thank you,” Vanessa said. “I’ll pay whatever—”

“Stop,” Tilly said. “No charge. Everyone will bring food, and the club donates the space and the soft drinks and coffee.” She sighed. “Unfortunately, it’s not our first memorial service, and I’m sure it won’t be our last.” She glanced at Reed. “And Sunday evening probably works better for most folks, anyway, who will be sleeping in late from spending Saturday night here.”





It was around ten o’clock when Lyle found out Vanessa hadn’t had anything for dinner. Before Tilly could even jump on her about it, he was up and moving.

“I’m on it,” he said, not missing the knowing smile on Tilly’s face as he headed over toward the buffet tables. There wasn’t a huge selection left this late in the evening, but he was able to cobble together some meatballs, fresh veggies and ranch dip, and a couple other little side dishes still available to fill a plate to bring back to her.

He set it in front of Vanessa, and before she could respond, he said, “Now, m’lady, what would you like to drink?”

She blushed, and he thought he might have tripped and fallen head-first in love with her.

“Water or unsweetened iced tea, please.”

“Coming right up.” He bustled back to the food area, fixed her a cup of iced tea, and also set it in front of her.

“Thank you,” she said.

Tilly slid out of her seat and grabbed him by the shoulders, steering him down and into her chair. “You can have my seat,” she said, giving him a wink as she patted him on the shoulder. “I’m going to go talk with Kel about doling out chores for the service. Make sure she eats at least half of what’s on that plate.”

Oh, shit.

He stared across the table at Reed, who was staring back at him, his gaze slightly widened.

He suspected his own shock was mirrored on his partner’s face.

They’d been around long enough in the local community to know what that little exchange had meant.

Matchmaker Tilly had just set her sights on a new target.

Them.

Up until Leigh had her baby, Tilly’s time had been greatly divided between LA and Sarasota. Tilly was Leigh’s personal assistant, an integral part of the smoothly running clockwork of Leigh, Lucas, and Nick’s production company. Now that Leigh was only a few months post-delivery, they were running their business from their Florida office, meaning Tilly was now home more and free to attend events.

And free to focus her matchmaking skills on her victims.

Eh, friends.

Thank god Eliza’s not here.

He’d no sooner thought that than the office door opened.

Oh, f*ck.

In bustled Eliza, who barely took a second to glance around the club before homing in on Vanessa and swooping in to give her a teary hug.

“I’m sorry we couldn’t get here sooner. I didn’t see Jenny’s text until late this morning, and the barbarian had a work thing we couldn’t ditch earlier tonight.”

When Lyle started to get up, Jenny leaned forward, caught him with glare cast with an arched eyebrow, and softly cleared her throat.

Message received. He eased himself back down into his chair and Jenny nodded, smiling.

Dammit.

Apparently all the women in their social group, regardless of what side of the D/s slash they played on, were cued into this quirky little code of fostering possibly budding romance.

He looked to Reed for guidance.

Reed shrugged and nodded toward her plate, which was going ignored with Eliza hugging Vanessa and whispering in her ear.

Lyle got the message loud and clear.

If she hasn’t eaten by the time Tilly returns, my ass is grass and Tilly’s Goatzilla.





Reed wouldn’t deny watching his partner’s discomfort tweaked the sadistic side of him more than just a little.

It turned his crank, is what it did.

Also, the fact that Tilly was basically signing off on them, practically pushing them together, bolstered his spirits and made him feel less assholish for his earlier thoughts.

And only an idiot or a complete stranger to Tilly’s ways could have missed what she’d just done there. That Jenny had reinforced it to Lyle when he’d tried to stand and give his seat to Eliza only confirmed it.

Then, Jenny took a second to join the women’s hug, hugging them both, but he didn’t miss—although Vanessa no doubt did—how Jenny whispered what could have only been a couple of words into Eliza’s ear.

Eliza looked across the table, nailing him with her gaze.

Fuck.

If there was an Olympic sport for matchmaking, Tilly and Eliza would lead the US team to certain gold without a doubt, leaving the mangled bodies of the other countries’ teams in their wake. So he didn’t bother to question it when, five minutes later, he somehow had managed to be maneuvered by the other women to take Jenny’s place at the table, on Vanessa’s other side, while Vanessa went back to picking at her plate of food.