Kiss My Cupcake(40)

The weird phrasing doesn’t seem to faze Buster. “Well, keep an eye on him in this house.” He winks and strides off.

I’m about to ask her what that means, and why the hell she drives an old SUV when it appears her family has enough money to buy a medium-sized country, but she takes a deep breath and squares her shoulders. “I should mention that my parents are divorced but still friendly with each other.”

“So they’ll both be here?” I’m starting to wonder what I’ve gotten myself into.

“Yes, and they’re both remarried—”

“Care Blaire! You finally made it! Cocktail hour started at noon!” A woman crosses the expansive, marble foyer. Based on her features, she’s most definitely Blaire’s mother. Although Blaire is softer around the edges with Marilyn Monroe curves, and her mother looks more like an aging Twiggy. She’s also wearing a short, tight and sparkly dress more appropriate for a nightclub. “Oh! I didn’t know you were bringing a date! Lawrence, Blaire brought a date!” she calls over her shoulder.

“I’m sorry that you’re trapped here with me now. I promise the booze and food will make it worth it,” Blaire mutters before her mother pulls her into one of those loose, fake hugs and air kisses both of her cheeks.

Her mother grabs her by the shoulders. “You look tired. I think you’re probably working too much. Have you gained weight? I have a great juice detox that will shed some of that baby fat like—” She snaps her fingers beside Blaire’s ear, making her jump.

“Mom, I’m almost thirty. The baby fat is here to stay.”

“It’s all the carbs, honey.”

“I like carbs more than I like food deprivation. Anyway, Mom, this is Ronan.” She motions to me. “Ronan, this is my mother—”

“—Glinda. Like the good witch from The Wizard of Oz.” Her hand shoots out. “Enchanted, I’m sure. And I’m sorry for my terrible manners, but we haven’t seen our Care Blaire since the summer. So much catching up to do! How long have you two been dating?”

“He’s a friend, Mom. We’re not dating.”

“Yet?” she asks, hopefully. “When was the last time you had a boyfriend, darling?”

“Not since Maddy stole the last one,” Blaire replies.

“They were better suited for each other.” Glinda gives her a patronizing look before she turns her attention back to me and looks me over as if I’m an accessory she’s unsure of. “Where did you meet my Care Blaire?”

“I own the bar next door to Buttercream and Booze.”

“Next door to what?” Glinda looks confused.

“My café,” Blaire mumbles.

“Oh!” Glinda claps her bony hands. “So you’re the rival! How fun that you’re here.”

I glance at Blaire, whose lips are pursed. “Thank you for that, Mom.”

“I don’t know if I’d call us rivals. I serve beer and wings, and Blaire serves the most delicious cupcakes in the universe.” I’m not trying to suck up to her mother, but I am sort of sucking up to Blaire. Mostly because I have a feeling that her relationship with her family is complicated. Her mother has basically called her fat and chastised her on her dating habits. In front of me.

I wonder if Blaire invited me so I’d be a distraction of some kind. Or a shield.

“Hmm, she is quite adept with the buttercream and a spatula.” She pinches Blaire’s side. “As is evidenced by all the taste testing we must be doing.”

A man who looks like Hugh Hefner from two decades ago appears in the foyer. He’s wearing a velvet smoking jacket, burgundy silk pants, and black slippers. He’s also holding an unlit cigar. “Blaire! We were wondering when you were going to arrive.”

“Hi, Uncle Lawrence.”

He glides across the room and does the same air-kiss thing as her mother did before he shakes my hand.

“We didn’t realize Blaire was bringing a date.”

“He’s a friend, not a date,” Blaire corrects.

“Well, you’re introducing him to the family so that must mean you’re interested in turning him into your date.” He turns to Glinda. “Doesn’t it, darling?”

“I would agree, but maybe Care Blaire would prefer to keep that little detail to herself in case Skylar gets an idea to steal him away.”

“I guess that means my cousin made it back from San Francisco for dinner tonight.” Blaire smiles tightly.

“You know how she hates missing family events,” Lawrence says.

I can’t tell if they’re joking. Or what’s going on, because Blaire’s mom is now caressing Lawrence’s arm in a way that seems overly friendly for someone who’s either supposed to be her brother or her brother-in-law. This whole thing is hella confusing and eye-opening.

“I thought I heard your voice! How’s my baby girl?” A balding, potbellied man wearing a white linen suit ambles into the room. He looks more like he’s ready for bed than for a Thanksgiving dinner party.

“Hey, Dad!” A huge smile breaks across her face and she opens her arms, wrapping them around his expansive belly.

He kisses her on top of the head and his gaze shifts to me. “You brought a date?”