I laughed.
Diane actually blushed.
That alone shocked me.
Later that night, I told Ethan about him.
His fork stopped halfway to his mouth.
“Who’s Malcolm?”
“A man your mother met downstairs.”
“When?”
“Tonight.”
“Where does he live?”
I stared at him.
“I didn’t run a background check between appetizers.”
He didn’t laugh.
The next morning, Diane came to breakfast wearing a coral-colored blouse, white pants, gold earrings, and perfume.
Ethan nearly choked on his coffee.
“Where are you going?”
Diane reached for a strawberry.
“Good morning to you too.”
“You’re dressed up.”
“I’m dressed.”
“You normally wear shorts to breakfast.”
She looked at me.
“Ava, has my son always been this irritating?”
“Yes.”
“Mom.”
Diane smiled.
“Malcolm invited me to breakfast on the marina.”
Ethan set down his coffee mug.
“You met him yesterday.”
“Yes, detective.”
“I’m just saying.”
“Then stop saying.”
I hid my smile behind my glass.
