Charlotte stared at her and then laughed.
Jane pointed at her. “Stop that.”
“No promises.” Charlotte loaded up two plates and handed Jane one. “You know what I love? How you go kicking and screaming into anything good in your life, like you’re afraid it’s going to turn out to be a bad thing. So hey, if you have to tell yourself this is pretend, whatever, I’m all for it.”
“I’m not telling myself it’s pretend, it IS pretend. It’s just so that it seems believable and all that.”
“Uh-huh.”
Jane rolled her eyes as she dug in. “Oh my God, this is delicious. Oh, and I bought your birthday present, so don’t go snooping.”
Charlotte was turning forty next week and would really rather not. “I told you not to get me anything.”
“I didn’t listen.”
She sighed like she was put out, but in fact, presents were both rare and a secret thrill. “Okay, so let’s see this present.”
“No way.” Jane was looking smug, which meant she was comfortable enough to be looking smug, and that was actually the gift, whether Jane knew it or not. “You don’t get it until your birthday next week.”
“Spoilsport.” Charlotte watched Jane push around the food with her fork. “What else?”
“How do you know there’s anything else?”
Charlotte just looked at her.
Jane sighed. “I went and visited my grandpa again yesterday.”
“A visit implies you had a conversation. Did you two have a conversation?”
“Okay, correction,” Jane said. “I spied on his weekly lunch with some of his old work buddies.”
Charlotte studied Jane’s face. “So far this season, you’ve stalked his weekly breakfasts with friends and now his weekly lunch with his old work buddies.”
“Yep.”
Charlotte looked at her.
Jane sighed. “Yeah, yeah, I’m ridiculous.”
Charlotte’s heart clenched tight at the unsure look on Jane’s face. “Only if you hide under a table again.”
Jane smiled. “You want to talk about hiding under tables?”
Okay, so that hadn’t exactly been one of her finer moments. “Extenuating circumstances.”
“Uh-huh. And no, I didn’t hide under the table.” Jane paused. “I stayed outside and watched through the window.”
Charlotte laughed. “We’ve made progress.”
“We? The only way we made progress is if you ran into Mateo today, didn’t hide under a table, and agreed to go out with him.”
Ignoring this and the flutter low in her belly, Charlotte went chin up. “How does he look?”
“Sexy as hell,” Jane said. “Dr. Hottie Patottie’s got that whole laid-back, easygoing charm down, and matched with that leanly muscled runner’s build and the fact that he’s brilliant—”
“I meant your grandpa!” Charlotte said. She didn’t need to know how Mateo looked, he was imprinted on her brain. And Jane was right, he was sexy as hell.
Jane grinned, then thought about it as she took a few bites of food. And her smile slowly faded. “He’s a little pale, a little tired. Clearly still recovering from his heart attack. His last EKG showed minor damage, but sufficient blood and oxygen supply to the heart.”
Charlotte’s heart skipped. “Tell me you didn’t break any HIPAA laws, putting your job, not to mention your license, in jeopardy to get that information.”