“No denials from the man himself? That’s unexpectedly forthright!” Ms. Elly briefly held her tortoise shell glasses up so she could look first at Connor, then me before she dropped them, and they once again dangled from her neck.
Connor’s smile didn’t waver, but he slipped the backpack off his shoulders. There was something about his conduct that tugged at me.
I wasn’t terrifically versed in social exchanges and despite his polite mask, it felt like he didn’t care about anything the older women were saying or what they thought of him.
He must have been genuinely amused when Ms. Booker asked last month. Does he no longer find the idea funny or is it that he’s heard it before so it didn’t catch him by surprise? But why wouldn’t he find it funny—nothing’s changed between us.
“They’re good together,” Mr. Weston said to his watch. “How lucky we are to have a romance unfolding in our apartment building for everyone to watch. Now, we must leave for our bridge club!”
“No, I’m sure they came down here for a reason,” Mrs. Weston said. “Did you need something, dears?”
“Yes, I was going to ask if you’d like some Party Mix.” I unzipped the backpack Connor offered me and pulled out a stuffed bag.
“Party mix—oh! That’s Chex Mix!” Mrs. Weston declared.
Ms. Elly picked up her glasses again so she could peer at the food offering. “Oh my, that actually looks good! Your culinary skills are improving, Jade.”
“Yeah, it came out okay but it’s a little plain because the seasonings didn’t coat the pieces very well.” I put on a smile and held my breath in hope.
“I haven’t had Chex Mix in years!” Mrs. Weston exclaimed.
Mr. Weston, looking very stressed, gave me a strained smile. “It’s very kind of you, Jade. We’ll take two bags and share them with our bridge club for a snack, if you don’t mind. Sound good, Martha?”
Mrs. Weston ignored her husband’s question. “I think I last had Chex Mix in the fall of 1998—at Matilda’s place.”
Ms. Elly dropped her glasses and straightened up. “Matilda Cramer—who lives over on Lake Lane?”
“No, Matilda Dorris—over in Franklin.”
I grinned as I passed two bags of my party mix over to Mr. Weston—who made a pained noise.
“She’s thankful, and excited to start playing cards,” Mr. Weston said. He then stuffed the bags of Party Mix into Mrs. Weston’s handbag, took her hand, and towed her down the hallway.
“You are such a kindhearted dear,” Ms. Elly told me as she side shuffled down the hallway after them. “Maybe next time we can have a good chat. We hope to see you soon—and your friend!” Ms. Elly gave me an expressive eyebrow wriggle before she hurried after her friends, and the trio disappeared down the hallway.
I’d be lying if I didn’t say their exit disappointed me. Oh, I didn’t feel rejected—they were too kind for that, and they’d taken my offering. It was just… discouraging. It felt like no matter how I reached out to the other building residents, they were too busy. Friendly, but their lives were too full to reciprocate.
“I admire their dedication to forms of entertainment,” Connor said.
Well, not all of them.
I fixed my posture before I stuffed the Party Mix back in the backpack. “They take card games very seriously.”
“As they should. When you find a form of entertainment, it’s best to guard it jealously.” Connor chuckled lowly as he put the backpack on again. “So, who next? What other potential targets and/or victims do you have in mind?”
“Since I was focusing on a senior audience, I’m all out,” I said. “I don’t know anyone else in the building who might like the Party Mix.” I tucked one of my red curls behind my ear. “Maybe I should try taking it to work?”
“Leave it in some place werewolves frequent,” Connor advised. “Werewolves will eat anything.”
That was a legitimately good tip, but I felt too loyal to Brody to just let the comment go. “It’s because they burn a lot of calories.”
Connor shoved his hands in the pockets of his pants and strolled towards the nearest staircase. “It’s because they have the same obsession with food as a human’s domesticated canine pet.”
“They’re not that bad,” I protested as I followed behind him.
Connor snorted. “You will not fool me, Jade O’Neil. You work at the Cloisters; you’ve seen enough to know better.”