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The Long Game (Long Game, #1)(97)

Author:Elena Armas

I didn’t understand how such a warm and happy child could find anything remotely motherly about me, but I did care for the kid. I cared about María. And hearing that made me feel immensely honored. “How long ago did she pass?”

“When María was about six,” Josie explained with a sad tilt to her lips. “The Vasquezes got here when Tony was little, bought a dying farmhouse and brought her back to life. They’ve done more for the community in a few years than most have in generations. And Robbie still offers to host every single activity or party in town. Most of them without any compensation in return. The landmark where we are right now, for example, belongs to the farm.”

“It must be a lot of work for Robbie. Taking care of his family and the farm and everything else on his own can’t be easy.”

“It’s not easy, that’s for sure,” Josie agreed, finishing up one of the drinks with whipped cream. “The farm struggled financially for a fair amount of time after losing María’s mom.” She lowered her voice. “And Robbie doesn’t like to talk about it, but he was—and maybe still is—in a lot of debt.” She sighed. “Luckily for all of us there’s some kind of guardian angel looking over Green Oak. I like to think of her as a modern fairy godmother. And yes, it’s a she, and she has Oprah’s face.” She grabbed a marker and began to write on a cup. “Nobody knows who it is, but when a local business struggles…” She waved the pen as if it was a wand. “Bibbidi-bobbidi-boo!”

I chuckled, caught off guard by the theatrics. “So, like, an angel investor?”

“Yes,” she agreed. “But we choose to believe in the magic and not the fancy names.” A shrug. “Anyways. The Vasquezes’ farm is marching at full steam now. We just need a new happily ever after for Robbie. But I’m working on it. I’m an excellent matchmaker.”

I looked over my shoulder, finding María in the crowd as she talked about something that required both her hands.

“She’ll be fine,” Josie said. “Both she and Tony. I was also raised by a single parent, and look at how well I turned out.”

“You were?” I asked.

“Yes, ma’am. Never even met my dad.” She placed a second cup in front of me. “I just know he chose not to be involved, and the money he sent every month was put into a savings account under my name by my mom.”

A dozen questions rose to the tip of my tongue, but Josie sidetracked me with a laugh.

I frowned. “What?”

She pushed the two very elaborate and colorful drinks in my direction. “Girl, you better move and go rescue that very antsy-looking man before he murders someone. Namely, the president of the PTA.”

I glanced back, finding a very tight-faced Cameron talking to Diane. Or rather, being talked at by Diane, if the supersonic speed at which her mouth was moving was anything to go by. Cameron’s face scrunched up. I knew that look.

“Oh God,” I mumbled, swiveling back to Josie. “I better go. How much do I owe you?”

“You can pay for these tomorrow, I have a serious favor to ask,” Josie said, still looking behind me. Her brows rose on her forehead. “Oh. Oh. I think… Diane might be hitting on Cameron?”

I snatched the drinks up and turned around, walking away as fast as I could, and ignoring the laughter rolling out from Josie’s booth. I knew why she laughed. She thought I was jealous. I wasn’t. Cameron and I were… a team, of sorts, I guessed. We were partners. Coworkers. I owed him. Yes, that was what was making me speed up. Not Diane’s flirting with him.

It took Cameron’s eyes a few seconds to find me in the short distance. He widened them. Hurry up, he seemed to silently beg.

Diane seemed totally oblivious to his visible discomfort. And as I neared them, all that urgency faded and gave way to… amusement.

I rolled my eyes at him. Grow up, I sent him through the invisible line we were communicating through.

Understanding crossed his face. Then a corner of his lips tilted up, Make me.

Smug, competitive man, I thought. And he seemed to catch that, too, because he smiled at me. And I blushed.

When I reached them, I was so distracted, I could hardly take in Diane’s words. Something about her divorce or a hose that needed checking at her house.

“There’s an emergency,” I announced. Diane’s voice came a stop. “And I need Cameron.” Cameron’s smile widened. “Most urgently.” Most urgently? God, Adalyn.

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