Chapter 10 Perfect First Date
Perfect First Date
Hazel
Most people who met Nana Beatrice and lived to tell the tale knew she was a woman to be reckoned with. ‘A shark wearing the face of an old woman’, one of her ex-husbands had called her. He hadn’t been entirely wrong.
But Nana wasn’t without her kindness. It was just that most of it went to her dogs.
Every year, the Rescue Paws Gala was held at Nana’s cottage.
Well, she liked to call it a cottage, but, in reality, it was a massive Victorian estate that she’d inherited from my long-dead grandfather.
The event drew crowds not just from Oakhaven, but from all over the country.
And even when I tried to avoid it, Nana somehow managed to persuade me to come.
This year, I stood in front of her gate, wearing a dress that felt like armor.
This morning, I’d panicked. While I was staring at the dress hanging on my closet door, my confidence crumbled. The dress was beautiful. Bold. Everything Vixen promised it would be when she’d helped me pick it out.
It was also terrifying.
So I’d done the unthinkable and called Vixen.
My unexpected new friend had shown up thirty minutes later with a professional makeup kit. She’d seated me at my vanity and gone to work with the precision of a surgeon.
“We’re not hiding anything.” She tilted my chin up to catch the light. “We’re just pointing out what’s already there. Those gorgeous green eyes. Those cheekbones. That sinful mouth you hide behind polite smiles.”
The makeup had been subtle. Discreet. A touch of bronze on my eyelids. A hint of blush along my cheekbones. Mascara that made my lashes look like they went on for miles. And a deep berry lip stain that Vixen insisted was ‘non-negotiable’. By the time I was ready, I had my confidence back.
Now she stood beside me at the gate, holding an enormous box of cookies like it weighed nothing at all.
“Are you sure you’re okay carrying all that?” I glanced at her, watching the way she balanced the box against one hip with impossible ease. “Isn’t it too heavy?”
Vixen shot me an amused but kind look, her painted lips twisting into a fond smile. “I assure you, darling, I’m fine. You did all the hard part when you made this deliciousness for the puppies. Let me help out at least now.”
She’d already helped plenty. More than I could ever say. I made a mental note to pay her back in some way. Once I figured out how. For the moment, I had to keep us both safe from Nana. And from the gala.
Today, the front lawn of the cottage had been transformed into an elegant chaos of rescue dogs and their admirers.
White tents dotted the manicured grass, each one hosting a different activity.
A photo station where guests could pose with adoptable puppies.
A catering table that stretched for what looked like a mile.
And dogs. Dogs everywhere.
A pit bull mix with one eye sat regally on a velvet cushion, accepting treats from a line of admirers like a queen holding court. Two elderly dachshunds in matching sweater vests waddled by in perfect synchronization.
A three-legged beagle limped past me, his tail wagging so hard his entire back end wiggled. His fourth leg ended in a stump wrapped in a cheerful purple bandage. I crouched down next to him and smiled. “Oh, look at you. Aren’t you the bravest boy?”
The beagle yipped and approached me, then immediately licked my hand with enthusiastic approval. I pulled a small dog treat from my clutch and offered it to him. He snatched it out of my palm and settled at my feet as if we were old friends.
“You have such a good heart,” Vixen commented, watching me with an expression I couldn’t quite read. “Whoever actually wins it will be a lucky man.”
Brok clearly didn’t feel that way, but I refused to think about that today. “I certainly hope—”
“Hazel!” Nana’s voice cut me off before I could finish my sentence. “There you are. I was beginning to think you wouldn’t make it.”
I turned to find Nana bearing down on us. Dressed in a cream-colored suit and with her silver hair styled into an elegant twist, she looked like she’d stepped out of a 1950s photograph. “That’s an interesting choice of dress.”
The censure in her words was not enough to shame me in public, but it was certainly loud and clear to me. My confidence, so carefully constructed this morning, began to wobble. But I wasn’t alone.
“That’s what I said!” Vixen stepped in smoothly. “It’s so interesting, and it suits her so well. None of that pastel, weak nonsense. I said, Hazel, my darling, you deserve to stand out. To show these men what they’re missing out on.”
I wanted to hug her. I also wanted to hide her from Nana’s unavoidable rebuttal.
“Not that any random guy is ever good enough for Hazel.” Vixen gave Nana a conspiratorial smile. “But that doesn’t stop us from showing off a bit.”
Nana’s expression shifted. For a moment, calculation flashed across her face, the kind of look she got when she’d found a promising investment opportunity. She studied Vixen with renewed interest.
Oh, no. Nana liked her. That was either very good or very bad.
“Perhaps you’re not entirely wrong,” she said, with approval lurking in her eyes. “I’m Beatrice Roth. And you are?”
“Vixen. It’s a pleasure, Mrs. Roth.”
Just Vixen. Because people like Vixen didn’t have last names. They didn’t need them.
“The pleasure is all mine,” Nana replied, and she actually sounded like she meant it. “Now, I’d love to continue this conversation, but I’m afraid we have a different matter to attend to.” Much to my horror, she turned toward me. “Come, Hazel. I’ll take you to meet Ignatius.”
My stomach dropped. The blind date. The whole reason I was wearing this dress in the first place.
“But, Nana, the cookies—”
“Don’t worry, darling.” Vixen patted the box she was carrying, as if reassuring both the cookies and me. “I have everything. I’ll get it all set up for you.”
She flashed me a thumbs-up and a wink that somehow managed to be both encouraging and slightly mischievous. Then she was gliding away with the cookie box, moving through the crowd like she owned the place.
Nana’s hand closed around my elbow with surprising strength for a woman her age. “Come along. Ignatius is very punctual, and I won’t have him thinking I raised a granddaughter who doesn’t respect other people’s time.”
As she steered me through the crowd, I tried to summon the optimism that Vixen and Nana seemed to radiate. Ignatius would be nice. The cookies would be a hit. The dogs were adorable. Everything was fine.
But a traitorous part of my heart just wished I was back at The Cocoa Bean. Back to seeing Brok refuse a second cookie while Barnaby vibrated on a stool, demanding more.
As always, Nana navigated the crowd with ease and managed to safely extract us from the chaos. She delivered us to a small gazebo, slightly separated from the rest of the gala. There, a handsome man in an elegant suit was already waiting. But… He wasn’t exactly twiddling his thumbs.
Instead, Ignatius Gray stood at the center of what could only be described as a canine fan club.
A golden retriever pressed against his left leg, gazing up at him with devoted eyes. A scruffy mixed breed had claimed his right foot. And a determined terrier puppy was attempting to scale his slacks like they were Mount Everest.
No wonder Nana liked him if the dogs worshipped him to this extent.
As Nana and I approached, he turned toward us and met my gaze. His eyes were… gold? I didn’t think I’d seen that shade of brown anywhere in a person before. “Ms. Roth, you made it,” he said with a bow. “I’m honored to finally meet you. I’ve heard so much about you from Mrs. Roth.”
Unexpectedly, Nana barreled over his formality. “Now, don’t embarrass me in front of my own granddaughter, Ignatius, dear. I told you you can call me Nana.”
Ignatius laughed, flashing a charming, warm smile that made the puppy increase its efforts. “I would never dare. I know better.”
As Ignatius finished his sentence, the terrier puppy finally landed in his arms. Ignatius cradled it without missing a beat, as if small animals pouncing on him were a normal part of conversation.
I had to admit I was a little impressed. “You seem very good with the dogs, Mr. Gray. Is that how you met Nana? Through the gala?”
“Not quite,” Ignatius replied. The mixed breed at his feet rolled onto its back, exposing its belly in surrender. “Though I suppose the way we crossed paths was just as eventful.”
“We met during my second divorce,” Nana explained with a tiny, satisfied smile. “Ignatius was my lawyer. Ruthless in that courtroom.”
Oh, dear. Well, that explained a lot. Nana’s second divorce had been legendary. She’d walked away with the beach house, the yacht, and half of her ex-husband’s investment portfolio. The man who’d managed that had to be a shark. There was more to Ignatius than just a simple dog lover.
“It was my pleasure to work with you, Mrs. Roth,” he offered. “Just like it’s my pleasure to meet your wonderful granddaughter.”
It didn’t sound like a polite platitude.
He genuinely seemed to mean it. Nana’s smile softened.
“Ignatius’s cases often lead him to work abroad, which is why we don’t see nearly enough of him.
But we’re so fortunate, Hazel. A recent case brought him to Oakhaven, and I just knew I had to take advantage of the opportunity. ”
Right. Because nothing said ‘fortunate’ like being set up with your grandmother’s divorce lawyer at a charity gala.
“And besides, animals just know, Hazel.” Nana gestured to the pack that had claimed Ignatius as their personal property. “They sense the quality of a human soul.”
By now, the tiny terrier had successfully untied Ignatius’s tie. I bit the inside of my cheek to keep from laughing. If dogs sensed the quality of souls, this one apparently thought his tasted delicious and that he deserved to be thoroughly chewed.