“They are,” Lula says with her mouth full.
She can’t seem to eat her muffin fast enough, and that relaxes me even more. I can get along with anyone who likes my food.
“My cousin doesn’t pay attention. He doesn’t date. He barely notices women.” She stabs the air with a manicured finger. “I take that back. There was someone he mentioned. Someone he met at a coffee shop.”
“Oh?” I try to keep my voice casual, but the blood is roaring in my ears.
“Yeah. A girl who helped him last year’s Valentine's Day. Her boyfriend had just broken up with her but she saw Royal was bleeding and bandaged his hands.” Lula tilts her head. “Was that you?”
I lick my lips. Dumped before Valentine’s Day? Sounds like me. But wouldn’t I remember helping someone like Royal? “I don't know. I don't remember.”
“Hmm.” Lula pouts at her empty plate and picks at the remaining crumbs. “Must have been some other panetteria. Anyway,” she dusts off her hands, seemingly unaware of the bomb she’s dropped on my head, “I’m glad he found you.”
“I don't know what's going on,” I blurt. “I just met him a few days ago and now… he says he’s going to marry me?”
“I'd believe him.” Lula’s poking around the kitchen. She opens a tin and fishes out one of the cookies I baked last night. “He's already booked the church.”
I crumple a dish towel in my hands. “I'm waiting for him to tell me this is all a misunderstanding.”
Lula takes a bite of the cookie. Her lashes flutter rapidly. “Wow, that's good,” she mutters. She points the remaining cookie at me. “I wouldn't hold my breath if I were you. Once Royal gets an idea into his head, he doesn't tend to let it go. He's always been like that, ever since he was a child. Drove his father crazy,” she adds in a mutter.
“Did you grow up with him?”
“No, we were together a lot when we were young, but then his dad shipped him off to the Old Country. He grew up with my aunt. She raised him. Uncle Vinnie—that’s Royal’s dad—swore he'd never let Royal run the family, but Auntie B pulls more strings from across the pond than Uncle Vinnie would like.” Lula tilts her head, like she’s dispensing a secret. “She doesn't get along with her brother. Between you and me, not many of us are fans of Uncle Vinnie, but he’s the boss so we all toe the line. Except for Royal.”
“Oh,” I murmur, because what else can I say?
Lula crunches on the last of the cookie. “I don't know what he's planning but you're a part of it.”
I gulp. I wanted more information, and I got it. But now I’m sorry I did. I expected a sip of water and got a blast from a firehose.
“Doesn't Royal need a woman who's more…” I stop because I don't know what I'm going to say. More suited to the role of his wife? More beautiful or knowledgeable about his life?
“More what?” Lula’s eyes soften, but Royal returns, strolling back into the kitchen and standing between us.
“It's time,” he says and holds a hand. And even though I have no idea what’s going on, what this beautiful man is about or why he’s so set on making me his, I walk to him and put my hand in his.
Lula follows us to his office, a quiet smile on her face. Together, their height is intimidating. They’re two tall bookends and I’m the bedraggled kitten between them. One of these things is not like the others. One of these things doesn’t belong.
Royal settles me in his huge desk chair. He takes my hand, checking for the ring. He runs a thumb over the jewel. “Did you and Lula have a good chat?”
“Yes?”
The two of them chuckle at my hesitation.
“So, Leah, in addition to being Royal’s cousin, I’m also the family lawyer.” Lula has her briefcase back in hand. She pulls a packet of papers out. “I drew up the papers you requested, we just need to sign them.”
“I can go,” I say, trying not to look too eager to get out of here, and appear like I’m jumping at reasons to bail.
“Un momento, Leah,” Royal says. “We will need your witness and signature.”
I huff under my breath—foiled—and look around the room while he sits and signs paper after paper. There’s a thick stack of it, creamy-white and plush. I glance around the room, trying to act casual.
“Leah,” Royal calls and pushes it towards me. “Now your signature.”
“Do I want to know what I'm signing?” I mutter as I sign and initial the places Lula points out with her blood-red nails.
“My last will and testament,” Royal says, off-hand.
“What?” My pen pauses, but I’ve already signed the last spot. “Am I witness?” I blink at him.