at the small of her back, he led Peyton through the entryway and into the living room, seating her on a straight-back armchair, he taking a facing matching one. He’d been curious as to why Peyton wanted to meet with him.
“I’d like to apologize for the other night. Even though you’d called the meeting I still invited Celia and Gavin to join us.”
Peyton waved her hand. “That’s all right. If you hadn’t invited them I wouldn’t be your sister’s maid of honor.”
“It’s not all right,” Nicholas countered. “Not only was it rude but also selfish on my part.”
“I don’t want to argue about it, Nicholas. It’s not that critical.”
His eyes drilled into her. “Aren’t you going to accept my apology?”
Peyton returned his glare with one of her own. A shiver eddied over her, bringing a chill despite the comfortable temperature in the room. If Nicholas believed he was going to intimidate her, then he was mistaken. She’d grown up with a father that made intimidation his trademark. Alphonso Blackstone was a harsh taskmaster. The men working for his construction company never slacked off in fear of losing their jobs, and his sternness was transferred to his home where her mother did everything humanly possible to keep the peace. Only Peyton was immune to his unexpected outbursts. She’d learned to tune him out whenever he complained that he had had to lay men off because business orders were down, while her mother placated him with her patent “things will turn around soon.” Lena Blackstone was always the optimist and her husband the pessimist.
“We’ll talk another time.” Celia had just walked into the living room. She stood up, Nicholas rising with her. She stared at Celia, who looked as if she hadn’t slept. Her eyes were puffy and lines of strain bracketed her generous mouth. Closing the space separating them, Peyton hugged Celia. “You look a hot mess,” she whispered in her ear.
Celia returned the hug. “I’m an E.R. trauma doctor supposedly with nerves of steel, but I’m having a meltdown just because I’m getting married.”
“What you need is some comfort food for the Southern soul,” Peyton said. “We’ll stop at a little takeout place and get an order of grits and eggs.” She wanted to tell the prospective bride that getting married was one of the most important events in one’s life, and would change Celia’s and Gavin’s lives forever.
Pulling back, Celia shook her head. “I don’t think I’ll be able to eat anything. And what do you know about soul food?”
Peyton went completely still, struggling to rein in her rising temper. “I know as much about it as you do. And please don’t let the blond hair and gray eyes and the fact I come from upstate New York delude you into thinking I’m not a woman of color.”
Nicholas knew it was time to intervene or Celia would start something with Peyton she had no chance of winning. “Cee Cee, you...” Peyton held up her hand stopping whatever it was he’d planned to say.
“Please stay out of this, Nicholas,” she warned softly. “I can understand what your sister is going through. She’s having premarital jitters, and if she doesn’t get over it real quick I’m going to seduce her drop-dead-gorgeous fiancé. And you know it’s been done before.”
Celia’s eyes grew wide. “You wouldn’t?”
Peyton bit back a smile. Talking about seducing Gavin had shaken Celia from her malaise. “I damn sure will if you don’t stop being a drama queen.”
Squaring her shoulders, Celia straightened her spine. “Okay. I’ll try and eat something.”
“Once you taste Mama Lula’s grits and eggs you won’t be able to stop eating.” Looping her arm through Celia’s she forced her to put one foot in front of the other. Glancing over her shoulder, Peyton smiled at Nicholas. He returned it with a wide grin and a wink.
“Later.”
Nicholas nodded. “Later,” he repeated.
Chapter 2
P eyton knew she was