“My mother is going to keep trying to set you up with guys. Chances are, I’ll know them.” John took two steps to one side and chucked his beer bottle a few feet into a recycling can, came back and shoved his hands in his pockets. “I love my mother, and I can tell you do too, but we both know her definition of ‘nice boy’ is prohibitively inclusive. All you need to qualify is the Y chromosome and a pulse.”

Mary couldn’t help but laugh.

He blinked at her for a second and cleared some gravel out of his throat, although it didn’t make that two-toned voice any less hoarse. “I put my foot in my mouth earlier, but you can trust me to give it to you straight. If there’s one thing I’m good for...”

“You won’t sugarcoat anything for me.”

“Exactly.”

“You want to help me weed through candidates?” she guessed.

“Here, take my number and you can text me the names of the guys she wants you to meet. I’ll let you know whether they’re worth your time. Or email. Whatever.”

“My phone is in your mother’s house.” She eyed John for a moment. He had a thin mouth made thinner by the way he was pressing his lips together. He had the shadowed look of dark-haired men who shave their beards but never lose that bluish shading about the jaw. His eyes were startlingly bright, and cold, and surly, but the judgment that she’d seen at the restaurant was absent. He was rude, but he’d apologized for that, and apologized well. And she definitely trusted his taste in men more than his mother’s. She made a split-second decision. “But you can have my number and text me so I have yours.”

His eyebrows flicked upward from their typical downward V, but only for a second. He seemed surprised that she would volunteer her number. He pulled his phone from his pocket, a smaller iPhone model that had been new about seven years ago, but the screen was completely smudge and scratch free. He typed in her number as she told it to him and sent off a quick text to her.

“Have a good rest of the party,” he told her.

“You too.”

Luckily, Estrella held off on the parade of men for the rest of the time, and Mary was able to enjoy herself. Samuel never reappeared. Mary assumed he’d been summoned home by his wife. She caught a few more glimpses of John through the crowd and then she thought he must have left.