If she only knew what to say. If only he didn’t have better things to be thinking about just now than a neurotic, obsessive ex-girlfriend. An arrow to the crotch, for one, and his upcoming wedding, for another.

“Angie?”

The odd thing was, she must have finally drifted off to sleep sitting in the sun, because she was dreaming about Caroline Rose, who seemed to be floating across the lawn toward her.

Angie righted herself so quickly that a sharp, sudden pain shot up her back.

“I didn’t mean to startle you,” Caroline said, looking as uncertain and embarrassed as Angie felt. “And I realize that it’s very early to be calling, but I do have a good reason. May I?”

“Sure.” Angie moved to the far end of the bench, wondering just how much of an ass she was about to make of herself and what she would say if Caroline Rose raised those topics Angie least wanted to talk about. She looked toward the house and sent a silent plea to Rivera. Come rescue me.

“Miss Zula and Miss Maddie sent me,” said Caroline. “To see if you’d like to come by for breakfast.”

“Breakfast?” Angie echoed. A spark of professional interest overrode her discomfort. All week they had been waiting for this first invitation to the little house on Magnolia Street, and here it was.

“It’s a tradition, once a month,” Caroline was explaining. “The goddaughters’ breakfast. Miss Zula is my godmother and Miss Maddie is my sister Harriet’s godmother. Once in a while they invite someone else to join us.” Her hands fluttered up out of her lap and then fell again. “All women, of course.”

“Of course,” Angie echoed. All women meant no John Grant, which was a good thing just now. She said, “Look, tell me honestly. Will Miss Zula be insulted if I send my regrets?”

Caroline looked distinctly surprised at such a suggestion. “It’s very hard to insult Miss Zula if you’re being honest,” she said. “Miss Maddie is another matter, of course. She does love to cook for folks.”

“Then I’d be happy to,” Angie said, resigned. “I’ll just get my shoes.”

Caroline’s gaze jumped toward the house and back again. “The invitation was for both of you. Would Rivera be interested, do you think?”

“If I can get her out of bed,” Angie said. “Let me—”

“There’s John,” said Caroline.

Angie went very still. “John?”

“John,” echoed Caroline. She pointed with her chin. “Just there.”