“How’s my favorite godson?” she said in her tired but good-natured voice, turning to him.
“Aren’t I your only godson?”
“So far,” she said with a shrug.
“You sound like you’re expecting to be asked for the honor again sometime soon.”
“Anything can happen,” she said. “Are you ready? It’s cold outside. I need my coffee.”
He acquiesced. “Where’s it going to be today?” She slipped her gnarled hand onto his elbow, and he deliberately slowed his pace so she could keep up. “Debbie’s?”
“We go there every time.”
“When we meet for breakfast, I suppose,” Hawk said. “Though we’ve mostly been meeting for lunches lately.” Today was a special occasion for Faye. One of her grandkids had a birthday party later that afternoon. Hawk suggested breakfast, and here they were.
“Then we’d better stop in at Debbie’s,” Faye said. “Don’t want them to forget us.”
“We definitely wouldn’t want that,” Hawk said with a chuckle as he held the door open for her. A brush of frigid air greeted him, along with flurries of snow. The sky was gray, the perfect shade for sleigh bells and snowball fights.
“You know, you’re the highlight of my week,” Faye said. “Might as well be everyone else’s.”
“You’re mine too, Faye,” he said, “but that doesn’t mean everyone remembers us when we go into their establishments.”
“Oh, you might be surprised.” She tucked her chin into her purple coat. Hawk stroked her hand, wishing he could help her stay warm. Faye always insisted they walk to their destinations since his office was central to several restaurant options and she wanted her exercise. Maybe he should get her a pair of gloves for Christmas this year.
She claimed staying fit was harder to do at her age. Hawk wasn’t sure what that number was, exactly. He valued his hide far too much to ask outright, so he figured indulging her request to walk was the best option.
Today, Hawk would have loved to drive her somewhere. The hazy fog made a lace skirt on the street. Snow spun around them, chilling his nostrils and ears. He shivered.
“Hey, how about La Comida Buena for one of their breakfast burritos?” Hawk suggested. “It’s closer.”
He expected her to protest, but instead, she agreed. “Let’s do it.”
Guiding her across the crosswalk, which was hidden somewhere beneath the slush, he knew he wasn’t alone in being relieved to pass the handful of shops and step into La Comida Buena’s heated serving area. A glass pane displaying the company’s logo and backed by colored lights and bubbles welcomed them. Hawk knew the menu by heart, and he suspected Faye did too by now.
She let go of him and hobbled across the black mat, which was collecting the snow from their shoes, and toward the line of people waiting to order. Christmas music played overhead.
Hawk trudged along behind her. After watching employees assemble their burrito and prepare their coffee, he paid for their breakfast.
“How have things been?” Hawk set the tray of food on the rack in front of the drink dispensers.
“I’m getting by,” Faye said, “though I have to say, Social Security isn’t what it’s cracked up to be.”
He retrieved a few napkins and placed them on the tray.
“What’s happening?” He picked up the tray and led the way to the nearest vacant table. “I thought you said things were going well financially.”
Faye unbuttoned her coat and placed it on the back of the chair before sitting. Once the tray was before her, she busied herself assembling her silver foil bowl and his, along with their utensils. The smell of eggs, sausage, and cheese drifted straight to his stomach. Hawk was eager to dig in.
“It’s got to be this dadgum Christmas season,” Faye said, cutting into her breakfast burrito. “Don’t get me wrong. I love the lights and music and celebration as much as anyone else. But things get tight when you’ve got higher heating bills and more presents to buy than usual.”
Faye had thirteen grandchildren, some adults, some teenagers, and one toddler, all of whom she loved to spoil. Hawk knew her retirement was spent divvying her time up between them and himself and that nothing made her happier.
“You don’t have to spend a lot on them,” he said, taking a bite of his overstuffed burrito. “And don’t bother getting me anything.”
“Are you kidding? They’re my grandbabies. I’ve got to get them something. And as for you, even billionaires need Christmas presents.”
A blush hit his cheeks. He glanced around, hoping no one heard her reference to his financial status.
“It isn’t that, Faye.” He lowered his voice. “I don’t want you putting yourself out for my sake.”
“I’m not,” she said. “I’m doing it for mine. I’m the grandma and the godmother. It’s part of the job description.” She gave him a wrinkly smile.
“Not for me it isn’t,” he argued. “You know your grandkids also love you with or without gifts.”
A shrug. “Even so, Hawkie boy, it’s Christmas.”
He stared at his food. “That it is. Seems like someone is reminding me of that every hour.”
She lowered her utensils and speared him with an unswerving glare. “What’s happening with you?”
“Too much. I don’t want to bore you.”
Faye’s pointed look deepened.
Hawk laughed. Fighting her was no use, though he decided not to mention the recent theft. Knowing Faye, she’d try to track the culprit down herself and demand the stolen items be returned that instant. “It’s nothing. Typical work stuff. Then the elevator getting stuck—”
“The elevator got stuck? With you on it? When did this happen?”
“Just before I met up with you, actually. And the woman I was on it with—”
Faye perked up. If she wasn’t interested before, she undoubtedly was now. She’d been egging him on for months to start dating again after ending things with Amelia Solace.
Faye scooted her chair closer to him.
“You were stuck on it with a woman? Tell me everything.”
There was that pesky blush again, heating his cheeks with unwanted vigor. He was a grown man, for goodness’ sake. If Faye hoped for
