“He seems quite taken with you.” Fable meets my gaze with a hopeful one of her own. “The feeling is mutual. In fact, we’re having a real date in San Francisco after Christmas.” “And I set it up,” Mac puts in. Mom ruffles Mac’s hair. “Of course you did.” She looks at Fable, then me, then smiles smugly. “I hate to say I told you so, Wilder. But I told you so.” “And you were right,” I say. “Yes, I was.”
