âMr.
Fernandez, whatâs the deal? Snooping around? Canât say Iâm shocked.
Fancy clothes often cover up hypocrisy,â she quipped.
Lyndon coughed, quickly regaining his cool.
âThereâs no need for sass.
Your place is so snug.
If you want privacy, some soundproofing during renovations wouldnât hurt.
â
âYou!â
Tilda was floored by his cheek.
âThis is my turf.
I donât need your two cents on home decor.
â
Lyndon raised a brow, firing back, âIf you know itâs your place, you should remember Iâm your guest.
Youâre a well-received scriptwriter.
Arenât manners part of your expertise? Seems like you skipped that class!â
âWhat a nerve!â
Tilda was stunned again.
Staring at his handsome face, she fought the urge to slap him.
âWhat a piece of work! Turns out heâs got a mouth on him!â Tilda mused under her breath.
Nearby, Elma caught a glimpse of the showdown.
Seeing their clash, she grinned kindly.
To Elma, they looked like a couple having a spat.
Mr.
Fernandez sure knew how to spice up the place!
Later that evening, Rosalynn came home to find Gail just finishing up some baking.
âWhoa, smells amazing!â Rosalynn gushed.
Gail beamed, saying, âRosa, whipped up some blueberry cookies.
Fresh out of the oven.
Want to try?â
âYou bet.
â
Rosalynn sauntered over, a grin plastered on her face.
Gail popped a cookie in her mouth, asking, âHowâs that?â
Rosalynn nodded eagerly.
âDelish! Mom, your cooking gets better and better!â
Hearing the praise, Gail grinned and handed Rosalynn another piece once sheâd finished.
âEasy on them, donât spoil your appetite for dinner,â Gail advised.
Rosalynn was tempted for more cookies but she heeded her momâs words and stopped.
Glancing around, she inquired, âMom, whereâs my mother-in-law?â