She had on jeans, Converse, and a long-sleeved gray top she’d owned for at least four years. She’d kept the shirt because it flattered what she considered to be her best feature, her fairly well-endowed chest. The rest of her was mostly average.
Her stylist had put golden-brown balayage highlights into her brunette hair recently. And she’d finally figured out how to style her current shoulder-length cut into the artless waves (which took effort to make look artless) that her stylist had intended.
Until this moment she’d been satisfied with her appearance today. Now she wished she’d made more of an effort. Olivia would have.
“So you signed up to volunteer with Mission:Christmas, too?” she asked.
“I did. When I read about it in the church bulletin, it seemed like something I could do.” One of his shoulders lifted. “To help.”
“Of course! I think you’ll really enjoy it.” Several single women were shooting her glances zinging with degrees of jealousy and wistfulness.
“Have you volunteered with Mission:Christmas before?” he asked.
“This will be my third year.” She’d participated each Christmas since returning to Merryweather, Washington, after her lackluster stint in San Francisco.
“That’s reassuring. You know the ropes.”
“I do!” That sounded entirely too merry. She couldn’t even blame spiked eggnog.
“I can be your assistant,” he said.
“Fabulous. I’ve always wanted an assistant. My Christmas wish has already come true.”
“Happy to oblige.”
Once Janice handed them their folder, Maddie and Leo found a quiet spot near the side wall. She pulled free the two sheets of paper that offered pertinent details about the family that had been entrusted to them. “It looks like we’ve been given a single mom named Kim Huntington and her two daughters. Kim lives here in Merryweather and was let go from her job a few months back.” Sympathy squeezed Maddie as she imagined trying to face Christmas as a single mom without paychecks coming in. She handed one of the sheets to Leo. They each read their sheet, switched, then read the second sheet.
“What’s our plan of attack?” Leo asked.
“In the past, my partner and I have kicked things off by meeting with the recipients so they can let us know how we can help.” Maddie slid the papers back into the folder.
“Sounds good.”
He met her eyes and for a split second she got lost in the cloudy gray of his irises. It was a cool shade, soft like the sky over the Pacific Ocean in the morning.
By rights, God should have given the bookish and academic Leo a nerdy exterior. Instead, God had given him the sort of blatant good looks ordinarily reserved for Formula One drivers and South American soccer players. Thus, women swooned over him at every turn while Leo—when he stopped thinking about French Revolutionary history long enough to notice—wondered why they were swooning.
He looked down.
Olivia’s confidence level had been at a 99. Maddie and Leo were both very competent in their professions, but socially Maddie’s confidence level hovered around 85 and Leo’s around 70.
“The church will lend a hand with fundraising,” Maddie said. “They’ll divide the proceeds from their Christmas Bazaar and their Jingle Bell Walk evenly between all the teams. Even so, my partner and I have also held a garage sale on our own in past years. That’s been great because it’s increased our Mission:Christmas budget, and it’s also given me and the rest of my family a reason to clear out our clutter.”
“I’m up for a garage sale. After that, we go shopping?”
“Yes. Then we deliver everything to the Huntingtons in time for Christmas.”
“Got it.”
“If it’s all right with you, I’ll go ahead and call Kim Huntington and find out when she can meet with us.”
“Sure.”
“Awesome.”
He studied her, his attention both steady and kind. “Is everything going well at the chocolate shop?”
“Very well.”
