“Everything set for Final Friday?” Willow asked Leslie. “Anything else I can help with?”
“I don’t think so. The musicians will be here at 6:30. I got a corner cleared for them. Marissa will work the floor. She said Collin plans to help her.” Leslie winked. “I think it’s just his excuse to be near her. The poor boy is smitten.”
“And the refreshments should be delivered by five.”
“I’ll manage the food table and Joel plans to man the desk.”
“Great. That allows me to mingle with the guests.” Willow thanked her and was about to leave. “I’ll be in my apartment until six ... so if George Emerson happens to call down here, please, ask him to call me on my cell. It’s important.”
“So are you guys back on again?” Leslie had a teasing tone. Probably because Willow had confided too much to her, but it had been nice having someone to commiserate with her.
“No, we are not back on again,” Willow firmly declared. “I doubt that George will ever forgive me for that fateful balloon ride.”
Leslie giggled. “I can still imagine him sitting on that bucket with his green face then tumbling out onto the football field.”
“Don’t ever repeat that story,” Willow warned her, “or I’ll never trust you again.”
“Don’t worry. Mum’s the word.” She lowered her voice. “But if you’re still in the doghouse with George, why do you expect him to call?”
Willow grimaced. “Because I gave him a cat.”
“What?”
“I know, I know.” Willow held up her hands. “Chalk it up to temporary insanity. But I just felt that he needed a cat.”
“Buttoned-up Mr. Emerson with a pet?” Leslie looked doubtful.
“Well, the deal was this—if George doesn’t want the cat, I do. So if he calls, I want to talk to him.Understand?”
Leslie gave a mock salute and Willow went up to her apartment ... to sit by the phone. When George never called, she knew she should be grateful. Maybe the cat had actually won him over, although that was unlikely. Instead of feeling relieved, she felt disappointed—and concerned. Hopefully she’d made herself clear with George. If he did not want the cat, she did. Surely, he wouldn’t try to return it to the shelter. She could just imagine him marching over there with the cat carrier in hand, demanding that they take the cat back.
But there wasn’t time to worry about that now. Willow needed to get ready for tonight’s showing. She was just putting on the finishing touches when she heard someone knocking on her door. She hurried to get it, certain that it would be George and Baxter, but it was Josie standing there with acup in hand. “I’m making mac-n-cheese and all out of milk. Can I borrow some?”
Willow nodded. “Help yourself.” She wanted to remind Josie that she’d been given a food “budget,” and that maybe it was time for her to start a serious job hunt. But she knew that could lead to an unwanted conflict.
“What are you all dolled up for?” Josie asked as she opened the fridge. “Big date with George tonight?”
“No.” Willow hadn’t told Josie about the failed balloon ride.
“Where’s he been anyway?” Josie filled her cup. “I miss seeing him around.”
“I think he’s been busy, honey.”
“So why are you all gussied up in your gypsy outfit?”
Willow glanced down at her bohemian dress. “I suppose I do look like a gypsy,” she admitted. “We’re having a showing in the gallery. Naturally, I need to look artsy and dramatic. Think this works?”
“I guess so.” Josie’s brows arched. “Will there be food at your little shindig?”
“Mostly cheese and crackers.” Willow hoped Josie didn’t want to come. She could just imagine her raggedy daughter coming down in her uniform of ratty, paint-splattered jeans and torn rocker T-shirt—and making a scene. Even so, Willow knew she needed to handle this carefully and honestly. “There will also be live music. Just a small folk trio, so it shouldn’t be too loud.”
“Foodandmusic?” Josie nodded. “I guess I’ll come.”
Willow forced what she hoped was a believable smile. “That would be great, honey. Just so you know, people tend to dress up a little for these shows. Not formally, I mean, but nice.”
“Nice?”Josie scowled. “What’s that supposed to mean? Are you saying I don’t dress nice enough to come to my mother’s hoity-toity art show?”
“Well, do you have anything that’s not worn, torn, or stained?” Willow braced herself.
