After the meeting, people crowd around to sign up for the work party. I deliberately hang back until most have finished, then write my name where James will see it. As I'm putting down the pen, Ian sidles up beside me.
"Listen," he drawls in his Southern accent, "our social media engagement is down 30% since you two broke up. The people want their grumpy power couple back. I'm saying, think of the brand."
Wait. What?The words rearrange themselves slowly while I try to figure out what the hell Ian is talking about. "The brand?"
"Yeah, man. #GrumpyInLove was trending on our Instagram." He shrugs. "The people have spoken."
"Wait, you were posting about us?" There is no keeping horror out of my voice.
"Not explicitly," Ian says, somehow making it sound like 'ex-pli-cit-ly.' "Just candid shots. The contrast between your resting bitch face and his adoring looks was social media gold."
"I did not have an adoring look," James says sharply, appearing beside us.
Ian grins. "I have about three hundred photos that say otherwise, darlin'. But don't worry, I'm a gentleman. Your secrets are safe with me." He winks and saunters away.
James and I stand awkwardly for a moment.
"So… You're going tomorrow?"
"Obviously. I organized it." He pauses. "You don't have to come."
"I want to help."
He studies me for a moment, then nods curtly. "Fine. See you there."
It's not much, but as I watch him walk away, it's like the tiniest crack in his walls. Operation Second Chance is officially underway.
I arrive at RHH half an hour early on Saturday to make sure everything is set up correctly before the others arrive. The contractor, Elena, meets me at the entrance with a clipboard.
"Everything's ready, Mr. Huntington," she says crisply, handing it to me. "I've marked which areas are for your volunteers and which my crew will handle when we come back next week."
"Perfect. And thank you again for doing this."
She waves a hand dismissively. "My daughter found a place like this when she needed it. I'm paying it forward."
Her daughter hadn't been kicked out; she'd been physically abused by her father when he discovered her sexuality. Elena had divorced him immediately, but the damage was done. Their daughter had run away, thinking neither parent wanted her. A place like Rainbow Haven had kept her safe until Elena found her.
"A house like this saved my girl's life," Elena had told me when I first contacted her. "I'd rebuild the entire thing from scratch if they needed it."
I study the old Victorian house with new eyes. What I dismissed as shabby on my first visit, I now see as loved but underfunded. The peeling paint and worn stairs are signs of a place that puts its limited resources into the kids, not appearances.
Marcus emerges from inside, his expression guarded as he approaches me. "Your frat brothers are coming?"
"Yes. Should be here soon." My feet shift awkwardly. "I'm sorry I didn't tell you I was arranging this. I wanted it to be... helpful, not presumptuous."
He studies me for a long moment, then nods. "James hasn't mentioned you two are back together."
"We're not… Yet… Hopefully."
A hint of amusement crosses his face. "I see." He motions to the house. "Well, we appreciate the help, however it came about."
A few teens peek out from the windows, watching curiously as I help unload supplies from Elena's truck. They're wary, these kids. I remember how they eyed me at Christmas, like they were waiting for me to reveal my true, judgmental self. It makes my chest ache to think about what they've been through to create that wariness.
The frat brothers arrive in waves, James among the last group. Drew immediately takes charge, clipboard in hand.
"Alright, assignments!" he announces with suspicious enthusiasm. He begins reading off teams. "Tyler and Marcos are on the front porch railings. Gavin and Cameron are in the kitchen. Ian and Noah are on the basement stairs. And finally, James and Caleb will handle the upstairs hallway painting."
James stiffens. "I can work with Tyler instead."
