“You need to move those boxes,” Randall points to the two towers.
“Yeah. Yeah. I know,” Judy says. “Jimmy just set those there this morning. I’ll get to ’em. We had a rush. And before you get out your clipboard and get all happy scribbling things, we stayed within occupancy. Just barely. You know how that pancake special brings them in like flies to manure.”
Randall quips, “Is that your new slogan?”
“You’re exasperatin’. You know that, Randall?” Judy huffs. “Some people and their power trips. I’m tellin’ ya. There’s only one man I answer to, and he’s the man upstairs.”
“Judy, this is a one-story building,” Randall says. “No men live upstairs.”
She rolls her eyes and then raises her brows in my direction. “Don’t go copying Randall, Carli. There’s ways to do the job. And then there’s ways to do the job.”
I smile at Judy and then quickly shoot Randall a professional expression that tells him I’m not going soft.
“We’ll be back in two weeks, Judy,” Randall says after we tour the rest of the kitchen. “Have the issues fixed by then.”
“Promises, promises,” Judy says, staring pointedly at Randall. “Men always say they’ll come back.”
I can’t be sure, but I think Randall blushes. He runs a finger under his starched collar. “Well, that’ll be all. Let’s go, Carli. Good day, Judy.”
Judy crosses her arms over her chest. “Soon as you let thefront door hit you in the backside it will be a mighty fine day.”
Then she turns to me, her face softening. “Bye, dear. Come back for a celebration lunch on me anytime—with or without your clipboard.”
I mutter a thanks and hurry out behind Randall.
Randall and Judy? Could it be? The tension between them could have set off a kitchen fire. Maybe their history is common knowledge. Being on the farm doesn’t shield us from gossip, but we stay busy and we don’t get into town as often as most people. I guess I’ll be catching up on whatever I missed now.
The next few inspections are far less interesting. We return to the offices, file reports and clock out. I’m tired, but smiling all the way home. I did it. I made it through my first day at work. I want to call McKenna—but I hesitate. What if I accidentally blurt something about Cody. The kiss. The way he tapped my foot under the table during lunch at the bakery. How he looks at me now. It’s different.
I don’t know what he wants to talk about—in general, yes. Specifically, no. He could recite the myriad of reasons why we can never kiss again. And he’d be right. But, maybe … I can’t even go there. My smile falls just the slightest and my skin feels too tight. But then I remember his lips on mine. Twice. And the smile spreads like honey on a warm biscuit. I guess I’ll find out one way or another tomorrow in the Lawsons’ barn.
The smell of warm biscuits fills the cab of my truck. I brought local honey and butter I hand churned in a mason jar. Extra? Yes. It’s extra. But I woke before the sun and needed something to do with all this pent-up energy.
My fingers practically tingle on the steering wheel and my knee bounces lightly as I turn into the Lawsons’ driveway.
Cody’s truck is pulled up close to the other cars in front of the main house.
He’s here.
I open the door and grab the warm pan of biscuits with the bag of toppings, telling myself this is just another morning. Just another trip to bring my neighbors something home-cooked.
The door pops open and I brace myself for the rush of seeing Cody.
McKenna bounds onto the porch. “Carli!”
“Hey!” I shout out, regrouping quickly.
I’m happy to see her. I am. Of course I am.
“It’s been way too long!” she exclaims.
A rush of guilt floods me, dulling the buzz of excitement under my skin like a shot of novocaine.
“How was your first day?”
“It was good.” I return McKenna’s smile. “I have so much to tell you.”
She links her arm through mine, grabbing the bag of honey and butter and peeking inside it.
