Well, this sucks.
But that’s not going to stop me from giving Riley the best night of her life and making sure she helps the town get the funding that it needs.
As long as I manage to keep my big mouth shut about the small stuff that doesn’t matter, no matter how I feel about Wilson Rogers III.
I pre-pay for the suit and head out the door.
I have some thinking to do.
On the opposite side of the street, Riley is heading into the Bluejay Café. I check the time on the fire department’s clock tower. It’s that time—brunch with Maddie.
Damn. The suit appointment took longer than I expected. I was hoping to catch her before now.
Instead, I head into Robin’s Deli & Groceries store and pick up some gummy bears, Pringles, and dark chocolate with almonds, and her favorite coffee flavoring from the dairy case.
I grab some flowers from Gina at the party station next to the deli, but Gina grabs the carnations out of my hand and switches them for a red-violet daisy.
“She’ll like this better.”
I give Gina a nod of thanks, then I pay for my stuff and head over to Riley’s studio. She’s still at lunch, but I let myself in.
Yesterday I was being polite. I still have a key to the building from the time I rewired the upstairs for Daphne. It was taking so long that she ended up giving me a key.
Riley would be horrified, but I go upstairs anyway and leave the bag of snacks at the top of the stairs, and put the flowers in an empty jar that I find on a shelf with a dozen other jars, presumably that she uses for any number of things while she’s painting.
I let myself out, not sure if that’s the nicest or the creepiest thing I’ve ever done for a woman.
Chapter
Nine
Riley
At the Bluejay Café, gets down to business the second after Bianca takes our brunch orders.
“So, are you ready for the gala?”
The art gala is tomorrow, and I was hoping this brunch would help me take my mind off of it. I’ve been hunkered down with my paints since Rowdy left yesterday, trying to come up with something to wow the donors. So far I’ve come up empty, and I’ve psyched myself out. Sometimes solitude doesn’t serve me so well; I get all up in my head.
“Yep,” I say. “ I’m picking up my dress from Lulu right after this.”
Maddie bounces up and down in her seat. “Can I come with you and see the dress?”
I agree and then shift the conversation away from me.
“I heard that we got a record number of items for the silent auction this year,” I say. “Your daddy’s garage is donating a brand new set of tires.” Maddie nods with a sly smile and sips her coffee.
“I donated something, too.”
I sit up straight.
“You did? What?”
Maddie has a business degree, but she hasn’t really figured out what she wants to do, aside from bookkeeping and reception at her dad’s garage.
She leans forward. I know this look. Maddie and I have been friends since preschool. And when she gets that look on her face, she’s cooking up something huge.
“I took the plunge. Officially on Monday, I am hanging my shingle.”
