“He meant a lot to you, huh?”
“He picked up where my dad left off. Taught me about everything that matters.” Except how to talk to a beautiful woman.
I imagine us curled up in front of my woodstove, where words wouldn’t be required. Instead, I’d drop a kiss onto her shoulder, feather light. She’d turn to me and our …
“We could save money if we consolidate these two orders. Same supplier, better bulk rate.” She twirls her hair and studies the merchant list.
“That’s smart.” I lean over to look at what she’s marked, and suddenly we’re close enough that I can see the flecks of honey in her brown eyes.
She doesn’t move away.
Neither do I.
“Patton,” she says quietly. “When did we stop hating each other?”
“Who says we stopped?”
“The homemade pickles say we stopped.”
“You like them?”
“I do.”
I can’t help it. A laugh breaks free, deep and genuine.
Her whole face lights up like I’ve given her something better than dinner. She joins me and we forget the paperwork and talk as if we’re on a date, with our shared laughter filling my lonely house.
“Knocking the rust off, are you?” she asks when I catch my breath after she tells me about a styling mishap during her pageant days.
“Don’t get used to it.”
“Too late.” She’s grinning now. Like a yawn, it’s contagious. I’m grinning back like an idiot. I’m afraid this is a problem.
I was supposed to stay one step ahead. Be tactical. Win the bet.
Instead, I’m eating dinner with Winnie, making her laugh, and realizing with increasing panic that sometime between vendor negotiations and Valentine’s Day coffee, whatever this is—it’s no longer about winning anything.
It’s about her.
20
WINNIE
Mindy standsin front of a whiteboard in one of the Parks & Rec conference rooms. “Okay, so we need a multi-pronged approach.”
I stare at it. “Is that a flowchart?”
Thomas nods proudly. “Green is for activities Patton will enjoy. Yellow designates conversational topics and red is for danger zones.”
Pauline holds a clipboard. “We’ve been observing.”
My jaw hits the basement level of the building with shock and, fine, a bit of awe, but mostly concern. “You’ve been spying.”
“Strategically observing,” Thomas counters.
Mindy taps the air with her pointer finger. “Note the difference.”
In all caps, the project is titledOperation Make Maverick Smile. Beneath that, in color-coded dry-erase markers and sticky notes, I read their plan.
