Dismissing the subject of Foster, we continue with our brunch.
We have more important things to discuss, like what the heck I’m going to wear to this date, and how the heck I’m not going to scare said date away with my chatterbox ways and tendency to overshare.
I have a lot of work to do on myself before Valentine’s Day.
Chapter
Three
Foster
All day at the store, I can’t get Ari out of my head.
Why is she in such a good mood when it’s below 20°F?
How could her hands be so soft in this harsh weather?
And how does she deliver such biting commentary with such a sweet smile on her face?
Most importantly, why am I still thinking about her?
I’m thinking about all of this when Maddie stops by again just before closing.
“I filled out the questionnaire,” I tell her before the door closes behind her.
“That’s not why I’m here, but thank you,” she says with a twinkle in her eye. “I was wondering if we could use your muscle down at the community center.”
Here we go.
“Do you need me to sponsor some food? Whatever you need, I’ll write you a check.” I’m hoping the offer of cold, hard cash will be enough of a signal that I don’t want to be physically involved with this dance. I still have to figure out how to convince Maddie to reschedule this infernal blind date.
The truth is, I hate Valentine’s Day. It’s a particularly painful date for me, and I don’t like to talk about it. Not even with Rowdy, the best friend I have in Songbird Ridge.
“Food? No, I’ve got that all covered,” Maddie says, listing off everything on her fingers, almost like she’s trying to remember everything herself. She has the energy of a person who has taken on too much. “Four and 20 Bakery is doing a dessert table. The Magpie is providing seafood canapés. Bluejay Café is providing an assortment of homemade chips and dips. The local creamery is hosting a sweetheart shake station…”
And now I’m hungry.
Balling my hands into fists, I rest them on the counter and arch my eyebrow at Maddie. “Okay. What do you need?”
“One of our local artists has this very specific vision for the decorations, and we need someone to help her tonight.”
It sounds like a lot of work, but I know I’m not gonna get away with saying no.
“I can be there as soon as I close up.”
“That’s wonderful, Foster. Bring your toolbox!” Maddie chirps, waving goodbye.
Barely five minutes later, there’s a knock on the front door, after I’ve already locked up.
I look up, and there’s Ari, waving at me. The sun is setting on the ridge behind her, and the glow around her looks like a halo.
I swallow, aware I’m going to have to talk to her again. She’s wrapped in a big, oversized poncho and carries the coat over her arm.
“Here you go, and thanks so much,” she says when I open the door and let her inside.
“Keep it,” I reply, going back to the task of emptying the register into my bank bag.
I can’t make eye contact with her. Her pretty eyes, glowing skin, and wide smile are too much for me. I need to get her outof my head, especially if I’m about to be around Valentine’s Day crap later, hanging cheap cupid decorations on the wall and tossing conversation hearts on tables.
