“Are you doing that thing where you let the idea be mine so I want to do it, but really it was your idea?”
“I’m just talking,” he said, those blue eyes of his sparkling in the morning sun.
“This plan has nothing to do with music. I’ve done yoga before.”
“Yup.” His lips stretched into a wry smile. “That’s why it’s perfect for you.”
“I thought I was supposed to come up with something new?”
“And you did.”
She didn’t hate the idea. Not in the least.
“I already teach yoga a few times a week…maybe adding another class isn’t a bad idea.” She settled back to her chair, still keeping her feet grounded.
“Maybe not.”
She turned her body toward him. “I don’t like that you just got your way.”
“Is everybody going to win?” he asked. Again, not even looking at her. Just staring at the sky.
“Yes,” she admitted reluctantly.
“Then I can live with that.”
They sat in the silence as she processed how she could turn her Tuesday class into a food drive. Maybe she just did a bonus class earlier in the day? That would work. This week the kids were going to be with Kent anyway, and she could send an email to everyone who had signed up, letting them know about the change. The logistics were surprisingly simple.
“Sometimes the best lessons are the hardest to accept,” Jack said with a small smile. “And the easiest to learn.”
April groaned. And, yes, it may have been out loud. “Does your wisdom always come in one-line sound bites?”
“Not all of it.” He grinned because they both knew he had already won this one. Everyone would win in this one. “Sometimesmy wisdom comes in two-line sound bites.”
Chapter Fourteen
“When my twins were little, the boy twin pissed off the girl twin. She went on a rant about going to jail and having only water and bread and ended up screaming, ‘There’s no jelly in jail!’ So now, when I feel like I’m about to strangle somebody, I remind myself ‘there’s no jelly in jail’ and if I say it to the twins, they know I’m talking myself off a ledge and they need to scatter and lie low for a while.”
—Anonymous, Alabama, United States
Jack
The problem with April Davis was her button nose. See, a button nose like April’s led a guy like Jack to believe that she was sweet and innocent. April was neither. No, April Davis had some kick to her. A dash of spice in her sweet.
And, he’d learned from spending a day with her, underneath that veneer of calm was a flame.
A super stressed-out flame. Which was why he didn’t broach the subject of the cookbook with her quite yet. Or the new MyTube channel he’d cooked up in his brain. First, they needed to keep the pressure on her brand. Get it back to solid. They were well on their way there.
Now, he needed to help her relax. Apparently, according to Kitty, that meant doing the laundry.
While he didn’t see how one plus one equaled two on this point, he decided to try. Because…well…he didn’t have a better idea yet.
So he shot off another email, handled a client Twitter situation—and the accompanying Facebook emergency—then he went back to the…laundry.
Thank fuck, his phone rang.
“Hi,” he greeted his sister, Rachel, as he picked up her call and covertly shoved a load into the washing machine while April finished her pitch to a very excited food bank about to get a large donation. He adjusted the phone against his cheek. “What’s up?”
“Did you figure out the whole whites versus colors thing?” Rachel asked.
