Page 85 of On One Condition

“Like be a secret agent or something?” She sits up straighter.

“Nothing quite that intense.” I laugh. “In an effort to kill the mayor with kindness, Hillary and I,” I say, pointing to Hillary, “are working on upgrading your library at school.”

“You are?” Her eyes widen.

“We are. So I think you’re the perfect person to help us decide what exactly it needs.”

“You mean like a reading couch and a moon pod and wobble chairs and another set of Harry Potter because it’s always checked out? That kind of stuff?”

“Exactly that kind of stuff.”

“A way to a woman’s heart is through her books. That’s for darn sure.”

I just stare at her, blinking. There’s nothing else I can do.

She crosses her arms over her chest and purses her lips, clearly in deep thought. “Do I have a budget, or do I get carte blanche?”

Where does she come up with this shit?

“How about you just make a list—”

“It would be much easier if I created a Word doc and gave you links to where to buy the items.”

I stare at her dumbfounded. “What?”

“Yeah. It’s what I do for Momma at Christmas. She says it’s much easier for Santa if he has web links because he has so many kids to get toys for. That way he gets me exactly what I want.”

Can’t fault Momma for that one.

“Okay. If you’re okay with doing that—”

“Kids are fluent in computer these days. Don’t doubt my skills.”

“I won’t. I’m not. I definitely do not doubt you.”

“Good.” She stands and gives us a resolute nod. “I need to get back to Momma. She probably thinks I got lost somewhere and am in some kind of peril. She listens to too many true crime podcasts.” She rolls her eyes. “But I’ll get on that right away as I’m assuming you need progress to get the mayor off your back?”

“Something like that. Thank you for the help.”

“You know, if this thing with the woman you enjoy doesn’t pan out,” she says as she stops to pick up her sign and then looks over her shoulder at me, “I’m available to take her place in about twenty years. Later.”

And with that, Tootie skips out of my office and down the hall.

I meet Hillary’s eyes across the distance. “I want to be her when I grow up,” she says.

CHAPTER TWENTY-EIGHT

Asher

The days pass quickly.

I hate to admit that I would do anything possible to slow them down, to eke out more time with Ledger each day, but it’s true. The clock still turns. The hours still fade. The days turn to night.

And as much as it hurts to admit, I know he has a life to get back to in New York City. He is rarely on the phone when we are together. In fact, I’m rather positive he makes a point to be unplugged. But on the off chance he has to take a call he’s waiting for, I’m immediately reminded of his stature and importance in a world so very foreign to me. Facts and figures roll off his tongue in a no-nonsense tone that has to be intimidating to anyone on the other end of the line, but to me is a turn-on.

There’s nothing sexier than a man who is sure of himself.

But it’s those times when he’s fixing a problem or negotiating with God knows who, that I’m reminded he does have a life that’s real, a penthouse that’s most likely posh, and a social life that’s probably active to get back to.