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“And…I know who could help you train…” Arden looked downright impish.
“Stop it. Stop it right now.”
FOUR
Mac glanced at Colin as he rolled his shoulders and listened to them crackle and pop. His shoulders were stiff, his feet tired after three hours standing outside a title company’s conference room. Their client, Jacob Langley, was inside finalizing a land sale that should’ve closed without incident eight months ago, if Langley’s ex-partner hadn’t spent the interim sending emails full of words like regret your decision to fire me and severe consequences that never once turned into anything. Looked like it would be more of the same today. At least the boring detail gave him the chance to think about Jodie.
After he’d left her house on Sunday, he’d FaceTimed his mom, propped his phone against the pound of sugar he’d bought on his way home, and asked her to walk him through her butter tart recipe step by step.
“It’s not Christmas,” his mom had said. “You’re making these to impress a young lady.” Not a question.
“Yeah, no. I’m making them for someone in the office because she sprained her ankle.”
“Mm-hmm.” His mom’s smile beamed at him from a thousand kilometers away. “Don’t overbake them.”
He hadn’t overbaked them. Well, at least not the second batch.
Monday morning, he’d shown up at Watchdog first thing with the tin tucked under one arm, ready to set it on Jodie’s desk before she’d even had her coffee, and instead found, of all people, Stephanie behind the desk. She clocked the tin and suddenly looked entirely too pleased with herself.
“She’s out today,” Stephanie said before he had a chance to ask. “I left the rec center in Gabe’s capable hands and I’m subbing in her place. It’s the least I can do.” She ran a hand through her perfect silver bob then leaned forward, neck stretched as far as she could. “Bless your heart, honey. You’re about as subtle as a marching band.”
“What are you talking about?” He looked down at the tin of butter tarts like they’d magically appeared in his hand. “These are for the whole team.”
“They’re not for the team. You’re a terrible liar. Jodie refused to tell me who her mystery man was, but Arden let on it was someone Jodie already knew.”
So that’s why she’s here. She’s snooping.
Stephanie continued. “No one else here knows what happened on Saturday. They’ve all come in completely surprised to see Jodie gone. But you, my friend, came bearing a get-well-soon gift.”
“Oh, well, I—”
“Young man, I owe you a debt of gratitude.”
Beauty. I’m screwed.
She pointed at him. “You carried her down the mountain. And punched that bull-pucky excuse for a human being who I hope has to eat through a straw for a month. Do you know he called his mother—his mommy—to complain about a big bad woman he left on a mountain?”
Mac coughed to cover a laugh.
“Go on, laugh. I would too, if I weren’t so mad I could spit nails.” She shook her head, a disgusted expression on her face. “Anyway. I already apologized to that girl six ways from Sunday, and I meant every word of it, which, you should know, I don’t do often. Ask anybody.”
“I believe you.”
“Good.” She sighed as she looked him over, the disgusted expression replaced with a smile and a dreamy look in her eyes. “Thomas MacAllister.”
“Yes, ma’am.”
“Bah.” She waved him off. “Don’t ever ma’am me. You’re gonna make me feel old.”
Mac grinned. “You don’t look a day over thirty.”
“Oh, stop flirting with me. I’m seventy-five and you know it. Masher.” She batted her eyelashes at him as color rose in her cheeks. “Besides, I’m taken, and you and Jodie—”
The lobby door opened and Mac’s partner Colin walked in. “Where’s Jodie?” he asked as soon as he spotted Stephanie.
“See?” Stephanie said, now looking smug. “He has no idea.”
“No idea about what?” Colin looked back and forth between Stephanie and Mac. He spotted the tin and grinned. “Whatever those are, I want one before the rest of the vultures descend on them in the kitchen.”
