Page 12 of Just The Way You Aren't

“It’s broken, anyway,” a helpful voice says, opening the modest office’s front door for me. “Hi, I’m Abby. I’m afraid Willow isn’t in yet. She got held up.”

Figures. I go inside the office and decline to sit in the sticky-looking pleather chairs. I’m just tapping my foot impatiently, when I hear a trill of laughter.

No, I think to myself. There’s absolutely no way….

CHAPTER 5

WILLOW

“It’s you!” I gape at the grumpy man in the expensive suit. Oh my god, is he delicious! I have to stare for a minute because I hadn’t gotten the chance to before. I’d been too worried about poor little Pixie. Now? I can hardly glance away from him. Dark hair, emerald-green eyes, sharp, square jawline. If it weren’t for his scowl, he’d be truly handsome.

I wonder what he looks like when he smiles?

He’s standing, towering, really, which kind of figures. Mrs. Steinburg had all eleven of her grandchildren here this morning, or so Abby texted me, and Abby gave all of them Dum-Dums. Sucker sticky is all over the place. I can even clearly see fingerprints on the front window.

I can’t help but laugh. “So, this is the appointment you were late for? Turns out, I’m late, too. What a coincidence!”

He clearly doesn’t find this as funny as I do. He straightens his expensive-looking tie and holds out a hand to me. “Damien Langley, CEO of Langley Enterprises.”

“Willow Harper, Executive Director of Silver Hearts,” Ireply, biting down on my lip so I don’t laugh again. So formal! I can’t help myself; I look him up and down. While he looks good enough to eat in his smart suit, tie, and honest-to-God cufflinks, I’m not quite sure how he’s going to get any work done today.

He blinks slowly at me as though confused, giving me the once-over as well. “You’re the executive director?”

I grin and point to the door to my small office. “Yep, that’s my name right over there on the door.”

Damien glances at the door, then at me, then back to the door. “The name plaque is mounted crooked,” he mumbles.

I laugh. “You’re so funny. I think Mrs. Steinburg’s youngest was playing with it again. I promise it’s not always cattywampus.”

He frowns. “Catty… what?”

“Wampus. You don’t know what that means?”

He clears his throat and gathers himself. “Of course I do. I just never expected it to come out of an executive director’s mouth.”

Ouch. Harsh. I raise an eyebrow at him. “Well, I never expected they’d send someone here in a suit to pass out meals.”

Damien chokes. “Come again?”

“We’re delivering meals today,” I say slowly. “Didn’t they tell you?”

He grumbles something that sounds like ‘Alfred’ under his breath, then raises that sharp, squared chin. “There must be some mistake. I’m here to plan a fundraiser event.”

He sounds put out, yet I’m the one doing him the favor. “Look. Your company was adamant that I hire you and passing out meals is part of the job. You need to meet the people we serve, anyway, if we’re going to plan this eventright. So, suck it up, buttercup. We’re delivering meals today.”

“Buttercup?” He looks so offended I almost apologize, but he did just insult my language skills, so I hold back. He takes a deep, steadying breath. “I suppose we’re going to hitch a wagon behind your bicycle?”

“Of course not.” I laugh. “We’ll use the van.”

“Van?”

“You really think I deliver meals dragging a Radio Flyer behind my bike?” I grin at him. “I just use that to get around.”

“I know I’m going to regret asking this,” he mutters, “but why do you ride a bicycle around when you have a van?”

I tick the points off on my fingers. “It saves gas, it’s good exercise, and I live near here so there’s really no reason for me to have a car of my own. The van belongs to Silver Hearts.”

“I see.” I can hear the silent scream in his mind from here.

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