Page 18 of Just The Way You Aren't

“They both want a deposit. And, I mean, we can afford it, but then we won’t be able to afford to serve our clients. The senior center needs new chairs. Bessie needs gas. We have to be able to buy food for meals.” She counts the different problems on her fingers.

I frown at the angry language the venue used in their text. It doesn’t seem to be the proper way to respond to potential business prospects, especially a charity. “I see.” I smell strawberry again and realize we’re so close our foreheads are nearly touching.

All I want to do is continue breathing her in, especially when those big, beautiful hazel eyes meet my gaze.

She’s not my type, I remind myself sternly.

We spring apart at the same time, both of us looking everywhere but at each other.

“So, yeah.” She puts her phone away.

“I’ll put down the money for the venue and the caterer,” I say, deciding the easiest way to deal with the problems is to simply solve them and move on with my life. Even—and especially—the problem of my attraction to her.

To my surprise, she shakes her head. “No.”

“What do you mean, no?” I ask, feeling my forehead furrow in confusion.

“You’re not going to come here and ‘fix things,’ then leave us hanging afterward,” she says firmly.

She might as well have slapped me. “I would never do that.”

“Uh-huh.”

I’m about to argue my case, or at the very least defend my character, but she’s already moved on.

“I’ll let you get the van. But that’s all.” She even seems bothered by that small concession. “If you want to save the world in a day, you’ve come to the wrong place.”

I purse my lips. “So, I can buy the van, but not help you with your deposits?”

“That’s right,” she replies proudly.

Pride. Ah, that’s it. “You know, you’re going to have to learn how to accept help if you’re having a fundraiser. People will be donating.”

“I know that.” She folds her arms over her chest and looks out the window.

Something is bothering her, but for the life of me, I can’t figure out what it is. “Okay,” I say. “I don’t like the tone of that venue’s communication. I’ll tell you what. You won’t let me donate money, but I have connections at a local hotel and I think they can help us out.”

She perks up. “That’s great. See? Now you’re thinking like a real organizer.”

I bite back the comment that a real organizer would be delighted to accept my money. I give her a tight smile instead.

A rusty old tow truck coughs its way down the street and her smile widens. “That’s Carl. We’re saved!”

Carl’s rig looks even less reliable than Bessie. But I don’t comment on that, either.

He does get me back to my Mercedes, which, mercifully, still has all four tires. The whole way there, however, and after I say goodbye and start home, my mind is occupied by one thing and one thing only.

Willow Harper.

CHAPTER 7

WILLOW

“Come on, girl, he’s not that handsome! And it’s not like you haven’t seen muscles before,” I admonish myself as I make the rounds in the new van later in the week. I can’t help but note that it rides like a dream, unlike the chihuahua-like trembling Bessie had added to her personality in the last couple of years. I also don’t worry about the transmission sticking or the refrigeration going down. Certainly, I have no concerns about the brakes, tires, or suspension. This van even has luxuries Bessie didn’t, like automatic windows.

Damien Langley has sure outdone himself. Zippy, the name I’ve given the new van, is even bigger than Bessie, allowing for a time that we might be packing even more meals. Who knows? I’d love it if Silver Hearts takes off to the point where we start serving the entire New York City area.

I only have the pleasure of driving today because, as it turns out, Chelsea, the volunteer who was supposed to be here, has an awful case of the flu. It’s not as though I can have her around my seniors, even if she was willing to come help out. Which she was, trooper that she is. She called me not anhour ago coughing and snotty saying she wanted to help. I told her, of course, the best way she can help is to rest up and get better.

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