"Ideally something homemade, full of carbs and emotional significance. Though in your case, store-bought might be safer. Once the tags come off."
"Store-bought after the tags come off," he repeats, like I've explained quantum physics using finger puppets.
"It's an art form. Savvy's mom taught me. Pick up bakery cookies, ditch the packaging, and plate them. Or fancy cheese. The key is the illusion."
"This seems complex for a casual gathering."
"Welcome to small-town dynamics. Don't worry. I'll walk you through it. Think of it as cultural immersion therapy."
"Cultural immersion therapy," he echoes. I think there's actual amusement in his voice.
"By the end of Friday, you'll be ready to discuss weather and football better than half this town."
"Assuming I survive."
"Hey, I survived delivering a singing telegram dressed as a lobster once. You'll manage one potluck."
We stand there for a moment, separated by fabric and personality, but a quiet realization of shared curiosity weaves between us. Then my phone buzzes.
David
It's David. Proposal moved to TONIGHT. Need setup in 3 hours. HELP.
I calculate the logistics. Three hours to make magic. Ambitious, but that's my specialty.
"Problem?" Mason asks.
"Opportunity," I say. "Client moved up the proposal. I need to make it happen in three hours."
"That seems optimistic."
"Optimistic is my middle name. Well, it's Rose, but it should be optimistic."
I grab my notebook, sketching a timeline that would break project managers.
"Or," Mason says, "you could accept help."
I blink. "I'm sorry, what?"
"Help. An extra pair of hands. I'm familiar with deadlines and project management."
"You want to help me?"
"I want to ensure this doesn't result in injury or a headline. Also, it's the fastest way to learn town customs."
I stare at him.
"Okay. But you follow my lead, no matter how crazy."
"Define crazy."
"You'll know it when you see it." I hand him my supply list. "Welcome to Romance Logistics. Try to keep up."
For the first time, Mason Kincaid looks uncertain. I can't wait to show him how right he might be.
CHAPTER FOUR
MASON
