“The work I’d need help with isn’t glamorous,” she finally said, her voice shifting into the tone she used in professional settings—measured, clear, a little bit too intense. “It’s data entry, filing, scheduling coordination, permit tracking, following up on municipal deadlines, managing correspondence with subcontractors and vendors. It requires extreme attention to detail and zero tolerance for disorganization and the ability to bow deeply to Pippin Lake Development Group.”
“I can bow.” Connor leaned forward, one hand across his waist, bowing like a duke being introduced to the king. Laughing, he straightened. “I can also track, file, manage, schedule, follow up, and make a mean cup of coffee. I’m sure you’ll be easy to work for.”
Eli chuckled. Jonah laughed out loud. Even Peter cracked a smile.
Meredith narrowed her eyes, but something tugged at the corner of her mouth. “Okay, fine. I admit, I don’t…watch the clock.”
“What clock?” Connor half-smiled, easy and quick, and it did something to the air in the kitchen that Meredith chose to ignore entirely. “Look, I’m serious. I need something productive to do. You need someone who can keep up with you. I’ll be your girl Friday.”
“My…what?”
Peter snorted. “See? He needs to work. In his spare time, he’s watching black-and-white movies from the forties. Sorry, but I think only Maggie and Jo Ellen know what a ‘girl Friday’ is, Con.”
Meredith looked from one to the other, lost on the Friday stuff.
The practical part of her brain—which was, admittedly,mostof her brain—ran the calculation. He met basic qualifications and could start immediately, filling in until she found someone suitable.
The less practical part of her brain noted, unhelpfully, that he had nice hands. Well. Hand. The one that wasn’t in a cast.
Stop it.
“Can you type?” she asked.
Connor held up his left hand and wiggled his fingers. “I’m getting surprisingly good at hunt-and-peck with my non-dominant hand. And I’m starting hand therapy this week—which I can do early, before work starts—because if I can’t use both, I don’t have a future.”
There was just enough defeat in his voice that her heart shifted a little. How would she feel if, after all her schooling, she physically couldn’t do the job of an architect? It would hurt. It would make her feel…useless.
He leaned forward slightly, and his expression changed from playful to genuine. “Meredith. I’m not joking. I need to do something or I’ll go crazy.”
Yes. She completely understood that.
Eli caught her eye from across the table and gave her a small, encouraging nod. And honestly, Dad was never wrong.
“Okay,” she said. “Can you help me open up the office on Monday?”
His face broke into a grin. A real one, not the half-smile he’d been deploying, but one that made him look kind and open and…and…
Oh,man. Did he have to be socute?
Well, she really didn’t have time to interview a string of losers. And Connor was right there in front of her.
“Monday at eight a.m.,” she said. “Not eight-oh-five. Not eight-fifteen. Eight.” She pointed a finger at him. “And if you lose a permit application or misfile a single contract, I’m firing you. Immediately. Without remorse.”
“See?” Jonah joked. “So warm and nurturing.”
“I feel welcome already,” Connor said with a wry smile.
“He’s hired?” Peter said, looking between them with poorly concealed delight. “Really?”
“On a trial basis,” Meredith clarified. “Temporary. Through the initial project setup phase, and we’ll see how it goes.”
“Temporary works,” Connor said. “Temporary is all I have to offer.”
Jonah slid a plate of something across the counter toward Connor—a sample of whatever he’d been sautéing. “Congratulations on your new career in architecture administration. You have no idea what you just signed up for.”
“How bad can it be?”
Jonah just gave him a look that once would have made her stick her tongue out at him.
