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“I can send a guy over to help.”
“Ha! You’re not trying to set me up again, are you?” The last thing I need is Killian to pull a fast one on me in my time of need. “I don’t want or need your help getting a date, Killian. I’m doing fine on my own.”
Just fine. As if.
I haven't had a date in forever. Even so, I'm not feeling charitable with my time right now. I'm on a deadline with a project to finish. My little troupe of budding stars is counting on me. Maybe then I'll dip my toe back into the dating pool. Then again, maybe I'll get lucky, and Connor will come down with a case of amnesia and forget about my overreaction.
Or I could suck it up and apologize like an adult. I will. As soon as Rachel comes through with his contact information.Ifhe wants me to have it.
“I’m not setting you up.” He blows out a heavy breath that statics in my ear. “Parker’s not too happy with me for talking her into pitching your name to Mayor Stanton as it is. I shouldn’t have butt in.”
My spider senses tingle like they always do when big brother sticks his nose in my business. Killian means well, but he can't help meddling. I need the help, though, and someone with an architecture background would come in handy with the stage sets.
“Fine. Send someone over to the community center after school. But if this is a trick, Parker’s wrath will be the least of your worries.” Niggling guilt overshadows my irritation with him. Maybe he’s finally learned his lesson. Either way, I need the help he’s offering. “Killian?”
“Yeah?” He sounds tired. Parker must have really laid into him.
“Thank you.”
I could carry a grudge, but if there’s one thing I'm always sure of on this spinning planet, my meddlesome brother's got my back.
***
Connor
Killian didn’t fill me in on the details of this assignment. All I know is it’s a personal favor, and the town of Cranberry Corner needs our expertise. I grab a pad and pencil for quick sketches and a measuring tape from the glove box.
The community center is the last place I want to revisit. It’s like returning to the scene of the crime. Only there’s no crime in playing by the rules. There’s no crime in empathy and compassion, either.
I enter through the side door, the same one I left through a week ago. The large open area is empty, save for a few boxes and Christmas decor scattered around the floor.
“Hello,” I call out into the quiet room. “Anyone here?”
Something scrapes across the wood flooring near the stage. The curtain at the back ripples, followed by a low, muffled moan. My ears perk to attention as my heart thuds quicker against my chest.
I scramble for the stage steps, taking them two at a time. A woman’s round ass breaks the fold of the curtain. Her knees bend low as she tugs on the cardboard flap of an oversized box.
“Can I help with that?” I move quickly across the stage.
The woman startles as she shoots upright and spins around. Her fiery red hair whips across her face, and she brushes it aside.
“Geez, Connor. You scared me to death.” Her breasts heave as she catches her breath. Her brows furrow, and I brace myself for what’s sure to be a tirade of ire. She slaps a hand across her chest, visibly shaken. “What are you doing here?”
“Killian McKay from Arcs & Angles Architecture sent me over. Said the city needed our help.”
She folds her hands over her chest and rolls her eyes. “I’m going to kill him.” She shakes her head. “Killian’s my brother, and this is his way ofnotbutting into my life.”
“I’m afraid I’m not following.” I’m even more confused now. I didn’t know Killian had a sister and wouldn’t have guessed it to be Ginger. Killian’s cocky and self-assured. There isn’t a nervous bone in his body.
Ginger taps the box with the toe of her shoe in exasperation. “I asked for his help. No games, no more trying to set me up on a blind date, no–” She stills, and her eyes widen as something dawns on her. “Was Friday night a setup? Did he send you to the singles mixer to meet me?”
She throws her hands up and starts mumbling. From the sound of it, Killian’s in for a world of hurt. But he didn’t set me up to meet her. Not really. Maybe in a roundabout way, but...
“Hold on a second. I’m as much in the dark as you are.”
She looks at me like a crotchety old librarian peering down her nose at unruly, loud teenagers.
I throw my hands up, ruffling the pages of my work-issued notebook. “Killian had a ticket to the holiday party because Parker donated gift certificates to the thing for charity. He gave it to me but said nothing about you. I didn’t know you existed before Friday.”
