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“You lucky son of a gun.” I blow a raspberry and scrunch up my face. “Well, you didn’t have the good fortune of volunteering at the exact moment that somebody decided to cause a scandal and get ousted.”
“I heard about Carl and Amanda,” Jay says. “That’s pretty heartless, taking the money meant for the kids for all their quote, unquote overhead.”
I shake my head. “It is. I guess Aria and I happened to be at the wrong place at the wrong time.”
Knowles laughs. “I do not envy you. But it’s only for a few more weeks. Come Christmas Eve, the festival’s all over.”
Why does that thought make me miss Aria already? What is that all about? She doesn’t like me and has a boyfriend. There’s no need to wish for things that aren’t going to happen.
Outside and down below, I hear a screech of metal on metal. Knowles cringes. “What’s going on out there?”
I yank the strings on the blinds covering the window, and smile at the scene below.
It’s Aria. And it looks like she needs a rescuer.
I’m more than happy to oblige.
Chapter 12
Aria
My two-drawer, metal filing cabinet, the one that holds my graphic design dream board items, decides to pitch a fit right as I’m easing it onto the dolly I’ve borrowed from my neighbor. It topples forward, screeches its front down the tailgate of my dad’s truck, and lands upside down with a lightning crack onto the pavement.
I don’t exactly know what to do about this, except for stare up at the white, snowy sky, take a deep breath, and hope I can hoist it up enough to get it properly situated on the dolly.
Yes, I had several offers for help with my move. Camilla and Jesse both offered, as well as my brothers, and my dad. But none of them could help until at least six p.m., and I wanted to get a move on.
I laugh at the little pun I’d made in my mind. Get a move on while I’m moving? Clever!
Any way you slice it, I should have waited, as is evidenced by my sorry stack of images and cut outs from the cabinet scattered all over the ground. But when it’s time to get the thing done, I just want to get the thing done.
Grandpa’s flying in from Boca Raton late tonight, and I wanted to have everything out of the room and cleaned up for him. I can’t wait to give him a hug.
But moving’s already exhausting. I frown at my filing cabinet. I totally should have waited for some help.
I manage to gather up the items that landed in the snow and close the drawer back up. Then, I brush off the snow that’s dusted the top of a box in the back of the truck. I heft the box into my arms, rotate to face the employee entrance of Shorty’s and run smack into a tall, dark, handsome . . . Theo?
“Whoa.” He grasps the box to steady it. “Hey moving buddy! I moved in today, too.” His grin is wide.
“Moving buddy?” I blow a puff of air up to try to move the lock of hair that’s escaped from my headwrap and fallen over my face. It doesn’t work.
“Here, allow me.”
He’s adopted his horribly bad British accent again and even dropped theHsound altogether. This time, a laugh rushes out of me.
“I’ve got it. But I’d love some help with the filing cabinet.” I motion towards it with my head as I try to step past him.
He blocks my progress. “Gladly,” he says, then reaches a hand up to my face. “Except first, this . . .” He takes the lock of hair in my eyes and gently brings it around so that it’s pinned out of my way. “There. Now there’s not so much of a hazard going on.”
I feel exposed, vulnerable, my skin still warm where his fingers brushed against it. “Thanks,” I say, my gaze catching his. In the brisk November air, his eyes are bright blue.
I’ve never noticed how vivid they are. It must have something to do with the light today.
He jogs to open the back door of Shorty’s for me. Once he’s sure I can safely tackle the steep, narrow flight of stairs directly off the door, I hear his footfalls crunch in the snow behind me as he jogs back to my dad’s truck.
I manage the steps okay and sigh with relief as I see that Camilla’s propped the apartment door open for me at the landing. Easing my way through the door with the big box blocking most of my vision, I enter the small kitchen. I set the box down on the table, which is a solid, deep cherry wood.
I take a moment to still my breathing and the thought occurs to me that seeing Theo so suddenly might have caused more of a breathing issue than carrying the box up the stairs.
