but think about Carter Blackwood and his smug face when he asked me about those damned fingerlings. Who screws up the word fingerlings? Me, that’s who, but only if I’m standing face to face with adorable looking, half-charming, half-infuriating temporary neighbor who flips houses to make a quick buck for a living. Apparently. And he had some nerve acting all nice and neighborly after avoiding me yesterday.
I push his distracting smile right out of my mind and get going before I have to call someone to delay the meeting, which would not go over very well seeing as I’m the one who called for it. Without another thought, I’m out the door. Everything is tucked away safely in the back seat when I text Ally to make sure she’s safe and sound somewhere. I let her know I’ll be home by nine. I make a special effort not to speed and get another ticket on the way. Because of this, I’m definitely late to the meeting, which is roughly, fifteen minutes early for me, which isn’t technically late but for me, it is.
The situation wouldn’t be that bad, honestly, except for the fact that as Candice Morgan calls the meeting to order a few minutes early, and introduces the bidders for working our carnival next weekend, which we don’t need, I see none other than Carter Blackwood staring at me from the back of the room. When he struts up to the table and stops right in front of me, handing over the bid I had no idea he even knew about, I admit I’m speechless. Tack on the fact that everyone in this room, even the other bidders, seem to be caught up in this guy’s charm and gracious attitude front, and I’m officially having the worst day ever.
“Candice,” I start, after much ado about Carter’s helpfulness over at the fairgrounds the other day. “We still have the children’s playground to think about later on this year.”
She gives me a blank stare accompanied by her fake smile, telling me she doesn’t even look at the reports I turn in every other month.
“In December? We were going to surprise the Lakewood community with a playground because they can’t seem to raise the funds on their own?”
“Oh.” She laughs. “Right, right, right.” Then she shrugs and waves her hand at the air. “Well, they didn’t know about it anyway, we can always do that next year.”
And I am at a loss for words. No, scratch that. I am not at a loss for words, I’m at a loss for respect. “You’re serious?”
“Really, Iris, don’t make this such a big deal.”
I scan all three bids we received tonight, including Carter’s.
“He’s a hundred and fifty dollars over the other two bids.”
“He’s got great references,” she says but I know what’s going on here. We all know what’s going on here.
“He’s got a great ass you mean,” I tell her before I can think about what I’m saying. My intention was to call her out but now that it’s out there, I’m thinking I just called myself out. Which wouldn’t be so bad, except, he’s standing there with his great ass, in the back of the room, watching me as I go all ape-shit on Candice.
I want to reel the words back in like they’re a fish at sea, unable to escape my hook and line. I want to hit the rewind button on everyone’s brain right now. I want to die.
Really, really badly.
But I can’t. And now everyone in this room knows I think Carter Blackwood’s rear end is divine. Including Carter Blackwood.
Crap.
Laughter emerges, Candice begins her rebuttal and the entire board gets fidgety about what say next when out of nowhere, Carter’s hand goes up.
“Actually,” he says. “She’s got a point.”
I won’t lie. I’m stunned. Is he saying I have a point about the money, or his ass?
I narrow my eyes at him. If he is talking about the money, there’s got to be a catch here.
“I’m sorry, Carter, did you say something?”
I’m concentrating hard as I glare over at Candice; trying to ensure she gets the telepathic message I’m sending
I push his distracting smile right out of my mind and get going before I have to call someone to delay the meeting, which would not go over very well seeing as I’m the one who called for it. Without another thought, I’m out the door. Everything is tucked away safely in the back seat when I text Ally to make sure she’s safe and sound somewhere. I let her know I’ll be home by nine. I make a special effort not to speed and get another ticket on the way. Because of this, I’m definitely late to the meeting, which is roughly, fifteen minutes early for me, which isn’t technically late but for me, it is.
The situation wouldn’t be that bad, honestly, except for the fact that as Candice Morgan calls the meeting to order a few minutes early, and introduces the bidders for working our carnival next weekend, which we don’t need, I see none other than Carter Blackwood staring at me from the back of the room. When he struts up to the table and stops right in front of me, handing over the bid I had no idea he even knew about, I admit I’m speechless. Tack on the fact that everyone in this room, even the other bidders, seem to be caught up in this guy’s charm and gracious attitude front, and I’m officially having the worst day ever.
“Candice,” I start, after much ado about Carter’s helpfulness over at the fairgrounds the other day. “We still have the children’s playground to think about later on this year.”
She gives me a blank stare accompanied by her fake smile, telling me she doesn’t even look at the reports I turn in every other month.
“In December? We were going to surprise the Lakewood community with a playground because they can’t seem to raise the funds on their own?”
“Oh.” She laughs. “Right, right, right.” Then she shrugs and waves her hand at the air. “Well, they didn’t know about it anyway, we can always do that next year.”
And I am at a loss for words. No, scratch that. I am not at a loss for words, I’m at a loss for respect. “You’re serious?”
“Really, Iris, don’t make this such a big deal.”
I scan all three bids we received tonight, including Carter’s.
“He’s a hundred and fifty dollars over the other two bids.”
“He’s got great references,” she says but I know what’s going on here. We all know what’s going on here.
“He’s got a great ass you mean,” I tell her before I can think about what I’m saying. My intention was to call her out but now that it’s out there, I’m thinking I just called myself out. Which wouldn’t be so bad, except, he’s standing there with his great ass, in the back of the room, watching me as I go all ape-shit on Candice.
I want to reel the words back in like they’re a fish at sea, unable to escape my hook and line. I want to hit the rewind button on everyone’s brain right now. I want to die.
Really, really badly.
But I can’t. And now everyone in this room knows I think Carter Blackwood’s rear end is divine. Including Carter Blackwood.
Crap.
Laughter emerges, Candice begins her rebuttal and the entire board gets fidgety about what say next when out of nowhere, Carter’s hand goes up.
“Actually,” he says. “She’s got a point.”
I won’t lie. I’m stunned. Is he saying I have a point about the money, or his ass?
I narrow my eyes at him. If he is talking about the money, there’s got to be a catch here.
“I’m sorry, Carter, did you say something?”
I’m concentrating hard as I glare over at Candice; trying to ensure she gets the telepathic message I’m sending
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