Chapter 5
Otto
I’ve Got Nothing
“Practice ran over,” I say, gulping several lungfuls of air, as I plop down in a chair across from Mia. She’s sporting her usual half-scowl. I expect her to call me out on my lateness, but she doesn’t. Although she’s not wearing her usual fussy suit, every hair is in place, with nothing untucked or mussed. She makes me feel like an unkempt teenager who’s been called into the principal’s office.
“I see,” she replies in a prim, all-business, no time for chit-chat tone. Her eyes snap to her laptop for a few seconds before she speaks again. “Shall we get started?”
Before I can answer, my stomach decides to remind me that I’m starving by emitting a loud growl. Mia’s eyes look up from her laptop, so I know she heard the sound. Her infuriating tone as well as her all business attitude, causes the bad boy inside me to come to life. Time to ruffle some feathers. Spying the half-eaten muffin sitting in front of her, I reach across the table, swipe the muffin, and take a big bite.
“This is tasty!” I say between bites as her scowl deepens with each bite. My muddled brain finally registers that eating her muffin without permission was a huge mistake. One that she’s taking as a personal affront. Oops! “Is this a banana muffin?” I ask lamely.
Pursing her lips, Mia fires back, “It’s a banana breakfast cupcake, ” as she points to a sign at the front of the bakery. “Emma specializes in cupcakes .” Her slow enunciation of the word cupcake gets under my skin, but I shrug it off. She thinks I’m an idiot and the only thing that will change her mind is if I deliver on all those blasted tasks in her spreadsheet.
Jumping to my feet, I waltz over to the bakery case.
“Where are you going?” Mia squeaks, but I ignore her.
“How may I help you?” a cute twenty something asks in a flirty voice.
Giving her my high wattage smile, I say, “I’d like three of your banana breakfast cupcakes, if you have any left.”
She giggles, the sound floating across the entire bakery, just as I intended. “Certainly!” she chirps, while carefully pulling out three cakes from the case using a pair of tongs. “Anything else?” she asks as she slides the plate towards me.
“May I borrow your tongs for a few seconds?”
Her brows draw together quizzically for a moment as she ponders my request. Without saying a word, she hands the tongs to me, then rings me up. I pay and march back over to Mia, who’s been watching my every move while trying to appear as if she’s ignoring me.
I set the plate with the cupcakes on the table with a loud thump! Using the tongs, I snag a cupcake and deposit it on her plate.
“Replacement banana breakfast cupcake , not touched by human hands, Your Majesty,” I say as she glares at me. After I return the tongs to the bakery gal with another playful wink which she returns with another giggle, I resettle in my chair. “Shall we finally get started?”
Mia looks like she just ate a stalk of rhubarb, her scowl firmly in place. “I’m not the one causing a delay by flirting.”
I shrug. “I can’t help it if my good looks attract women like flies to honey,” I shoot back.
Her glare could peel paint. Mia takes a moment to compose herself and clears her throat. “I believe we’re here to brainstorm themes for the gala. Let’s each throw out three suggestions and we’ll debate them. That’s always a good way to narrow down the choices.”
Her superior attitude rankles, but I choose to pretend to be agreeable to her proposal. If I make a stink, we’ll be debating process for the next thirty minutes, rather than brainstorming themes. “Ladies first,” I reply.
She squirms in her seat. “I want to preface by saying that I didn’t have any time for extensive research, but here’s what I’ve come up with.” Sucking in a noticeable breath, Mia says, “Black Tie Benefit for Arcadia’s first Inclusive Park.” I blink. “Evening of Elegance for Arcadia’s first Inclusive Park.” I resist the urge to roll my eyes. “Grand Patron’s Dinner for Arcadia’s first Inclusive Park.” She bites her bottom lip, giving me an expectant look.
“That’s all you’ve got?” I say, dispensing with any tactfulness or effort to not hurt her feelings.
Her face falls. “They’re terrible, aren’t they?”
“To be honest, Mia. Those are boring as all get out.”
Staring at the tabletop, she mumbles, “I know.”
Leaning forward, I say, “We need something that will inspire and excite people to attend. I’m not sure those themes would attract anyone under seventy.”
A small smile tips her lips. “Okay. What ideas have you come up with?”
It’s my turn to squirm in my seat. To be honest, I haven’t come up with anything spectacular either. Pulling a few themes out of my hat, I say, “How about Disco for the Kiddos?” She frowns. “I thought the rhyme was rather clever.” Her frown grows. “Okay...How about Extravaganza for a Park?” When her expression doesn’t change, I plow on. “A Ball so Kids can have a Ball.” I give her a squinty-eye stare and enthuse my tone with positivity, “I kind-of like that one!” Her nose wrinkles. Each of my clunkers hang in the air as if I’ve accidentally passed gas. Losing steam, I swipe a cupcake from my plate, take a huge bite and chew for all I’m worth.
A chuckle slips out of Mia’s lips. She puts her hand over her mouth, but her shoulders shake with suppressed laughter. My heart squeezes. She’s really pretty when she lets loose and laughs. Her eyes crinkle at the corners and I suddenly want to kiss the smirk off those luscious red lips.
“They’re bad, aren’t they?”
“Coming from a creative genius like you. Yes!” she cackles.
I grin and we both chuckle for several seconds. Tapping my finger on the table, I say, “Obviously, what we need is some inspiration.”
“Brilliant suggestion, Captain Obvious,” she says in a sarcastic, yet teasing tone.
Silence falls between us. We both take bites of our cupcakes as we ponder how we’re going to find inspiration. “We could visit an existing inclusive park,” I suggest.
Her expression brightens. “Good suggestion. How close is the nearest one?”
“Two hundred miles.”
Her jaw drops. “That far? Do you have time in your schedule for a trip like that?”
“Sadly, no,” I reply, knowing that between hockey practice, our upcoming exhibition games, and keeping up my grades, I have no time to spare.
A noise across the bakery draws both our attention, I swivel my eyes while Mia rotates in her seat. We were so absorbed in our inept brainstorming that we didn’t notice this pair come in.
“I wanna go to the park!” the little girl whines, her shrill voice echoing over to our table.
The woman, presumably her mother, pats the girl’s hand. “I know sweetie, but I can’t take you.”
Tears stream down the tiny girl’s face and I expect a tantrum, but she pouts silently.
“How about another cupcake?” her mom suggests brightly. She stands and heads over to the bakery case.
Mia pops up from her seat and follows the woman. At first, I wonder what my project co-lead is up to, but it soon becomes clear. Mia and the little girl’s mom have an animated conversation in front of the check-out counter. Both women use their hands, so there’s a lot of gesturing, nodding, and eventually a few smiles. I wish I could overhear what they’re saying, but they’re too far away. If Mia is thinking what I’m thinking, it’s a brilliant idea.