Chapter 23
Mia
One Week to go to the Fundraising Gala
I can’t eat, I can’t sleep, and I review this darn spreadsheet a hundred times every day. To say I’m stressing out over the fundraiser is an understatement.
“Good morning,” Otto says when he meets me at the bakery. Thankfully, the man has fully recovered from his concussion and he’s been a huge help over the past week.
I nod as he slides into a chair across from me. Not giving him a second glance, I stare at my laptop and ask, “Have you heard from the printer regarding the banner?” My knee jiggles, my voice sounds squeaky, and my hands shake as I try to type.
He chuckles as he reaches across the table and takes both my hands in his. “Mia, sweetie, you look a little stressed. How much coffee have you had this morning?” he asks.
I blow out a loud breath. “How can you tell?” I ask in a sarcastic tone.
Grinning, he says, “Well, let’s see. You’re wearing sweatpants and a T-shirt with a stain on the front. Your hair is falling out of your trademark bun. And your excess energy is shaking the whole table.”
My knee stalls and I glance down at the front of my shirt. Frosting from the chocolate breakfast cupcake I dropped made quite a stain. I swipe my finger through the remnants of the icing and lick it off.
He juts his chin towards my half-empty coffee cup and the carafe sitting on the table. I grab the mug and chug down the contents. Ugh! Cold coffee is not my favorite. When I reach for the carafe, Otto pulls it out of my reach.
“You either switch to decaf or water. Your choice,” he says in a firm voice.
Scowling, I reply, “That coffee is what’s keeping me going!”
Concern transforms his handsome face. He comes around the table and sits in the chair beside me. “Mia, this fundraiser isn’t worth ruining your health.”
“I know,” I mumble as I stare at my laptop screen, the words a blur.
Extending his hand, Otto slides the laptop towards himself and a glass of ice water towards me. “Okay, what’s left to be done on the list?” I relent to his bossiness, relieved to not have to stare at that doggone list another time. Taking a sip of the water, the coolness feels good to my parched throat. Maybe I did over caffeinate?
He reads for a couple seconds, then questions, “Green means it’s done, right? So, only the red ones still need to be completed?”
“That’s correct,” I say weakly, suddenly feeling a sugar crash coming on.
He glances at me. “Have you had anything other than sugar and coffee this morning?”
“No,” I squeak. I feel so weak, I’d love to lay my head on the table and go to sleep. Maybe he won’t notice if I do that.
“Stay here and don’t drink another cup of coffee,” Otto commands as he leaps to his feet. His bossiness is kind of sexy.
I yawn and rest my chin in my hand as I watch the hunky man stride over to the counter where Emma’s standing. Why does Otto have to be so good looking?
They have a conversation that I try to interpret from their hand gestures and the number of times they both look at me. A few seconds later, Otto leaves and Emma waltzes over to my table.
“Your boyfriend is going to get you some protein and I’m supposed to babysit you while he’s gone,” Emma says with a smirk.
“Let me guess. I’m not allowed any more caffeine or sugar,” I say in a snide tone.
Emma glides onto the chair across from me. “Otto is worried about you and so am I,” she says in a gentle tone. “You look terrible. When was the last time you got a good night’s sleep?”
“Sometime last week,” I admit with chagrin. “What if I miss an important item?!” My voice rises, making me sound whiny.
Emma just shakes her head, “Mia, you and Otto have done everything you can possibly do to make that fundraiser a success. Everyone knows all the effort you’ve put into it. Now you have to trust your planning and let all the people around you do their part. The caterer. The venue. The band. All of them. You hired them for a reason.”
She’s right. I need to relax and trust that everyone will do their part. If we have any hiccups, we’ll address them and fix them. It sounds so simple, but the control freak in me doesn’t want to let go.
“You’re right. Thanks for giving me some perspective,” I tell my friend with a watery smile. She grins and we chat for a few minutes about the new breakfast cupcake recipe that Bailey recently sent to Emma. I quietly sip my water while Emma gushes over the delicious concoction of caramel, chocolate, and peanut butter. It turns out Bailey is a genius with ingredients and those cupcakes are flying off the shelf. Blake has become a master at frosting, so Emma and I are no longer allowed to frost cupcakes. Fine by me.
Several minutes later, Otto bursts in looking so sexy, my heart skips a beat. He’s carrying a white paper sack, his hair looks windblown and he’s breathing heavily, as if he’s been running. He drops the bag in front of me and gives me one of his knee-weakening smiles. Emma gives him a thumbs up, then returns to the counter to resume her duties.
Otto retakes his seat at the table. “Eat that and you’ll feel better.” He jiggles the mouse to bring the spreadsheet back into focus on the screen.
When I open the sack, my stomach rumbles as the tantalizing aroma hits my nostrils. “An Egg McMuffin?”
“It’s the best I could do on short notice. The protein will help you get over that sugar crash,” he answers without taking his eyes off the computer.
My mouth waters with anticipation. I haven’t had one of these since I was a kid. When I pull back the wrapper, the egg, gooey cheese, and perfectly toasted English muffin look delightful. I dig in and close my eyes, savoring each bite.
Otto laughs. “I take it you’re enjoying the food?”
“Yes, thank you.” I eat like a starving person, polishing off the McMuffin in just a few seconds. Patting my full stomach, I lean back in my chair and relax. I peek at my companion as he types something into the spreadsheet, his long fingers flying over the keyboard. If it was anyone other than Otto, I’d grab the computer and insist that I’m the only one who can make updates. But I trust him implicitly. He looks so handsome, my heart flip-flops as I watch.
A man who knows his way around a spreadsheet? Swoon!
“That food really helped. I feel so much better,” I say with a contented sigh. “Thank you.”
“My pleasure,” he says, glancing up from the laptop screen. “You’re looking much better! The color is back in your cheeks, and you aren’t vibrating like a tuning fork.”
“Gee, thanks for the compliment,” I tease. “Do you mind if I go freshen up? I need to change this grungy T-shirt and fix my hair.”
His eyes lock with mine. “I didn’t mean to suggest you needed to change. That rumpled look is...rather...attractive.”
A giggle escapes. “The chocolate stain isn’t attractive, and my hair hasn’t been combed yet today.” I tip my lips into a frown. “I’m a mess.”
Otto laughs. “A highly organized mess.” He nods towards the screen. “I’ve added myself to the remaining red tasks. You go freshen up and we’ll go over this when you return. While you’re doing that, I’m going to get some banana breakfast cupcakes and coffee.”
We both jump up and he hauls me into his arms, then plants a quick, sloppy kiss on my lips. “Don’t forget. You’re my mess,” he says with a wink, then saunters off to place his order.
My heart flutters. When did I fall in love with Otto Stagmeier?
~*~
I’ve been gazing at my companion with a dreamy expression ever since I returned from the restroom, watching his strong forearms flex as he types. When did forearms become so sexy?
It occurs to me that I horribly misjudged him the first time he tried to ask me out. I didn’t know that I needed someone in my life like him to keep me balanced from taking myself too seriously, studying all the time, and not having any fun. The man is smart, witty, and funny. This fundraising project has been a blessing. Not the misfortune I initially thought it was.
“Earth to Mia,” he says, waving a hand in front of my face.
“What?” My neck heats with embarrassment over my Otto-induced daze.
He arches an eyebrow. “Have you been listening?”
“Maybe?” I’m feeling so much better with my clean shirt, combed hair, and protein in my belly. But I can’t seem to focus on anything other than the sexy guy sitting across from me.
He chuckles. “Are we confirmed that the deans will act as emcees?”
Sitting up straighter in my seat, I force my brain to focus back on fundraiser details. “Yes, I got an email from each of them confirming. They want us to announce the silent auction winners. Did I mention that?”
“You did,” he says as he nods and types.
“I’m not a very good public speaker. But if we only have to announce the winner’s names and hand out the auction items, I can probably handle that.”
His fingers pause and he stares at me for a couple beats. “What fun is that? We’ve got to come up with something more engaging!”
I snort. “Like what?”
“Um, let me think.” He grabs his third breakfast cupcake and starts to chew. Funny how a big guy like him can consume sugar and caffeine all morning and it doesn’t impact him at all. At least he’s not showing any ill-effects.
He chews, alternating each bite with a sip of coffee. I sip on my water and keep quiet while his creative genius is at work. I know he’ll come up with something inventive. Whether I’ll want to participate is another matter.
“I’ve got it!” he says after the only remains of the cupcake are a few crumbs. “Since our theme is We All Play, let’s pretend they’ve won some cheap toy, then bring out the real silent auction prize.”
His idea has merit, so I jump into brainstorming ideas. “We could purchase toys from that cheap, discount store just off campus. They have all kinds of stuff that would be perfect.”
Otto laughs and teases, “Mia Robinson, do you frequent Dave’s Discount Mart?”
“I’ve been there on occasion,” I reply in a snooty tone, causing him to laugh even harder. I’m not going to mention that I go there every change of season looking for those flashy, kitschy seasonal decorations they sell, like a dancing pumpkin, or a violin playing turkey, or an elf riding in a spaceship.
“Great! I can’t wait for you to initiate me into the Dave’s Discount Mart experience.”
I toss him a glare. “Update the spreadsheet. We’ll go there tomorrow,” I say, hoping to quell his laughter. A few seconds later my phone pings with a notification. “What’s that?”
“An invite to visit Dave’s Discount Mart tomorrow at 3pm. I wanted to make sure it got on your busy schedule,” he replies with a wink.
Swiping my phone, I accept the invitation and read the details. “It says cheap toys, burgers, fries, and milkshakes. You know they don’t sell that kind of food at Dave’s, right?”
“Ah, but Ralph’s Burgers is just around the corner,” he says with a smirk.
My eyes narrow. “You big goof! You’ve been to the discount mart before, haven’t you?”
“Maybe?”
We both laugh.