Chapter 7
charity
Human – Rag ‘n’ Bone Man
The next morning, as sunlight poured through my office window, warming the room and my mood, I thought back to my construction site encounter with Liam.
It kept distracting me when I should have been deciding on some sample fabric swatches to show Tally—sapphire blue with rose gold accents and winter whites would look stunning for a winter wedding.
As it didn’t have a hundred percent of my attention, I pushed it to one side and replayed that moment when Liam almost smiled. When I’d called him my responsibility and he’d looked at me like I was someone worth paying attention to instead of someone to avoid.
My phone buzzed with a text.
Liam
Can we meet today about the dinner? Things are slow here right now so it would be a good time before things start to ramp up again
I stared at the message, surprised. After years of dodging responsibility, now he was being proactive.
Charity
My office at 2? I have everything ready.
Liam
See you then.
By 1:45 I was straightening papers that didn’t need straightening and checking my reflection. Not because it mattered, but because it was business. Or maybe, just maybe, something had shifted between us.
At 2:30, I heard his knock. Through the frosted glass, I could see the familiar silhouette, shoulders tensed with stress.
“Hey,” he said when I opened the door, hands were shoved into his pockets. “Sorry I’m late, it’s been a bit of a morning. Had to deal with insurance adjusters and then the hotel owner showed up wanting answers I don’t have.”
“Sounds like fun.” I stepped aside to let him in. “Coffee? You look like you need it.”
“That obvious?” He managed a tired smile. “Yeah, coffee would be great.”
The scent of sawdust drifted in with him, along with the faint buzz of conversation from the main office as Liam surveyed the room. He headed for my desk initially, then seemed to think better of it and chose the more comfortable couch instead.
“Smart choice,” I said. “Might as well be comfortable for this.” I moved to the coffee machine. “Let me guess, black?”
“Erm, yeah, that’s right and two sugars please.”
Silence fell as I took a mug and filled it with coffee.
“How bad is it?” He accepted the steaming liquid I offered, and our fingers brushed, but this time neither of us pulled away immediately. “How much have I actually let myself in for?”
“Honestly? Mostly it seems to be done. I just need your input on a few key decisions.” I settled into the chair across from him with my folder. “This really could be a welcome distraction from your week.”
He leaned back, looking more relaxed than I’d seen him and heaved out a sigh. “God, I hope so. So, hit me with it.”
I handed him the planning folder, watching as he flipped through with what seemed like genuine interest. When he stopped at the catering page, I held my breath.
When he put the paper to one side and flicked back through the papers he’d already gone through, my hands clenched into fists on my thighs.
I cleared my throat. “Something wrong?”
Green eyes looked up at me through dark lashes as his nostrils flared. “Could say that.” His voice was tight as two fingers pushed the piece of paper back my way. “An outside caterer when we have a restaurateur and a café owner in the cooperative. What’s the thinking there?”
I felt my cheeks warm as I watched his chest heave slowly as he waited for my response. “My thinking is that I need a reliable, professional service for over one hundred people.”
“And? Why not use Wyatt and Zoe?” He picked up the folder and waved it around before dropping it back down. “Diamond Catering is known for being overpriced and actually,” he took a deep breath, “not even that good. And, like I said, not local.”
I was surprised by how much he’d absorbed in the few minutes he’d taken reading through the information. Surprised and more than a little pissed.
“Well, you weren’t exactly around to help me pick someone better,” I stated, crossing my arms, mainly to stop myself from reaching out for the folder and throwing it at him. “And for your information both Wyatt and Zoe declined when I asked. Neither felt they had the capacity to do it justice.”
If I expected him to blush with his own shame at his assumption then I was mistaken. He simply shook his head, looking down his nose with the tiny bump on the bridge that made him look kind of dangerous.
“So instead, you went for the most expensive out of town alternative?”
My mouth opened and closed, my excuse melting like sugar on the tip of my tongue. I had none. He was right, I hadn’t researched alternatives. I’d been busy organizing events that were actual paid gigs that meant I wasn’t homeless or hungry.
“They seemed like the most reliable option that I could find on short notice, seeing as you’ve been avoiding my calls,” I snapped, trying unsuccessfully to hide my irritation.
Taking a breath, Liam leaned forward and tapped on the folder.
“Talk to my friend Vito Carlucci who owns Lawn Green. His sister Sophia has a catering business. Their dad runs a restaurant in Clementine Hills, and she uses locally grown produce and any meat is raised organically. Any problems getting in touch with her let me know, I can shoot over to the house and color wise I think we should avoid green and gold.”
“Why?” I rolled my eyes.
“Because I know Benny Champion is sponsoring the event, and he hates green since his wife left him for a guy she met during a girls’ weekend in Chicago. He was from Ireland.”
“How the hell do you know that, and I don’t?”
“He’s an old friend of my dad’s. Plus, he asked Vito to rip up his lawn because it was, in his words, ‘too damn Irish green’.”
Silently seething, because he was probably correct, I asked. “Anything else?”
“The entertainment?” He raised a skeptical brow.
“They’re a great band.”
“A DJ would be fine. This isn’t a wedding, Charity. It’s a dinner where people need to talk to each other.” He tossed the folder back onto the coffee table and stood abruptly. “Don’t forget about the catering.”
“I won’t. I’ll call Sophia tomorrow.”
He was already moving toward the door. “Any problems getting in touch with her let me know. And don’t forget about the color scheme.”
“Wait, what about the—”
But he was already pulling down the door handle. “I’ll call you about any other details I think we should change.”
The door closed behind him with a decisive click, leaving me staring at the contents of the folder scattered on my coffee table, wondering if I’d just been helped, or completely dismissed.