me. “Do we have a deal?”
I get it. The grass is long enough that a toddler could get lost in it. The time has come. Ugh. I hate that Mr. Green Grass Police is right.
I scrounge around in my handbag until I hit pay dirt—a single crumpled-up dollar bill.
“Deal.” I give him the cash. “I’ll get to it this week.”
“So does Thursday work for you to meet with the attorney to discuss next steps and give background on that numbnut?” he asks.
“Sure. I hope they have a free afternoon. There’s a lot of background.”
“Don’t worry.” He places his hand on the small of my back. He doesn’t try to guide me away from the couch; it’s just the weight of his palm against me, like a transfer of power. “Don’t worry about a thing.”
“Like that’s possible.” The idea of it is so ridiculous, I start pacing from one wood-paneled wall to the other. “I’m barely able to afford the dumpster the HOA better approve, I owe a ton of back property taxes, I have to come up with more than $120,000 for the inheritance tax, and even if I shake the couch cushions in hopes of finding enough to cover home repairs, I still haven’t been able to find a job.” I wrap my arms around my middle and keep marching one way and then the other. “And why is that? Because I’ve spent my entire adult working life dedicated to making sure Karl’s practice became a success. I worked seventy-hour weeks for minimum wage because he said the practice needed the money more to continue to grow—but I have my doubts now.” I take a deep breath and look Nick square in the eyes. “Really, does it make sense to you that the firm would own our condo? It doesn’t, does it?” It’s like a series of lightbulbs is going off in my head, illuminating just how screwed I am. “Oh my God, what was I thinking?”
By the time I’m done, I’m out of breath, my hands are shaky, and I have a million more thoughts going a gazillion different directions. Nick? Not so much. There isn’t even a flicker of emotion or panic or freaking the fuck outness on his too-handsome-for-real-life face.
“So you need a job?” he asks. That’s what he wants to focus on? Not the fact that I’ve been such a child with my finances?
“Yeah, that would be a good start.”
He nods. “And you have experience as a law firm office manager?”
“Eleven years’ worth.” Working at not even close to my value. The frustration of it all has me pacing again, right back to the couch and next to Mr. Lotsa Plants.
“Give me until Thursday,” he says. “I think I have a lead on the job situation.”
Something unfamiliar and bubbly fills my chest. It’s been about a million years since I felt it, but the old-old Mallory, the teenage one who spent way too many nights staring at her canopy and dreaming of her future, recognizes it right away.
Hope.
“Why are you doing this?” I ask, wariness seeping in.
He pivots, the move bringing us face-to-face. Okay, more like my face to his top button—did I mention it’s undone?
“I like to help,” he says.
“Says who?” I scoff, trying to distract myself from the shadow of chest hair I can almost see. “Your mom?”
He hooks a finger under my chin and tilts my face upward. “Are you trying to imply that my mother would lie?”
“Maybe.” Not really. I don’t know. Wow, are his eyes gorgeous and intense and pulling me right in.
“At this moment, my mom is somewhere laughing her head off and she doesn’t know why.” He pauses, his gaze searching my face as if he’s trying to figure out why he can’t look away. “She’s gonna love you.”
“What, you want to introduce me to your mom? Does she have a grass obsession, too?” Oh yeah, immature jokes in the face of uncomfortable feelings. Classic Mallory.
God, inner me is such a bitch sometimes.
His thumb traces the line of my jaw. “You do love to give me a lot of crap for following the rules, don’t you?”
“I’ve committed the rest of my life to a no-bullshit-rules mantra.” I try to make it come out all cocky and confident, but even to my own ears, it’s all soft and breathy and take-me-now. “I’m the new Aunt Maggie.”
“Funny,” he says, taking a step forward and eliminating any space between us. “You don’t look a thing like her.”
“That’s a lie; we have