I asked. “How are those even allowed anywhere? It’s a breeding ground for harassment and herpes.”
“If I wanted your opinion, Miss Buchanan, I would’ve asked for it.”
Tucker lifted his hand. "Excuse me, Miss Barton, but are you sure that's the best idea?” He looked at me. “Adding to what she said, because I happen to agree, I thought maybe I could just … do what my dad normally does."
"So you wanna sit there and write checks and generally be useless?" she asked. "Tucker, I've known you since you were in diapers. Of course, it's a good idea." Maxine pinned both of us with a look. "I'll go over financial goals for you next week. ‘Til then," she waved her hand in our direction, "you're both too young and too good looking for me to stare at all afternoon. Go brainstorm somewhere else."
I gave Tucker a helpless look, but he was pinching the bridge of his nose.
The only solace I found was in the fact that he clearly didn't want to work with me any more than I wanted to work with him.
Aunt Fran smiled weakly at me as I pushed my chair back and stood. Tucker did the same, moving as slow as a man taking a walk down death row.
My mind raced as I tried to match his long-legged stride. Maybe his mind was doing the same as he slowed to match my not-so-long-legged one.
Behind us, chatter began anew at the table, and beside me, I heard Tucker sigh.
I had two choices in this scenario, and I damn well knew that if my mother was standing next to me, she'd grab my face and refuse to let go until I could name one thing to be thankful for.
And right then, I was thankful that I could choose how to react now that we were away from judgy southern women eyes.
Choice number one: I could stew in this irrational dislike of Tucker Haywood and make the process as miserable as possible for both of us.
Choice number two: I could pull up my big girl panties and be a fucking professional, no matter what tingly thing his voice did to my insides.
My eyes closed as I took in a deep breath, and let it out through pursed lips.
"She's not serious, is she?" I asked.
He rubbed the back of his neck and paused while I walked out the door into the parking lot. Along the side of the building, there were benches, and I sank down on the closest one, stretching my legs out and dropping my head against the concrete bricks. Tucker lowered himself next to me.
"No wonder my dad sent me in his place," he said. "She's terrifying."
An unwilling smile tugged at the edges of my lips, but I turned my chin away so he wouldn't see it. From my front pocket, my phone rang with my brother's ringtone. "Hang on, I have to grab this really quick. It's my brother. "
Tucker nodded as I swiped my thumb across the screen.
"Dude," I said by way of a greeting, "I haven't heard from you in two days, where are you?"
"In the great state of Tennessee, thank you very much. Is the welcome mat all laid out for me?"
I smiled at how happy he sounded. We didn't have twin telepathy or anything, but it was undeniable how much his mood affected mine and vice versa. Just the tone of his voice, like I could see the sun breaking through the clouds from the force of his smile, lightened something down to my bones. "Close enough. But I got the garage apartment since your ass was coming later. You get the guest suite downstairs."
He hummed. "Fair enough. Wanna come meet me for a hike?"
I pulled a face. "You're hiking before you even stop to unpack?"
"Yes. Come meet me. I'm about twenty minutes away from Cooper Road Trail."
I glanced at Tucker. "Can't. I'm at a meeting thing … and I don't think Aunt Fran would want me absconding with her vehicle."
“Where’s your car?”
“At the shop. I’ll tell you later.”
Grady sighed. "Fine. Text me if you change your mind and I'll wait at the trailhead for you."
"Bye, loser."
"Love you too, Gracey B."
I was smiling when I ended the call, and Tucker wasn't even attempting to pretend like he wasn't listening.
"He driving in from California too?"
Choice number two, I reminded myself. We didn't have to best friends, but even if it killed me, I could be polite.
I could be polite, I thought with gritted teeth.
"Yeah. He