Give a Little

by Lee Kilraine

  “Yes,” I said, picturing Gray’s face at the end of our last two meetings. His angry face. “Not a good method for me.”

  “I’ll have to confide in you some personal information and secret techniques, but I think under the circumstances, I need to tell you.”

  “Gigi, I already know about Mr. McHale, your special friend after Grandpa Renaldo passed away. And Mr. Baker. And Mr. Johnson. And—”

  Gigi placed her hand over mine. “I’ve had a lot of special friends, you cheeky girl, once I decided burying three husbands was my limit.”

  That couldn’t have been easy. “I’ve always admired how open you are to love, Gigi. It’s been a beautiful example to grow up with. That and watching mom and dad, too. That was a love for the ages.” I closed my eyes, letting myself feel the pain pressing down on my heart.

  “Life has its own schedule, Tessa.” Gigi’s soft hand cupped my cheek, turning my face to hers. “That’s why I’m so excited Laura called in your S.O.S., sweetheart. Now let’s get to work.”

  “What man-wrangling techniques do you have?” Laura asked.

  “Oh, when I went undercover for the department—”

  “Wait, what? I thought you worked as a secretary in the police department.” I hadn’t ever seen her in a police uniform, but I guess that’s what the whole undercover part meant.

  “You couldn’t pay me to be stuck behind a desk.” Gigi looked alarmed at the idea. “Plus I’m a much better marksman than I am a typist. Although I also worked with the K-9 unit for five years.”

  “Actually, this isn’t surprising,” I said, tilting my head and taking in all that was Gigi. “Not for you.”

  “I’ll take that as a compliment.”

  “That’s how I meant it. I always knew you were a kick-ass woman, but you actually kicked ass. Very cool.”

  “I’ve infiltrated inner city gangs and the Russian mafia. I’ve been a pole dancer to expose a sex smuggling ring and a librarian during a sting to stop drugs getting into high schools. I have a lot of tricks up my sleeve.”

  “Wow, can I learn too?” Laura asked, blinking across at my grandma, her new hero. “I’ve seen photos of your husbands. If I could land just one like them, I’d be a happy woman.”

  “Absolutely. I don’t mean to brag. My point is, I’ve got plenty of experience reeling men in.” Gigi pulled a well-worn leather-bound notebook from her purse and began leafing through the pages. “What should we start with? A sexy vamp? No, too obvious. Olga the mysterious Russian? No, too cliché. Oh, how about an exotic belly dancer?”

  Laura looked enthused about that one.

  I tried to imagine how that would work. “I don’t see how I’d work belly dancing in naturally to a conversation during a house renovation.”

  “True.” She nodded and went back to her book. “Hmm. Okay, then we’ll start with the standard, foolproof method.” Gigi ripped a page from her notebook out and handed it across to me. “Here you go. This method works every time. I even used this on your grandpa.”

  “Foolproof sounds like exactly what I need. I made a mess of our last meeting.” I looked at Gigi’s list… “Wait. I think you gave me the wrong list.”

  “No, I didn’t.”

  “Seriously, I think you did.” I read a few aloud from the list. “One: When you find a beast in the wild, do not make eye contact. Two: Ignore him until you’ve piqued his interest. Three: Gain his attention. A loud noise, or even a firm voice will work. Four: Be the Alpha.”

  Laura snickered beside me.

  I glanced back up at my grandma. “Gigi, this sounds like a list for training a dog.”

  “It works.” She shrugged. “They called me the Man Whisperer on the force. If a source needed to be worked, I was the go-to undercover cop for the job.”

  “Gosh, I don’t know…” I looked over the list again. This just didn’t seem right. Or sane.

  “Like I said before, my recommendation is to simply be yourself,” Gigi said, and then added a shrug. “But I can guarantee this technique gets results for the tough cases. Trust me, this is a lot more subtle than the pole dancing or the sexy vamp.”

  “Guarantee? Wait. Before you issue me guarantees, I should probably confess how badly my first meeting with Gray went.”

  Laura put her hand up like a stop sign. “Let me guess… Awkward Tessa showed up.”

  “She did. And she wouldn’t shut up. I can’t even count the number of times she pissed him off.” Okay, I could. Seven. Seven times. It had gone downhill fast after discovering my grandma’s Viagra supply. “So I think I need a backup plan to the Man Whisperer plan.”

  “Getting a man angry isn’t necessarily a bad thing, Tessa.” Gigi’s lips slid into a wicked grin. “It’s a great way to get his attention. You know that expression love and hate are two sides of the same coin.”

  “I don’t know.” I shook my head, thinking they didn’t understand the level of anger I’d managed to achieve in my conversation with Gray. The part about the six vs. five brothers had him in a hot simmer. “You didn’t see his face.”

  “Sadly no,” Laura said. “Gigi, this man is to die for.”

  “I recall Tessa’s fiancé Paul was no slouch in the looks department either.”

  “Former fiancé,” I said, needing that distinction.

  “Not even close,” Laura said. “Take Paul’s looks. Now take them to the tenth power. Now dip him in the best dark chocolate you’ve ever tasted and roll him in toasted almonds and coconut.”

  “Picture, or I won’t believe you.” Gigi stirred a packet of sugar into her coffee cup. “I’m assuming he’s intelligent, and nice, as in kind to children and animals, and treats women with respect. Otherwise, I’d be surprised this is your soul mate, Tessa.”

  “Whoa, wait, Gigi. I never said he was my soul mate.” I’d have remembered if I had. “No, my attraction to Gray started as just that—attraction. Then he was going to be my comparison kiss to offset Paul. My flu shot against a case of the Paul flu. Then he moved up to relationship material when I felt a connection between us. When my inner voice wouldn’t shut up—oh, heck. My inner voice.”

  “Exactly, darling. That’s how it works with Madigan women. What did it say?” Gigi sat back, waiting.

  “The first time I met him it said, ‘Pay attention.’ The second time we met it said, ‘This one.’ And yesterday, when he grabbed me in his arms to save me from falling, the voice whispered, ‘Finally home.’”

  “Oh. My. God. That is so romantic.” Laura had tears in her eyes.

  “That is romantic. When I met your grandfather my voice said, ‘Bag him and tag him.’ I believe when your mother met your father her voice hollered, ‘Quick! Catch him before he runs!’.”

  “Why didn’t you tell me, Tessa?” Laura asked.

  “Because…” I shook my head.

  “Because she didn’t believe it herself,” Grandma Gigi said. “Sweetheart, I’ve been telling you the stories for years.”

  “Well, yes. But I thought they were just made-up stories. Especially when the voice didn’t speak up when I met Paul.”

  “Sounds like your inner voice knows what it’s talking about.” Laura did one of those that’s-what-I’m-talking-about head nods. “Which means you definitely need a backup plan to your plan.”

  “Relax, dear. I’ve got more tricks up my sleeve.” Gigi took a thoughtful sip of her coffee. “Here’s an idea… From what you’ve told me, Gray Thorne has women saying ‘yes’ to him all the time, probably all his life. So, what if Tessa Madigan is the woman who tells Gray Thorne ‘no’? A lot. That’ll get his attention.”

  “I like it. The only thing is Tessa’s not great at saying ‘no’.” Laura looked at me and shrugged. “You never have been.”

  “You make a good point,” Gigi said. “I believe you got in trouble at school for doing another chil
d’s homework. Also, the time you gave some girl the shirt off your back. Literally. Came home in your sports bra.”

  “Sadly, all true.” I shook my head at the memory of the day Ellen Larson asked me for my shirt at soccer practice. I gave away my favorite T-shirt because I couldn’t say no.

  Laura’s eyes studied the ceiling. “I’ve got it! Channel my bitchy sister.”

  “What? Kristen’s a sweetheart.”

  “Other sister.”

  “Oh right. Marie can be a bitch. And a snob. She does have a way of saying no a lot. I can channel Marie.”

  Just say no. Between that and Gigi’s man whispering technique I had a plan of attack.

  No, Gray. No. I don’t think so. Better not. No way, José. Nee. Non. Nein. Ní hea. No siree. Not on your life. Negative, ghost rider. Nah. Nope.

  I was as ready as I could be for “Operation Snag Fifty Shags.”

  Chapter 7

  Gray

  One week later I was back at Tessa’s house finally finishing the meetings that had been cut short. The initial meeting for her home renovation had ended abruptly when Tessa shut the meeting down early—right after I’d caught her out in the fib about the Viagra, as a matter of fact.

  Then there was the van reno meeting she’d cut short when she had something better to do than finish a meeting I’d changed my schedule to accommodate. How many places can a person go with a dog in tow? The dog park? Lunch with a girlfriend? Or a boyfriend? Which, good luck to whatever guy had the balls or eternal patience to take Tessa Madigan on. Sure there was something about her, but no way could it be worth the trouble. I’m talking capital T trouble. Things just did not add up with the woman.

  Each meeting, phone call, and email exchange with Tessa Madigan left me frustrated and fuming. Thank God for our batting cage out back. Smacking the leather off a bag of balls was the only way to calm down so far. I figured my brothers had no sympathy for me because first, they were enjoying watching my pain. And second, they probably had bets going on who would quit first, me or Tessa Madigan.

  And the worst part? The Madigan job hadn’t even fucking started yet. Not officially. I couldn’t even put together a proposal until she figured out what she wanted. I was beginning to think what she wanted was to drive me crazy. Every damn day she called having completely changed her mind on about seventeen different things. I’d even begged Beck to let this one go; all Beck said was a job was a job.

  My goal for today’s meeting with Tessa was to show her my concept drawings and estimate for the van. If the drawings were acceptable, get her input for any adjustments and then have her sign off on them to get that rolling.

  Next up, quickly and efficiently finish the walk-through of her house. Record the measurements and take photos of each room, and have a calm, professional, and thorough discussion about what she wanted in the renovation. And then get the hell out before everything went sideways. The way it usually did with Tessa.

  But nothing ever goes the way I expect it will when it comes to Tessa Madigan.

  I rang Tessa’s doorbell, standing back a polite distance from the door while I waited.

  She opened it, looked at my shoes, and slammed it in my face. Again.

  I waited. If this went like the last time she’d slammed the door in my face, she’d reopen it in a few seconds. As if on cue the door swung back open, and Tessa stood there with her dog Sully tucked up in one arm and a stiff smile on her face.

  “Hello, Tessa.” I smiled my friendly smile, the one that usually put people at ease. But it only worked if a person saw it, and Tessa’s eyes had stopped somewhere around my chest. I glanced down to see if I’d spilled something on my shirt at lunch, but no, all good there.

  “Gray. Please, come on in.” She turned her face quickly away as she led me in and back through to her kitchen. “I appreciate you fitting me into your schedule again, especially since it was my fault we didn’t finish this the other day.”

  “Not a problem. I’m flexible.” Within reason. I didn’t like the idea of some spoiled woman jerking me around for her own amusement. I hadn’t come to that conclusion yet, but I also wasn’t ruling it out.

  “Good to know. About you being flexible. With your schedule. Not you. I mean, maybe you are, and that’s good too. Flexible people have fewer lower back problems.” Tessa strung the sentences together, almost without taking a breath. All while she played follow the bouncing dot apparently. She looked at the flowers on the counter, my shoes, her shoes, her dog’s shoes (yep, I said the dog’s shoes). She looked everywhere but at me.

  For the record, I was both kinds of flexible. Working out with Ash a lot made sure of it. I chose not to share that information.

  “I thought we could finish the walk-through on your house so that SBC can put together a proposal for you. That way you’ll have something concrete to compare for any other bids you get. If you choose to go with us, we can get you on our schedule quickly, and you’ll be that much closer to getting your reno completed. How does that sound?”

  “No. No, I’d rather start with the van.”

  “Absolutely. I brought the concept drawings for the van ready for you to look at.”

  “That was fast. I’ve delayed the van too long, so I’m anxious to get going on it.” She sat at the small dinette set, a dainty looking antique that I could picture in some sweet little old lady’s house. “Let’s see what you’ve come up with.”

  I opened my laptop at her kitchen table, turning the screen around for her to look. “I think I’ve fit in all your wish list items. You even have about ten inches of extra space to work with. We can always stick a temporary filler there, so as you begin to use it, and find you need something else, there’ll be room.”

  Tessa’s cell phone rang and I paused while she picked it up from the kitchen table to check the caller ID.

  “Sorry, I need to grab this,” she said, and then took the call. “Hi, Daddy. What’s up?”

  Sully perked up from under the table at hearing “daddy” so I assumed “daddy” was one of his favorite humans.

  “You finished my website? Thanks, Dad.” Her eyes flicked across to me. “I’m meeting with my guy about the reno, so I’ll give it a look as soon as it wraps up.”

  Okay, the fact that my dick twitched when she said “my guy” meant I needed to get laid. Only two problems with that: I was still suffering from the man flu and I had the no-sex bet going. Also, did this woman do anything for herself? Her dad did her website. I was doing her van. She didn’t even drive herself as far as I could tell because her Volvo was still sitting blocked in by her van and she was on a first name basis with her Uber driver.

  Whatever her father said next had her sitting up straighter. “Paul called you? Yeah, I was afraid of that, but thanks for the heads up. Okay, I’ll look after my meeting wraps up. Love you, Daddy.”

  Shoot, I’d lost where we were in the discussion before her phone rang…her van. Right. “So, for your van, I—”

  “Hold.” She held a finger up, silently asking for a moment while she tapped out a text on her phone before looking up. “Okay, release. I mean, go on, please.”

  What the heck? No. I wasn’t even going to puzzle her out. I’d just keep going and try to get her to commit to something today.

  “You were about to look through the options I’ve come up with for your van.” I moved the laptop closer to her.

  She leaned forward to examine the renderings. I had drawn up four: one for each side of the van, a top view showing the entire van layout, and one rendering for the possible ramp and tub storage. While she took her time looking through them, I did everything I could not to stare at her. Because…client. And things had already gotten off on the wrong foot. The last thing I wanted was to add to the tension between us. Tension I didn’t want to attempt to examine.

  The thing was that a good designer got to know thei
r clients. Knowing a client’s lifestyle, their likes and dislikes, their goals and ideal vision for the space was a necessary part of a good design and a satisfied client. Design was very personal, and when it came to her house renovation I’d have to figure out what Tessa got off on, so to speak, to make this work.

  “I’ve included some links to suppliers for the different items you requested, such as the refrigerator, the sliding stack of drawers, and the portable tub. I did a bit of research and included only the best-rated items in the estimate.”

  She nodded, clicking through and studying each drawing. I tried not to stare at her, but my gaze kept floating back. To the soft rioting curls of her light brown hair that barely brushed her shoulders, to her light green eyes, to the sharp cheekbones and pointed chin of her face. She was on the thin side and had pale skin, as if she wasn’t the outdoor type. Or was darn good about applying sunscreen.

  “Whatever changes you’d like, let me know, and I’ll revise it. Once you approve it, we can start right away. I’ve got a guy I trust who does van conversions. He’s good. I’ll supply the material and he’ll install it. You can see his labor is added already in the estimate. I can’t imagine this will take more than a couple days. We can get you up and running and driving around town in less than a week.”

  I expected some sign of enthusiasm about that one week turn-around. A smile. A thumbs up. A nod even. Instead she frowned and wrapped both arms around her dog.

  Sully sat perched on her lap looking a bit like a cocktail weenie stuffed into a beige sweater with snowflakes on it. Was it my imagination, or were his eyes begging me for help?

  I looked closer to make sure he wasn’t blinking out a signal in Morse code. And I knew Morse code since my brothers and I had used it to communicate to each other when our father was hung-over and demanding complete silence in the house.

  Deciphering the dog’s long blinks (dashes) and short blinks (dots) and—what the fuck? Not an S.O.S. I’d swear the dog just blinked out “Need bacon.” Or, I needed to get more sleep at night. If my doc couldn’t give me a shot for my man flu, I might have to ask her for some sleep aid. Because my old-fashioned, time-tested method of sex was off the table for now. A bet was a big deal among Thornes.