“I know. I had to help clean it up.” Even though everything they were saying was true, Ashley felt bad about their conversation. “Well, maybe she just needs some time to get the hang of things.” With a grimace, she added, “Some more time, I mean.”
Before anybody could say anything more, the subject of their dismay practically skipped into the frosting area, her joyful exuberance almost tangible. “Hi, Ash,” she said with a grin, her brown hair creating little wings as it tried to escape from under her hat. Even when she reached her destination next to Ashley, she couldn’t seem to keep still, shifting her weight from one foot to the other, doing a slight bounce, her eyes filled with the excited delight of somebody much younger. Like, toddler younger. “Can I do something to help?”
The question sent Ashley into a silent, internal panic because she didn’t want to give anything to Katie to do, lest she spill it, drop it, or ruin it in some form or fashion, which was always a distinct possibility with her.
“Um…” She looked around, noticed that both Stella and Martha looked pointedly away, avoiding eye contact. Damn them. Her eyes landed on some stainless steel bowls and utensils she’d used earlier. “How about taking those dishes to be washed?”
“You got it.” Katie bounced to the pile Ashley had indicated and swooped them up in a precarious armload that would not have surprised anybody had it crashed noisily to the floor. Shockingly, it did not, and Katie sprang along and out of sight.
Ashley grunted and shook her head, hating the dread she felt around Katie, hating that such a nice, kind human being made her cringe so badly. Katie had been at the bakery for more than five years, so she definitely did something right or the owners wouldn’t have kept her on. She was actually an excellent baker, and a couple of the new cookie styles had been hers. Those were probably the reasons she hadn’t been let go.
“Hey,” Stella said, pulling her out of her ruminations. “Did you see they’ve posted a department manager position?”
“In addition to the manager position Becky’s leaving?”
“Yup. It’s in your e-mail. From what I read, they’re going to hire a couple different department heads over the next year or so. You should apply for this one.”
“You should apply,” Ashley countered. “You’ve been here way longer than I have. You’d have it locked up.”
Stella shook her graying head. “No, thanks. I’ve been here for a long time, but I like this role. Besides, I’m only a few years from retiring. Why on earth would I want more responsibility?”
Ashley laughed, completely understanding. “Well, I don’t know that I want more either.” Giving Stella a sheepish grin, she added quietly, “Well. That’s not entirely true. I actually would like more. It’s the ‘getting it’ part that makes me nervous. The application and the interviewing and the selling myself stuff. I hate all of it. Stresses me out.”
Stella cocked her head, gave Ashley a stern, parent-like look. “Honey, you’re young. You need to think about your future. Moving up would be a good thing for you. Are you just going to frost cookies and cakes your entire life?”
Making a noncommittal sound, Ashley raised a shoulder in a half-shrug. “I don’t know.”
“What’s not to know?” Stella asked. “You’ve been here since you were in high school. They trust you. You’re good at your job. Put on your Big Girl Panties and apply.”
“I might.”
“Yeah, I’ve met you and that means you’re placating me and you will not apply.”
Ashley grinned. “But maybe I’ll surprise you.”
Stella snorted. “That’d be nice, but I’m not holding my bre—”
A loud crash interrupted them. Ashley looked at Stella. “And there it is.”
“Honest to God, that girl would drop her own head if it wasn’t attached to her shoulders.”
With another groan, Ashley put down her tools and headed in the direction the ruckus had come from. Around the corner and in the kitchen, Katie was picking up utensils from the floor. When she saw Ashley approach, she gave a sheepish grin. “At least they were already dirty. They had to be washed anyway.”
Her smile was contagious. Ashley couldn’t help but smile back as she squatted down and helped grab up the fallen tools. “Here you go.” She handed a ladle and a giant spatula over.
“You’ve been here for a long time,” said Katie, apropos of nothing.
Ashley nodded. “You’ve got some time logged in, too.”
“Only five years and three months. Not like you.”
“Hey, five years is nothing to sneeze at.”
Katie gave a half-shrug. “I guess.”
She couldn’t help it, Ashley reached out and gave Katie’s shoulder a squeeze of encouragement. “Don’t sell yourself short. Okay? That doesn’t do anybody any good.”
There was that infectious smile again. “I won’t,” Katie said with a nod. “Thanks, Ashley.”
“Any time.” Ashley headed back to her own workstation, feeling better about her earlier thoughts. Katie was a good kid. Ashley chuckled internally. Kid. Katie was only three years younger than she was. Calling her a kid was silly.
An hour later, Ashley and Stella had finished the cookies and Ashley had a chance to sit at her small desk in a tiny corner of the back area and rest her feet. Looking down at her battered—in more ways than one—sneakers, she absently realized it was probably time for a new pair. She stretched her legs straight out and pointed her toes like a dancer, willing the muscles to relax. Then she turned to her computer to check her e-mail.
Stella was right. There it was, an e-mail from the owners asking for applicants to fill not only Becky’s soon-to-be empty position, but two department managers as well, and more to come in the future. The application was attached. Carter’s Bakery was large and employed upwards of fifty people, so Ashley was sure there’d be plenty of candidates. Lots of people had been there longer than she had.
Also, she’d been there longer than lots of people.
Chewing on the inside of her cheek, she reread the e-mail. Her cursor was hovering over the little paper clip icon when her cell phone vibrated, moving it slightly on the desktop next to the keyboard. Carly’s name showed in the screen.
Ashley breathed in and let the air out slowly. She picked up the phone, her thumb hovering over the green button when an enormous crash startled her so badly she literally popped out of her seat for a second. Hand pressed to her chest, she spun around and met Stella’s laughing eyes across the room.
“Well, it has been over an hour since she dropped anything,” she said with a shrug.
Ashley couldn’t help but smile as she stood to go help. “This is true.”
CHAPTER SEVEN
Memorial Day weekend could not have presented better weather to the people who attended the annual volunteer thank you picnic Junebug Farms threw every year. They used to wait until later in the summer, but discovered that it was more difficult to gather everybody together the better the weather became. Moving it to Memorial Day weekend did force them to compete with camping trips and long weekends out of town, but over the years, the management team for the shelter had found the end of May to be the best time.
This was the fourth year they’d had it on this date and the third time it had been held at Lisa’s aunt’s waterfront beach house. Lisa had initially hated the idea and still did. Every year, she and her aunt had the exact same discussion. Every year, Lisa lost.
“What if they break stuff? It’ll be a bunch of strangers in your house, Aunt Joyce. And by late evening, many of them will be drunk.”
“Are they adults?” Aunt Joyce had asked.
“Yes, for the most part. We do have a couple high school kids.”
“Who will not be drinking, I assume?”
“No. Jessica’s really good about watching that.”
“Then there’s nothing to worry about.”
Lisa made a sound indicating she was trying to think of another reason why this was a
bad idea.
“Lisa. Listen to me.” Aunt Joyce’s voice took on the slightly stern quality that she didn’t use often, only when she felt she wasn’t being heard. “My beach house is beautiful. I love it. But it does not get nearly the use it should. I am overjoyed by the idea of people having fun there. Don’t worry. I’ll pop by and make sure everything is running smoothly. Just tell Jessica it’s a go. And stop stressing.”
Of course, she couldn’t tell Aunt Joyce the real reason this gathering bothered her. Aunt Joyce wouldn’t understand that Lisa’s worlds were colliding and how much that weirded her out. She didn’t like to mix her work life and her private life, and Aunt Joyce was as much a part of her private life—as was this house—as anything. Having her work colleagues poking around the place where Lisa grew up felt…invasive somehow. But she sucked it up and put it on a shelf in her brain and let her aunt do what made her happy.
Now, Lisa stood on the beach, watching the water from Lake Ontario lap gently up over the shore. The sun shone brightly down, bouncing off the water as if it were a sheet of glass, forcing Lisa to pull her sunglasses off her head and over her eyes. The sky was a clear canvas of electric blue and the bright white sail of a boat in the distance made Lisa’s view almost as perfect as a painting. Her phone buzzed and she pulled it out. A text from her mother.
Hope the picnic goes great today! ☺
Lisa blew out a breath and tucked the phone back into her pocket.
“This is going to be fantastic.” The voice from behind her startled her slightly. She turned to raise her gaze and meet the Ray-Ban-covered eyes of David Peters.
“You think so?” she asked him. He was decked out in crisp khaki pants and a tight black T-shirt that hugged his muscular torso like it was painted on him. The sun glinted off his bald head and his teeth seemed bright white against his dark skin.
“Are you kidding? It’s always great. Look at this place.” He waved a massive arm in a very Vanna White-like gesture. “It’s beautiful. We’ve got food. Drink. A gorgeous lake. A fire pit for later. The makings for s’mores. What’s not to like?” At what must have been a grimace on Lisa’s face, David laughed and laid a warm, heavy hand on her shoulder. With a squeeze, he said, “Lisa. Honey. You really need to lighten up. Take a page out of your aunt’s playbook. She’s already got some wine.”
His deep chuckle resonated in the pit of Lisa’s stomach even as he was walking away. She blew out a breath. Maybe he was right. If Aunt Joyce wasn’t worried—and she rarely was—maybe Lisa shouldn’t be either. She headed toward the house, toward the makeshift bar, thinking maybe her aunt had the right idea.
Three hours later, the barbecue was in full swing. Hot dogs and hamburgers sizzled on the grill where Maggie Simon’s husband, Bill, was dressed in a Kiss the Cook apron, tongs in hand, flipping away. Various volunteers—some that Lisa knew and some from other areas of the shelter that she didn’t—were bunched up in small, departmental cliques, talking, laughing, eating and drinking. The volunteers for the barn animals were together. Three girls that gave time to Paws & Whiskers were chatting with Maggie. Jamie O’Connor was sitting near the fire pit with four of the people who helped her with her behavioral training and agility classes. And on the back deck of the beach house sat Tammy and Ashley, who had driven together, along with six other volunteers.
Lisa stood off to one side of the yard holding a bottle of beer, watching her volunteers laugh and converse with one another. A hand on her arm startled her enough to make her jump, and Aunt Joyce covered a laugh with a sip from her Tervis tumbler of iced white zinfandel.
“Why don’t you go sit with your people?” she asked, her eyes slightly glassy from the wine.
“I was thinking about it,” Lisa lied. She would rather stand where she was and observe from afar. I like this view, she thought as she watched Ashley bust into a fit of laughter at something a volunteer named Will said. Her cheeks were rosy—whether from the day’s sun or the alcohol, Lisa wasn’t sure, but she liked the color—and she looked adorable, which she tried not to think about. She’d done her share of mingling, of thanking various volunteers in various departments for all their hard work. She took a swig of her beer, then turned to her aunt, trying to ignore the erotic pull Ashley seemed to have on her, even as she stood this far away. “Having fun?”
“I am,” Aunt Joyce said, the watery smile apparent in her voice. “You know I love these gatherings.” She hooked her hand around Lisa’s elbow. “Come on. Introduce me to your volunteers.” And with a gentle tug, they were walking toward the deck.
“Hey there,” Ashley said, and grinned as her blue eyes settled on Lisa’s with a rather bold directness as Lisa pushed her sunglasses back up onto her head. The eye contact caused a surprising—and sensual—tightening low in her body, and Lisa cleared her throat, forced herself to pull her gaze away. Which was not easy.
“Folks, this is my aunt, Joyce Meredith. This is her beach house you’re partying in,” she said with a half-grin.
Her volunteers didn’t disappoint her, jumping up to shake hands or hug Aunt Joyce, sucking her into their circle like a cell absorbing nutrients. Lisa watched, smiling, loving how playful and friendly Aunt Joyce was with the staff. A glance up had her locking eyes with Ashley again, and this time, the gaze held for one, long, delicious beat until Ashley smiled at her in a way that could be described as nothing other than totally sexy before slowly and casually looking away. Jesus Christ. Lisa wet her lips and took a sip from her beer, suddenly parched. What the hell is happening here?
Ashley looked great today. Sexy. A little hot, even. Okay, a lot hot. Lisa had noticed. Not intentionally, but she couldn’t seem to help where her eyes went—and that fact irritated her a little bit each time they pulled her gaze in Ashley’s direction. Which was often. White shorts with flapped pockets on the back, a black tank top, and a white hooded jacket with the sleeves pushed up her forearms. Black sandals and a long silver chain with a fish dangling around her neck finished off the outfit, and Lisa tried not to stare at the waves of blonde hair cascading around Ashley’s shoulders. It was still somewhat unusual to see her with her hair down rather than in a ponytail and covered with a hat. Lisa liked it down. She liked it down a lot, and she found herself daydreaming about what all that glorious hair would feel like in her hands. God…
That thought jarred her hard enough to get her to return to reality and, draining her beer, she turned away from the group and went in search of something or someone less distracting to focus on. Anything. Anything at all.
Unfortunately, she ran directly into the solid chest of Clark Breckenridge.
“Hello, Mr. Breckenridge,” she said, amazed by how not aggravated she sounded, since what she really wanted to say was, “What the hell are you doing here?” Even in casual clothes, he was ridiculously handsome, his dark hair just wavy enough to make a woman (not Lisa) want to run her hands through it. Broad shoulders stretched the blue golf shirt as tight as possible without making it look too small, and his torso tapered down to a trim waist, chinos cinched with a brown leather belt that probably cost more than Lisa’s entire outfit.
“Lisa,” he replied with a gallant tip of his head. “I told you. It’s Clark.” But his eyes were focused over Lisa’s shoulder and she knew without looking who he was focusing on. “Nice to see you,” he said, and with a gentle brush of his hand to her arm, he sidestepped her and beelined for the deck. And Ashley. Lisa didn’t want to look, but couldn’t seem to stop herself as she pulled her sunglasses back down to cover her eyes and turned to take a glance.
Was that dread on Ashley’s face when she saw him?
It could be, but Lisa wasn’t sure. If it was, Ashley had done a masterful job of covering it quickly. If it wasn’t…Lisa could have been mistaken. It was possible. They hadn’t ever spoken about him. Maybe Ashley was fine around him. Maybe she liked his attention; lots of girls did. Maybe she was happy to see him, despite what Tammy had said about him not being Ashley’s type. Tho
ugh Tammy did tend to be a really good judge of character…
“God, stop it,” Lisa muttered in disgust. Not wishing to subject herself to any further analysis about why she was suddenly so concerned with how Ashley chose to occupy her time, she forced her head back around, detoured past the coolers to grab herself another beer, and headed toward the fire pit. Jamie’s crew always tended to be a fun bunch. Maybe they could distract her from this…distraction.
“Lisa. Come sit with us,” Jamie O’Connor said with a grin as she saw Lisa’s approach. Catherine’s nephew, Jason, jumped up from the collapsible chair he was occupying and offered it to Lisa as he pushed his glasses up his nose with a finger.
“Thanks, Jason,” Lisa said, taking the seat.
“For those of you who haven’t met her, this is Lisa Drakemore. She’s in charge of adoption and intake at Junebug.” Jamie gave her head a toss to shake her dark hair out of her eyes. Murmurs went around the circle, which was made up of six other people besides Jamie and Lisa.
“Intake?” a young woman asked. “You must want to kill people on the daily.” She sported a chestnut brown ponytail and startlingly blue eyes.
Lisa cocked her head. “What do you mean?”
The woman shrugged. “Just…some of the animals that are brought in are abused or neglected, right?”
“Oh.” Lisa nodded and scratched her chin. “Some are. That’s true.”
“How do you not go off on those idiots?” the guy sitting next to Jason asked. He looked to be maybe thirty and his head was intentionally bald, judging from the slight wheat-colored stubble prickling his scalp.
“She drinks,” Jamie said with a grin, earning laughter around the circle. Lisa lifted her bottle and took a sip.
“It takes practice,” she told them honestly. “Some days are easier than others. I just try to remind myself that whatever that animal has been through, it’s over and we’re going to give it a better home than what it had.”
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