“Oh, Mr. Demakos. My event planner, Cassie, is here, and I know she can help answer all of your questions.”
“Like exactly how many entrants have signed the waiver to give us their recipe when this is over?” he demanded.
Uh, none. Cassie took a deep breath and slipped into the guest chair, because the small sofa was covered with boxes of inventory. Staring at Ella, she racked her brain for something to say.
“Demakos?” she asked. “Are you Greek?”
For a moment, there was nothing but silence, then, “Uh, yes, I am. Second generation, as a matter of fact.”
“So am I! Well, third gen. Cassandra Santorini is the name.”
She heard a chuckle. “Named after an aunt or grandmother?”
“Aunt and, well, mythology.”
“I’m Jason, after my grandfather, two uncles, and, of course, the Argonaut.”
Cassie laughed. “That sounds about right. So your Easter eggs are red, you’re never hungry, and your papu slips you five-dollar bills after church?”
“You’ve obviously been to my family’s house in Chicago,” he said, still cracking up. “Opa!”
“So you’re at the Family First headquarters in Chicago, Mr. Demakos?”
“Call me Jace, Cassie. Yep, right in the heart of the Windy City, which, as you probably know, has the third-largest Greek population in the country.”
“I didn’t know that. Fascinating. And, oh my gosh, I didn’t mean to hijack this conversation.”
Ella made praying-hands and whispered, “Please. Hijack away.”
With a thumbs-up to her friend, Cassie pulled out the right notebook from her stack and flipped it open. “Can you send us the waivers for us to have the entrants sign…Jace?” She added a smile, but directed it to Ella, who practically fell into her desk chair with relief.
“Of course. I’ll have my assistant send them right out.”
“And…” Ella leaned closer to the phone, looking a little tentative. “We need to talk about the name,” she said. “Mr. Demakos isn’t a fan of Pawsbury Bake-Off.”
“I totally get that,” Cassie said, giving a quick wave to Ella so she didn’t panic, mentally planning how to fix the flyers. “Wouldn’t want to confuse people about who’s underwriting the event.”
“Exactly. I was wondering if we could do something that plays off our name. Like First in the Family or—”
“How about Family Fur Bake-Off?” Cassie suggested. “It sounds like Family First, but not exactly.”
“I love it!” Jace exclaimed. “That’s brilliant.”
Ella threw her hands out in surrender. “Take it away, Cass,” she whispered, too soft for the man on the phone to hear.
Cassie nodded, on a roll now. “Have you guys discussed having the five finalists do video interviews for your website yet?”
“Is there such a thing as a video crew in that little town of yours?” There was just enough condescension in his voice to make Ella roll her eyes.
“There will be a crew on-site at the event,” Cassie promised. “The Paws for a Cause planning committee already has three different video professionals lined up for the whole month to do interviews and make B-roll that they’ll send out with daily press releases.”
“Oh.” His whole tone changed immediately. “So it does sound like the whole event is being professionally managed.”
Ella made a face at the phone. “I hate him,” she said silently.
Cassie bit back a laugh. “Of course it is, Jace. Your company is underwriting an amazing, professional event that’s going to raise thousands of dollars for wonderful causes and elevate the visibility of Family First with its most important audience—dog owners. Have you had a chance to talk to the committee chair in the mayor’s office who’s managing the entire month?”
“Actually, I started this job last week.” He sounded just sheepish enough to be forgiven. “And this is the first call related to this event I’ve had. I’m talking to…uh…William Maddox this afternoon.”
“I just left Bill’s office,” Cassie said with a wink to Ella. “He’s Mayor Wilkins’s right-hand man and I can assure you, he has everything under control.”
“Okay, I haven’t even talked to Mayor Wilkins yet. I hope he’s a good guy.”
“She’s a wonderful person,” Cassie countered, trying not to laugh at Ella throwing her hands up in disgust. “To be perfectly fair, Jace, Ella’s focus is not only her business, but the awesome Kibbles for Kindness program that she started single-handedly when she opened Bone Appetit. I’m the person who’s worried about the details, but Ella is the one with a heart of gold.”
Ella blew a silent kiss, making Cassie grin.
“So are you coordinating all the events, Cassie?” Jace asked, not terribly interested in Ella’s heart.
“Only two officially. This one and a dog-related scavenger hunt. Of course, I’ll help back up my brothers with the food booths, since they own a Greek deli in town, Santorini’s.”
“That’s where your family is from? Of course, that’s your last name. We’re from Mykonos.”
“Practically neighbors,” she joked.
“Well, I can’t wait to meet you, Cassie. It’ll be nice to know there’s good spanakopita in that little Podunk. I admit I was dreading having to spend so much of June there.”
Ella stuck out her tongue at the phone, and Cassie covered her mouth to silence a laugh. “I think you’ll be pleasantly surprised, Jace. Bitter Bark is the most dog-friendly town in America, and our tourists have pets. Plenty of them. That makes us your most important little Podunk.”
He chuckled. “You’re right. I came over from a pharmaceutical company, and sometimes I forget that the consumer for our product has four legs.”
“Well, the people with the dollars to spend have two,” Cassie reminded him. “And they are in Bitter Bark in droves next month. So, congrats on the new job. How do you like it?”
“I like being vice president of public relations,” he admitted. “I’m not a fan of learning curves, though.”
“Oh, I get that,” Cassie crooned, pretty sure she had this guy’s number. “We should get a feature article done about your new position in the Bitter Bark Banner. I know it’s not exactly The New York Times, but the people who visit this town read the Banner religiously, and we actually have a whole section called Gone to the Dogs that appeals to pet owners. I’ll definitely talk to the Paws for a Cause planning committee about getting you an interview.”
“That would be fantastic.” He sounded more than pleased with that idea. “You know your stuff, Cassie.”
She looked down at the notes she’d taken. “Just trying to help. If you send those waivers over, we’ll get them signed. Was there anything else?”
“Nope. It sounds like you have all the bases covered.”
Ella curled her lip.
“We’re working on it,” Cassie assured him.
“Then I look forward to meeting you,” he replied. “And you, uh, Ms. Mahoney. Your cause sounds…wonderful.”
She made a face, then fake-smiled. “Thank you, Jace. Can I call you Jace, even though I’m not Greek but sitting in the same room as one?”
He laughed, a thousand times more relaxed now, and they signed off. As the call ended, Ella stretched out her arms. “This is me loving you for smoothing out that pompous jerk with promises of interviews and spanakopita.”
Cassie laughed. “I know my way around a Greek man,” she said. “And you looked overwhelmed.”
“I’m not gonna lie, this event-planning stuff? Not my thing. I run a store and love dogs and didn’t know where to begin to answer his questions, Cass. No wonder Braden got you to help him. Did you get the scavenger hunt approved?”
“I sure did. And he’ll love the date, too. It’s toward the end of the month, so we have plenty of time to plan.”
“We.” She raised her brows. “And the family grows even more complicated.”
And here we go. “We’r
e not technically family.”
“Oh, I know. And no one is technically shocked. You know that, don’t you?”
She stared across the desk, processing that. “That we’re…dating?”
“Cass, everyone’s kind of surprised you didn’t go official sooner. You two have been attached at the hip since you moved here.”
“No.” She shook her head. “No hips have been attached. I swear that hips have not even come close to attaching.”
Ella laughed and stood up. “But they will be.”
“No, no, they won’t.”
Ella shot her a look as she came around the desk. “Girl. You’re dating him. Your hips better get attached, and soon. We need some little Mahoneys to balance out all those baby Kilcannons.”
“Little Mahoneys?”
Ella shot out the door. “Mom! Cassie saved my backside. She can marry your son now!”
Cassie just sat there with her mouth wide open, listening to the two of them giggle. And she almost joined them, because the idea was so preposterous, it was funny. Except, when they hit the expiration date…would all these people who weren’t surprised be disappointed?
Chapter Nine
Braden’s truck rumbled into Pine Woods Grove, the residential neighborhood he called home, at six thirty on Monday night, and all the stress of a long shift disappeared at the sight of Cassie’s red compact SUV parked in his driveway.
For some reason, he’d wondered if she’d really come over, thinking that maybe the evening they’d planned together to grab a bite at home and then work on the scavenger hunt would feel too intimate.
Fact was, Braden had rarely been alone with Cassie. Other than an hour at a coffee shop and a few minutes on Sunday out by the lake, someone in the family was almost always around them.
Now, they had a whole evening together, completely alone.
As he’d suggested, she’d used his pass code to open the garage door, promising to handle dinner so they could go to town and scope out some scavenger hunt stops before it got dark.
He put his hand on Jelly Bean’s back, where his dog was curled up on the passenger seat next to him. “Lesson one, my friend. Never underestimate Cassandra Santorini.”
Jelly Bean rose from his resting position immediately, peering out the windshield, letting out a quick bark at the sight of an unfamiliar car, then a few more, followed by his guttural growl that somehow had managed to translate into Cassie’s name.
“Can it, JB,” Braden warned. “We got ourselves a brand-new girlfriend.”
Chastised, he dropped his head, but Braden whistled with a second wind after a long day. He climbed out, grabbed his duffel bag, and let Jelly Bean out. As he walked toward the bungalow he’d been renting for two years, the front door opened and Cassie stood with one hand on her hip and a wooden spoon in the other.
“Hi, honey, you’re home.”
He wanted to laugh or at least fling back a one-liner, but…for a moment, he was simply off-balance. Was this what it would be like to come home to Cassie? Because he didn’t hate the idea. At all. In fact, he kind of wanted to stand in the doorway and beam at her like a loon.
After a second, he got control. “You cooking?”
She opened the door to let them in. “Or possibly rap your knuckles like my Yiayia did with her wooden spoons.”
As he stepped inside, he had to fight the urge to lean over and kiss her hello. It seemed so natural and right, but he held back. “No knuckle rapping. I was very good today,” he said. “And so was JB.” He looked down for the dog, but didn’t see him. Turning, he found him on the patio, refusing to come in. “What the heck?”
“Pretty sure he hates me,” Cassie said.
“Then he needs more than scent-detection training.” He signaled for Jelly Bean to come, which he did, but then he made an actual effort to walk around Cassie and not look at her. “Jelly Bean,” Braden chided. “What’s up with you?”
The dog headed to the kitchen in search of dinner, leaving Braden to stare at him in disbelief.
“No worries,” Cassie said, tapping his chest with the spoon. “Do you always finish a ten-hour day in a clean shirt and smelling like manly soap?”
“I showered at the station.” He tossed the bag on a table near the front door and took a deep sniff of something wonderful. “Speaking of smells. Whoa.”
“Don’t be impressed.” She gestured for him to follow her to the kitchen. “I’m just heating up some souvlaki and dolmades I got from the restaurant.”
“Sounds exotic.”
“Because you’re Irish and ketchup on meat loaf is a culinary adventure.” She moved with grace and familiarity in the kitchen, which was surprising because she’d been to his house for a party only once, and a few months ago she and Ella had brought him soup when he’d had the flu. “Souvlaki is skewered meat and vegetables. Dolmades are—”
“Stuffed grape leaves. I get them every time I go to Santorini’s.”
“No octopus?”
He grinned, heading to the pantry cabinet to get some dinner for Jelly Bean, since the dog was already making circles around his empty bowls. “We’ll work up to octopus.”
She leaned against the tiny island and pointed to a glass of white wine. “Do you mind that I raided that little shelf over there?”
“Of course not. It’s left over from the last time I had people here. Is it any good? I prefer beer.”
“It’s fine, and I did bring over a six-pack of Miller Lite for my host. It’s in the fridge.”
He tapped his hand over his heart in gratitude. “Why do I feel like this good fortune can’t possibly last?”
“Because…expiration date, remember?”
Ah, yes. Of course. “Well, speaking of dates, can I take you on one this weekend?”
“That was fast.” She lifted her glass, eyeing him over the rim.
“We gotta have a little time in the public eye, or nobody will believe us.”
She stared at him for a moment, then took a big gulp of wine.
“Why does that bother you so much?” he asked as he turned to fill the dog food bowl.
“I’ve done such a good job of avoiding it for so long, that’s all.”
Letting that sink in, he fed JB and opened the fridge to help himself to a Miller Lite, then asked the only obvious question. “Why?”
“I already told you, I’m planning to leave.”
“And that’s kept you from dating anyone?”
She went to the stove, stirring something in the pan. “I’m thirty, and dating isn’t going to be super casual. Dating someone and having no future is like shopping with no money. You can’t really get satisfaction.”
“So that’s satisfaction to you? The whole enchilada? Like, marriage, babies, and white picket fences?”
She stared at the food, the wooden spoon still. “I’m Greek,” she finally said. “We place a high value on that. And honestly, I’ve only seriously considered Greek men, and they seemed to all fall short.”
He held the beer bottle midway to his mouth, thinking about that. “So, you actually agree with your grandmother? You think you have to marry a Greek guy? Why? Your dad didn’t marry a Greek woman.”
“I know, but I think it’s…right. It’s comfortable to me. I’ve grown up around Greek men, they understand my culture, they respect the family, they…” She turned to him, her brows lifting when she saw his jaw hanging open. “What?”
“That’s so…limiting. And closed-minded. And old school. What if you fell in love with a guy who wasn’t Greek?”
She shrugged. “Not saying it couldn’t happen, just that’s not what I think I want. And what I want is to move out of small-town America. For that, I need to have an amazing résumé. So, will you get me some plates so we can eat and get started working on the scavenger hunt plan and concentrate on what’s important here?”
He didn’t move for those plates, still staring at her, taking it all in, processing it, understanding why, which was always
the question that plagued him.
“Why are you looking at me like I have two heads?” she asked. “You’re the one who won’t settle down because of some imaginary fear of never coming home.”
He opened his mouth to argue, but shut it. She was absolutely right. “So, what about Saturday night? Chief Winkler’s turning fifty, and his wife is having a surprise party for him. Will you be my date, or am I not Greek enough?”
“You’ll never be Greek enough, but sure, I’ll go to a party with you.” She slipped by him, opened a cabinet, and grabbed the plates she’d asked for.
He put down the beer to get napkins and forks, the first half of her sentence stinging.
You’ll never be Greek enough.
He tamped down all the feelings that threatened and shifted to safer, more solid ground.
“I hardly went out at all on calls today, which gave me hours to research scent-detection training. I actually downloaded a textbook and read about half of it.”
“Of course you did, Einstein.”
There. Safer ground. He had to remember to stay here. “So, before we go out, I just want to run a quick test with JB, and then we can try him out when we head to town.”
“Sounds good.”
He easily kept the conversation on scents and scavenger hunts the whole time they ate dinner together.
* * *
“You’re adorable.” Cassie crossed her arms and leaned against the porch post in Braden’s backyard and watched him work.
“Why do I think you’re mocking me?”
“Oh, because you just spread out an array of junk that includes…” She picked up a metal jar. “Kerosene, Q-tips cut in half, Tupperware you ruined with holes, disposable gloves, and tweezers. Where did you get all this stuff?”
“At the station. I collected it all day and made my very own scent-detection kit.” He took the disposable gloves and slid them on. “Can you take Jelly Bean inside, away from the scents, while I load the vessels with the appropriate Q-tips?”
“Wouldn’t it be better to leave this up to the experts that you’re raising ten grand to access?”
Hot Under the Collar Page 10
