“I am.”
He rubs his hands together, and we both laugh. “I’d say she’s five-five or so. A smile that makes you feel like you walked into a house that smells of freshly baked bread. Eyes that show all her feelings.”
My pen stops on the paper. “That’s it?”
He laughs. “She has to want a serious relationship and have a sense of humor. I know a lot of guys probably come in here and tell you that. But for me, it’s a must. To be honest, there’s a reason I came to you.”
I drop the pen on the paper. “Why?”
“I know of your family. I hope that doesn’t sound creepy.” He cringes.
It should, but it doesn’t. The Baileys are pretty well known in the area. Mostly because when your parents die at the same time and leave their nine kids as orphans, a small town bands together and I think, in a sense, a lot of Lake Starlight’s residents think of us as their own.
“I came here for the last Founder’s Day with a friend and he was telling me the story of your family during the parade. The Baileys are fortunate at finding love, so I figured I’d go to the expert.”
I inwardly laugh. He wouldn’t think that if he knew I’m about to watch my best friend marry someone else because after years of friendship, I just realized I love him. I wouldn’t call me an expert in anything other than failure. “Well, my siblings have had success, but I must warn you, I’m still single, along with two other siblings.”
He chuckles. “I find that hard to believe.”
“Well, Kingston is messed up—that’s a whole other story—and Sedona is still young. She’s pretty serious about this soccer—”
“I meant that you’re single.”
I rear back and heat fills my cheek. Stop blushing. You cannot blush in front of a client. “Oh. Yeah. Well.”
Pull it together, Juno.
I manage to straighten my back in the chair and stop being awkward as hell just because someone compliments me.
“I can’t date a client.” Best to be upfront if that’s what he’s getting at.
“What if I wasn’t a client?” He raises his eyebrows. “I guess I expected someone more like her when I walked in.” He points at the picture of my Aunt Etta on the wall.
Yeah, he’s right, she sure looked the part. She was in her seventies when that picture was taken, red curled hair and a hat, no skin showing except her face.
“That’s my Aunt Etta. I get my matchmaking skills from her.”
“Really?”
“Yeah, that’s what my mom always said. I’m the only Bailey with red hair, and there’s a long line of redheads on my mom’s side who had the craft of matchmaking at their fingertips.”
He nods and I realize I’m dodging his advance.
“So how about a date, Juno?”
Jason isn’t the first guy to hit on me, but usually, it’s not a potential client—it’s the guys I bring in to set up with my bachelorettes. They don’t get a call back. But Jason’s not doing this in a sleezy way like those guys did.
“I’m not sure.”
Colton comes to my mind. Then Brigette right after.
Her in a white dress and Colton waiting at the end of the aisle. What choice do I have at this point? Move on and maybe put Colton back into the friend box.
“Sure.”
He smiles wide. Those dimples could fit quarters. “Great. How about Saturday?”
I glance at my calendar. “Perfect.”
He stands and pulls his phone out of his pocket. “Should we exchange numbers?”
“Yeah. I guess so.”
We exchange our personal numbers and he shoves his phone into his pocket. “I’ll call you with specifics.” He holds out his hand. “See how great you are? You already fixed me up.” He winks, and I smile.
“Don’t give me too much credit.”
He steps back and waves to me one more time before walking out the door.
I snap off a piece of a baby rattle cookie. This can be my lunch. I’m brushing the crumbs off my chest when the door dings again.
“Hey, Miss Juno.” Earl, the mail carrier, comes in. “Mail call.” He drops it on my desk.
“Thank you, Earl. Have a cookie or two,” I say.
Earl is a transplant from Alabama. Moved up here to be with his daughter and her husband so he could be near his grandchildren after his wife died.
“Don’t mind if I do.” He looks at them. “Oh, dinosaur, my favorite.” He laughs and nods his thank you. “Have a great day, Miss Juno. See you tomorrow.”
He leaves and I walk across the room to pick up my mail and there it is—my electricity bill. I see the red through the envelope, their way of saying, “Open this up and pay, or else.” I tear the envelope open and sure enough, there’s a shut-off notice.
Great. I managed to get a date and not a client. How do I expect to pay these bills?
I sit down and let my forehead fall to the desk.
The door opens and I quickly right myself, finding Grandma Dori and Colton standing there. She has her arm through his arm, and knowing her, she’s holding on tight to make sure he can’t escape.
“Juno, you can’t just nap at work,” she says.
“I wasn’t napping.” I quickly straighten my papers, shoving the past due notices into the drawer.
When I look up, Colton’s watching me intently. I’ve always told him he should have been a detective. He can scent out when something’s off like a drug-sniffing dog.
“People can see you through the window,” Grandma continues. “At least lock your door. Maybe we get you one of those separator fan things.”
“A room divider,” Colton says.
Grandma pats his hand. “That’s it. Thank you, Colton.” She unhooks her arm from his and detours to the cookies, grabbing a flower one before sitting down in front of me. “Don’t let those nosey women this morning bring up those feelings from the past, dear.” She bites off part of the cookie and looks at it. “I’m going to snag some of these for Calista, Dion, and Phoebe.”
“Go ahead. I’ll eat them all if you don’t.”
“What do you mean about past feelings?” Colton asks, leaning against the table I have in the front with my promotional materials on top.
“It’s nothing,” I say.
“The fact that she’s the only redhead in the Baileys,” Grandma kindly fills him in.
“Oh, that,” Colton says, crossing his arms, his gaze shifting to the picture of Aunt Etta.
I know exactly what he thinks about matchmaking being passed down to me from my ancestors. It doesn’t match up with his scientific beliefs.
He pushes off the table. “I gotta go.”
“Where are you going?” I ask, figuring lunch since it’s almost noon now.
“Oh, that’s why we came in here. I found Colton right as he was leaving the office. You have to go with him. I’ll watch the office.” She shoos me out of my chair.
I stand, panic like a hot poker in the stomach because of what’s in that drawer. Grandma Dori is a snoop and she’ll find my bills.
“I can close the office, but where are you going?” I ask Colton because I’m more likely to get the answer from him.