I tap my finger to my chin, my mind already swirling with ideas. “Do I have your permission to try to pull a couple things together to meet these needs?”
“By all means. This is your project now. Sink or swim, it’s all you.”
I square my shoulders. I can swim. “What else do I need to know?”
I get out my tablet to take notes as Heather starts ticking off contacts around town who’ll be helping me pull this event together.
“You’ll want to talk to Collin at the police department about security. Inez at the bakery is great. She’ll help you coordinate the food trucks. Don’t wait to book porta-potties.”
I chuckle, but my laugh dies on my lips at Heather’s serious look.
“I mean it. They’re essential to the day’s success. As for getting the park itself ready—”
A knock on the door stops Heather mid-sentence.
“Come in,” she calls.
The door swings open, and I turn and find myself looking at my next-door neighbor—or, as I’ve recently discovered, my landlord.
And also Holland’s older brother.
The man who saw me practically naked.
Peachy.
“Oh, good, Mack, you’re here.” Heather stands from behind her desk to greet him, but Mack waves her off.
“Sit down.”
She huffs and begrudgingly does as she’s told. “I’m pregnant, not incapacitated.”
“Still, no need to be a hero.” Mack strides into the room and takes a seat in the chair next to mine. I catch a whiff of his minty scent, same as it was this morning. So much for my hope that I wouldn’t have to see this guy too often.
“Poppy, this is Mack. Mack, Poppy.”
I shoot Mack a look. He’s staring back at me, and this is the first time I can see his eyes. When Holland introduced us earlier this morning, Mack was still wearing his baseball cap. He shook my hand and then gave Holland and me some space. I appreciated that.
Now, he’s without his hat, and his eyes laser into mine.
I don’t know what I expected, but I guess I figured he’d resemble Holland, who’s got these golden-brown eyes that remind me of maple syrup. But that’s not what I see when my gaze latches onto Mack’s.
His eyes are charcoal gray. Like they were once lit, but the fire has been snuffed out.
“We’ve met.” I extend my hand to him and try to arrange my face into an expression to match the moment. How do you say, Hey, you’ve seen me in my bath towel, and that was weird for both of us, but let’s please forget it ever happened and move on, with a look and a smile?
Mack shakes my hand and nods once before turning his attention back to Heather.
“Of course.” She looks up to the ceiling like she’s kicking herself for not putting it together. “The Holland connection.”
Mack grunts, and I beam.
“That should make things easier, then. Mack knows everyone in town, Poppy. You can go to him with any issues or concerns. He’s in charge of getting the park in order for the day of the event. You two are going to be working together closely to make sure the Party in the Park goes off without a hitch in my absence. I would suggest meeting regularly to ensure you’re on the same page. Mack, I’m counting on you to make sure nothing slips through the cracks. Poppy’s good. Her resume precedes her, but she’s not local. You know how things go around here.”
I might be imagining it, but Mack’s cheeks look like they’ve turned a pale shade of pink. He dips his chin in response to Heather.
I’m pretending to make notes on my tablet so that I look like I know what I’m doing. I do know what I’m doing. It’s just that Mack’s presence makes me a little nervous. If I’m being honest, I’d like for Holland’s family to like me.
I glance up and smile at Heather before cutting another look in Mack’s direction, doing my best to look polished and unflustered by our brief and embarrassing history. “Perfect. I appreciate any help you can provide, Mack.”
He grunts again. That seems to be his baseline. I swear the man has not spoken more than five combined words to me.
Heather’s door swings open, and a man I don’t recognize pops his head in. “Arnold, let’s have our meeting in my office.”
Heather nods. “Be right there, boss. First, let me introduce you to our newest employee. Poppy, this is Mayor Witmore.” She motions to me, and I stand, extending a hand. Mayor Witmore has a round belly, and he’s wearing a blue polo shirt that’s tucked into creased khaki pants. His cheeks are slightly rosy, and he’s got a receding hairline.
“Nice to meet you, sir.”
“You as well.” He offers me a genuine smile. “Holler if you need anything. Happy to have you on board.”
I warm at the welcome.
Heather makes to stand, looking between Mack and me. “You two will be great. Obviously, I’m around until I’m not”—she points at her watermelon-shaped belly—“so don’t be afraid to ask questions while I’m here, Poppy. I’m happy to be a resource. Then, Mack can take it from there.”
She makes her way out the door, and it snaps shut behind her.
I’m left sitting next to Mack, and the silence in the room is deafening. I need to do something to quell the awkwardness that’s threatening to suffocate me.
“Okay. Can I have a do-over?” I turn in my seat and hold out my hand for Mack. “I’m Poppy Kasper. It’s nice to meet you.”
Mack takes my proffered hand. “Kasper? Like the ghost?”
I crack a grin. “One and the same. Except with a K.”
“Alright then, Boo.” Mack stands and heads for the door.
“Wait.” I scramble from my seat and trail him into the hallway. “Did you call me Boo?”
“Yup.”
“Why?”
He pivots. “Kasper.”
He says my last name as if that’s the answer to everything.
I can feel my nose scrunching up. “You think I haven’t heard that before?”
He pauses in his stride. We’re almost to the front of the P&R building. He shrugs. “You probably have. It’s a perfect nickname.”
I put my hands on my hips. “What if I hate it?”
“Nicknames aren’t chosen by the named. They’re bestowed.”
I flinch back, both because that’s the longest single sentence he’s ever said to me, and because of his monotone delivery. It’s like he’s speaking gospel truth on the subject of naming rights. “So you’re going to call me Boo?”
“Plan on it, yep.”
“Well then, I’ll bestow a nickname on you.”
Mack grunts. “I’ve heard them all.”
“Mack Attack?” I study him. “No, that’s not it. Hmm.” I mull over my options. “Mack truck?” I let that one sit on my tongue for a bit. “Good, not great. Mack Daddy!” I frown. “No, that sounds somewhat risqué.”
He’s stopped in his quest to flee the building, and he’s staring at me now. If I didn’t know any better, I’d say his charcoal eyes are glistening with a hint of humor, like maybe I’m amusing him with this little exercise.