Perfect Match by Lila Monroe

Author:Lila Monroe [Monroe, Lila]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Lila Monroe Books
Published: 2017-11-12T18:00:00+00:00

17

McKenna

“Add a little more rum,” my almost-sister-in-law Maggie says. She bastes the turkey with practiced strokes.

I shake my head as she shoves the bird back in my nearly too tiny oven. “You’re the only person I know who bakes turkey with alcohol.”

Maggie waggles the baster at me. “Everything is better with alcohol.”

“Just ask her very satisfied customers,” Drew adds, giving her a hug from behind. He grins at me over Maggie’s shoulder. “And wait until you taste her Thanksgiving cranberry cupcakes. She’s been testing the recipe all week, and they have like, five bottles of vodka in them.”

“No way!” Maggie protests. “More like three.”

She winks, and I laugh. My brother and I usually do Thanksgiving back home, but Mom took off for Hawaii this year, so I invited the happy couple over here. And they are happy. I keep expecting the glow they have around each other to rub off on the furniture.

I love seeing both of them like this, but it does give me a wistful pang.

Drew goes back to peeling potatoes. “I’m glad I managed to get that last track laid down in time. The band wanted to work right through the holiday weekend. No sense of pacing themselves.”

“They want to get their big break like you did,” Maggie says. “And as soon as possible.”

“Well, I’m doing as much as a producer can. They’re a good act. They deserve to hit it big. But everyone needs a little downtime.”

“Like you were so good about that when you were the superstar,” I tease. He gives me a little jab with his elbow as he passes me. I turn to Maggie. “So do you get into pumpkin pies and all that for the season?” She runs a bakery back in Philly, and her main culinary expertise is pastries.

“Not pies,” Maggie says. “But pumpkin-flavored everything else. Pumpkin cupcakes! Pumpkin Danishes! Pumpkin croissants, because, why not? My favorite was the order I got last week for a custom pumpkin-spice cake, shaped and decorated to look like a pumpkin, complete with pumpkin-flavored icing. I swear, I’ll be happy if I never have to see—or smell—another pumpkin again. For at least eleven months.”

“You haven’t said much about your work, McKenna,” Drew asks. “I’m surprised you’re not more excited about getting that funding. How’s it been, working with this Jack Callahan?”

Infuriating. Intoxicating. Heart-wrenching.

Let’s not go there.

“Oh, you know, he’s the typical playboy, parties and fast cars,” I lie, hoping the warmth in my cheeks doesn’t show. “It took a while to get him serious about working together, but he saw the project’s worth in the end.”

Or at least the worth in putting an end to my unintentional hot-and-cold routine. It’s been a couple weeks, the paperwork has gone through, but we haven’t talked directly since that day in the Uber. It’s been all lawyers and assistants and vague emails about getting us set up in the Maverick infrastructure. Warren’s been salivating over the upgrades he can make to our tech, and Riley has been gushing about her sessions with his social media experts.

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