Page 59 of The Serendipity

“Is this just until Bellamy gets back?”

Archer shakes his head. “Bellamy mostly handles things related to my business in New York. He won’t be helping much with the day-to-day operations here, and that’s what I need. Someone who knows the area and the building and is good with details and … people.”

It’s a job, the lobsters seem to be telling me.Stop questioning it and say yes!

Honestly, the idea of a job practically has me salivating. I won’t have to think about moving—or worse, moving home.

Working with Archer, however, I’m less sure of. For multiple reasons. His prickly personality, for one, and the fact that he is the reason Ineeda job.

Then there are the moments, fueled by some kind of temporary insanity, in which I feel a sharp tug of attraction to Archer. I definitely don’t want to put myself in a position to encourage any ofthatnonsense.

“How do you knowI’mgood at those things?” I ask.

“Your cookies,” he says simply.

“My cookies?”

“Baking is precise. So is your attention to detail in decorating.”

“Oh. Thanks.” My cheeks feel suddenly too warm.

“And just about anyone is better at dealing with people than me.”

I can’t help it. I snort. Then cover my mouth.

Archer looks shocked for a moment, then there’s that tiny tilt in his lips again. Not a half smile, but a quarter smile.

“Would this be full-time? Part-time? Benefits?”

“Whatever you need it to be.”

“Short-term or long-term?”

“Again, it could be either. I know you have your business to run.”

Ha! That’s where he’s wrong.

Although working for Archer would buy me some time to make Serendipitous Sweets profitable. Maybe I could even negotiate working in the commercial kitchen as part of the package.

“One of your tasks could be to find a longer-term replacement for you so you can focus on your business. Or if you’d like to stay on, we can consider this on a trial basis.”

“What would my duties be?”

To his credit, Archer answers all my questions without any hint that he’s frustrated or impatient. “At first, putting out a number of fires. I can’t seem to get anyone to call me back, and I need a service to clean the building, an exterminator for the opossums, a plumber for the backed-up sink on the third floor. As well as some things that would fall more under the role of a personal assistant. Taking messages, completing simple administrative tasks.”

“Okay,” I find myself saying. “Yes. But I have a condition.”

“Only one?”

I can’t tell if he’s teasing or not, so I just barrel on as though he’s not. “I’d like to have use of the commercial kitchen be a part of the employment package.”

His jaw flexes once. Irritation? Begrudging respect?

A toothache?

“You can have that regardless of whether you accept the job. Any other conditions?”

I desperately want to add a laundry list of them since he’s being so accommodating, but his response momentarily shocks me into silence.

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