Page 6 of Beautiful Mess

“Not if I send her home with the last lemon layer cake in the case out there.” She huffs out a small laugh. “It’s her favorite.”

“Deal. Thank you so much.”

Waving me off, she says, “Hey, it’s what you pay me for. Now, get out of here.”

After I toss my dirty apron in the hamper in the laundry room, I grab my keys and purse, making sure my phone is tucked away in there, and run out the door. Luckily, the school is only a three-minute drive from the bakery, but three minutes or twenty, I’m still late, no matter how you look at it. Pulling into a spot, I jump out of the car and run toward the entrance. In my quick haste, I shove my keys into my purse, but as I do, I accidentally set off the alarm.

“Oh, for crying out loud.” Fumbling with the key fob, I look over my shoulder as I press the button to shut the annoying sound off, and as my luck would have it today, I collide right into something. Or rather, someone. Whipping my head back around, my mood declines even further as I look at the man I ran into.

“Typically, if you’re running, you should pay attention in front of you, not behind,” Conway drawls in that infuriatingly smug, grumbly way he does.

“Obviously,” I sneer, tossing the keys back into my purse now that the alarm is silenced. “I know you’re getting old, and your hearing is probably going bad, but I’m sure you heard the blaring noise that was my car alarm.”

“You’re pleasant as ever this evening, I see,” he deadpans as he holds the door open for me. It’s maddening.

Not as maddening as the fact that he looks ridiculously hot. Clearly, he just came from the job site. His graphite t-shirt has tiny holes from wear around the collar and the hem and it’s covered in dried paint, along with his worn-out jeans and scuffed up steel-toe work boots. He’s a mess, and if it were anybody else, they’d look disgusting. But Conway, the very bane of my goddamn existence? Well, of course, he looks mouthwatering, which only adds to my annoyance.

In the gym, where the meetings are held, I groan to myself when I take in how full it is. My face heats as nearly every person in this room turns to check out who’s walking in tardy.Jesus, is every single parent in the entire school here tonight?

“So nice of you both to join us,” Maggie freaking Ulrich calls out from the front, standing behind a podium like she’s the President of the United States about to give a press conference, not lead the Blossom Beach Elementary School PTA meeting. “Please take a seat so we can resume.”

Conway gestures in front of him, wearing a grin I want to sucker punch off his obnoxiously attractive face. “After you,” he drawls.

Fuck his southern gentleman manners. They can go to hell right alongside him and Maggie.

It takes a few seconds max to realize the only available seats are right next to each other in the very back of the room.Lovely.I drop down into the uncomfortable plastic folding chair, grinding my molars as Conway does the same beside me. He’s a massive guy, at least six-foot-two, maybe three, and husky. Even with my legs crossed and me trying to stay as far away from him as possible, his thigh still invades my space. It doesn’t help that he’s manspreading like he’s in a freaking recliner about to watch Sunday football.

Maggie clears her throat from behind the podium, and when I lift my gaze, I find her already watching me. Of course she is. Whatever she’s about to say is going to send me over the edge, I know it. With a fake smile plastered on her face, she says, “To catch you both up to speed, we were assigning tasks to each parent for the year. Unlike last year, where we assigned and re-assessed each quarter, the ladies and I have decided it would be easiest to assign for the whole year.”

The ladies,referring to Maggie’s posse of judgmental, holier-than-thou friends, Trisha Taylor and Carly-Anne Peters, the Vice President and Secretary of the PTA. Also known as Maggie’s little minions.

Annoyance fills my veins as her attention remains solely focused on me. Lifting a thumbs-up in the air, I say, “Sounds good, Mag-Pie. Think I’m plenty up to speed now.”

Out of the corner of my eye, I watch Conway scrub a hand over his mouth as he clears his throat, presumably trying to hide a chuckle.

Annoying.

Maggie narrows her eyes at the sound of the nickname she picked up in college and has always hated. “Yes, well, we were nearly finished assigning tasks before you graced us with your presence, but lucky for you, there’s still one task left.”

So lucky for me.

“The responsibility of organizing the fundraisers for the year is up for grabs, and as I’m sure you’re aware, Grace and Conway, fundraisers and help from our generous community are what run this school and assist in giving our kids the fun activities and field trips they deserve without expecting too much from the parents. It’s a big responsibility.”

I fight the urge to roll my eyes. I don’t like where this is going, especially since she addressed both of us.

“Therefore,” she continues, “I’m assigning that task to the two of you. It’s a great deal of planning and organizing, and it’s far too much work for one person to handle. Besides, I know how flustered you get when you’re overwhelmed, Grace.”This bitch.“Expect an email from me later tonight regarding what all this task entails.” And then she adds while giving us a satisfied smirk, “I think I speak for all the parents when I say, I’m looking forward to seeing what you both come up with together.”

My eye twitches as she finishes the rest of the meeting, the vein in my neck throbbing as I think over how miserable this year is going to be, having to partner with Conway. Not only is he the bane of my existence, but he’s also a man. Expecting him to do anything more than the bare minimum will be like pulling teeth, I’m sure of it.

Why the hell couldn’t I have been on time for once?

Two

Conway

Fuck.

I can’t decide if I’m amused about having to be paired up with Grace or ticked off. Maybe it’s a bit of both. On the one hand, ruffling her feathers is always satisfying because it’s just so easy to do, but on the other hand, she’s a mess. She’s scatterbrained, even on the best of days, not to mention she’s always,alwayslate. If there’s one thing in this town that you can count on, it’s that Grace Astor will never be on time. Having a kid in the same grade as one of her two, I’ve been to many meetings, birthday parties, and gatherings where she’s been late.

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