Page 13 of Costume Party Crush
“Want me to get his number?”
I studied the photo for a moment, then shook my head. “Naw.”
“You sure?”
“Seems an asshole move to call a man on his work phone to ask him on a date.”
“Whatever.”
We paused to give the waitress our order, and Lowell moved on to another topic.
“You’re coming to the benefit party, right?”
I blinked. “Hmm?”
He laughed. “I guess I forgot to mention it. One of the juniors in Sean’s department wanted a small event of their own to plan, and the art museum called at almost the same time, asking if he could spare anybody since their event coordinator was on maternity leave. They wanted some kind of benefit. The timing was perfect, so the new kid went off on loan to the museum. What he came up with wasn’t half-bad either. He convinced the museum admin to have a costume party since the exhibit they wanted to fund is something to do with historical clothing.”
I nodded. “Seems solid.”
Lowell smiled. “Kid did a good job, and Sean’s hoping for a nice turnout.” He rummaged in his pocket and pulled out his wallet, then handed over a red slip of paper. “There ya go. It’s a ticket.”
“How much?”
Lowell waved me off. “Sean had a small handful that he was given, so we’re giving them to friends and such to bolster the numbers.”
“You sure? I can pay.”
“There will be a donation box at the benefit too. Drop it in there.”
I shrugged and slid the ticket into my own wallet. “Fair enough.”
“Just show up and have fun. Sean says the kid has potential, but has a nasty case of imposter syndrome, so he thinks seeing a good turnout will bolster his confidence.”
“That’s sweet.”
Lowell grinned in that goofy way he always did when anybody complimented his mate. Even years later he was just as in love as he’d been when they finally got together.
I hoped that eventually I would have that kind of connection.
Lunch arrived and we chatted about other random things before Lowell had to leave to discuss the easement problems with his client.
I was about to follow him out when my eyes fell on the newspaper again. I snagged it on impulse, determined to read the article about the windows.
And the man who’d painted them.
Chapter 7 - Kaleb
Iopened my post box and pulled out a stack of mail. The first few envelopes were obvious junk, then I saw the city emblem on an envelope. I tucked the rest of my mail under my arm and tore it open.
I’d sent my invoice to Sean with a nervous twinge in my middle. It had been the single-largest one I’d ever written, and part of me was concerned that the city would come back and want to negotiate.
I pulled out a piece of paper, which was a copy of my invoice, then a check—written for the billed amount.
I stared for several seconds, confirming that it was real. That one check was more than I made in average non-holiday months.
Then I did a happy dance. It would be a solid buffer sitting in my bank account, ensuring that I would be able to pay rent during the slow months.
I shifted to put everything back in the envelope, but noticed a red slip of paper inside. I turned the envelope and shook it out.
