Page 30 of Filthy Little Midlife Fling

“Agnes didn’t seem too worried,” I say, then clamp my lips shut.

But Dorothy doesn’t look insulted. She throws her head back and laughs, then hooks her arm around my elbow and tows me toward the corner table. “Fiona! Simone! Boys! Meet our very own Organizing Goddess.”

“Audrey Scott,” I supply.

“Audrey!” Dorothy repeats with a smile. “She’s the one who crashed into Remy’s magnolia tree last week.”

My head bursts into flame. I give them all a stupid little wave in an attempt to hide how embarrassed I am. “Hi. Nice to meet you.”

“Oh!” the beautiful, latecomer woman says—Georgia, someone called her. “I follow you on socials.”

I smile, a little kernel of pride glowing in my chest. “Yeah? Thank you.”

“I started folding my towels the way you showed, and my linen closet has never looked better.”

“It makes a difference to have a system,” I say, which is something I say so often I’ll probably have it engraved on my tombstone.

“Your website says you do closet reorganization,” Georgia asks, tucking a strand of hair behind her ear. “Is that right?”

My spine straightens. “I do! We do a simple tidy or a full redesign. Usually I offer an on-site consultation so I can figure out what suits your needs best, and then we can schedule you in. It can take anywhere from a half day to several days, depending on the size of the job.” I dip my hand into my purse and come out with a business card. “Here.”

“Amazing!” Georgia beams at me. “I’ll be in touch.”

“Audrey?” the barista calls out, sliding two iced drinks onto the counter beside the espresso machine.

I jab my thumb at the drinks. “Those are mine. Feel free to call if you have any questions.”

“Will do,” Georgia says, and I leave the group to their conversation.

It’s not until I’m outside that I let my lips curl into a victorious smile. Terry who? I don’t need to work for my ex-husband. I can find new clients on my own! And judging by how close-knit that group was, if Georgia hires me and is happy with my services, she might gush to all her friends.

I slot the tray with both iced drinks into the front basket of my bicycle, then glance at the cherry-red scooter parked next to the curb. Maybe I should get one of those. Although, on second thought, flying off a scooter wouldn’t be so great if I happened to have a run-in with another magnolia tree.

Huffing, I sling my leg over the seat and pedal to the garage. When I get there, Remy is poking around under the hood of my work van. I present him with the iced latte I got for him and smile. “How’s it looking?”

“Thank you,” he says, accepting the drink. He stares at it for a moment, then lifts his gaze to me. “You didn’t have to get me anything.”

“I figured it was safer than letting you carry the drinks around.” I grin, trying to make him laugh, but I’m surprised when his cheeks grow pink.

This big, burly man is blushing. Because of me.

I can’t hide the widening of my smile. “So, the van?”

“Right.” He clears his throat. “I’ve fixed the leak and replaced the brake pads. Just need to realign the wheels, do the steering column, and replace the tires. Then I’ll bring it to the body shop to fix the cosmetic damage. Should be ready in a couple of days.”

I narrow my eyes. “I’m not sure you’re sticking to our bargain,” I tell him.

He sucks a bit of iced coffee through his straw and regards me with dark eyes. “Oh?”

“You seem to be doing at least as much work as I am. If I recall, it was meant to be two hours of my work for one hour of yours.”

He leans against the front of my van, which puts him a few inches closer to me. I don’t move back, enjoying the heat of his body—and his gaze. When Remy speaks, his voice is low. “I’m sure we can come to a new arrangement.”

Yes! my body shrieks, but I school my features enough to pop a brow. “Your cutlery drawer does need work.”

He flashes me a grin, and his eyes give me a dark, heated glance. He looks like he’s thinking about sex, and I feature prominently in it. I feel the heat of that look right between my thighs.

“I wasn’t talking about cutlery, Audrey.”

---