“Ladies and gentlemen, the world-famous Hot Landscaper Guy,” she teased.
Those brown eyes went soft and warm every damn time he surprised her with a gift or a snack or a kiss. And like clockwork, he could see her pull herself back. He knew how to read signs. He also knew how to detour around them.
“Hey, Sy,” Cody said without looking up from the tablet.
“English essay?” Silas asked.
“His essay on Campbell’s Canyon Secrets that’s due to be uploaded in mere minutes,” Maggie told him with a wink. “Cody’s playing perfectionist.”
“Said the woman with a six-foot whiteboard that details every step it takes to get a project to perfection,” Silas teased.
“Ha. Burn.” Cody snorted.
“You leave my whiteboard alone,” she said, pointing a finger at Silas. “And you have one minute to upload that paper,” she said, moving that same finger into Cody’s line of sight.
“Speaking of the whiteboard, Mags,” Silas began. “Looks like you’re almost two full days ahead of schedule.”
“It’s all about the momentum,” she said, keeping an eye on her watch. “If this keeps up, we might even finish early.”
Which would put the house on the market early. Which would put her in her pickup and on the road to her next house early.
Short of sabotage, Silas wasn’t going to let that happen.
“Morning, folks,” Jim said, sauntering into the kitchen.
“Morning,” they chorused.
“You tell her yet?” Jim asked Silas.
“Tell me what? Cody, hit upload, or I’ll do it for you,” Maggie said.
With a nervous breath, Cody stabbed at the screen and then dropped the tablet on the counter. “It’s done. I think I’m going to barf.”
“You wrote a great essay. You did the work. Now it’s out of your hands, and you’ve got to let it go. Trust the work to get you the result,” she told him.
“If I don’t get at least a C, I’m screwed. No graduation. Summer school.”
Maggie placed a hand over Cody’s. “You are officially cut off from what-ifs. Now, go catch the bus and text me when you get your trig quiz back.”
“Yes, ma’am,” he said on a groan and walked slump-shouldered out the door.
“Tell me what?” Maggie demanded, taking her mug over to the dish bin that one of the residents of the Old Campbell Place would carry to a bathroom sink to eventually wash.
“Well, you see, Maggie,” Jim began. “We have a little tradition around here.”
She crossed her arms and raised a skeptical eyebrow. He knew it was going to be a hard sell. “It’s a Bonus Day,” Silas said.
“Bonus Day?” she repeated. “Are you all asking for bonuses?”
“No. We’re giving our crews the day off with pay,” Silas explained.
“Why?” Maggie asked.
“It’s tradition,” Jim said.
“We take the nicest day of the season and—if we’re ahead of schedule—we give our crews the day to spend it however they want.”
“With pay?”
He nodded. “With pay.”
“I don’t understand,” Maggie said. She looked like she was waiting for a punch line.
“You ever play hooky when you were in school, Mags?” Silas asked.
“Of course not,” she scoffed.
“I think I hear a car,” Jim said, slipping out the French doors. He mouthed good luck to Silas on his way.
“You never wished you were outside enjoying the sun on your face instead of cooped up in a classroom listening to lectures?” Silas pressed, advancing on her until he had her caged between his arms, back to the refrigerator.
“I suppose,” she admitted.
“This is us giving our people permission to play hooky. And this is my opportunity to take you on a real date.”
“You can date me after work hours,” she said dryly.
He grinned down at her. “You sure make me want to kiss you when you’re hell-bent on being responsible.”
“I still don’t know how you talked me into this,” she grumbled from his passenger seat.
“I’m very persuasive,” Silas informed her.
“I think you hypnotized me with your tongue.”
“I appreciate your awe of my oral skills,” he said, patting her knee with his hand before taking the exit on the highway.
“I could have gotten started on the porch trim today. I could be skimming some of the ancestry books Wallace recommended. I could be looking for more gold coins around the house.”