LITMIR.BIZ

      CHAPTER THREE

      ON THE WEDNESDAY MORNING after her arrival, Brynn took a deep breath and walked into Taylor’s office in preparation for her first meeting with the entire North clan. She had been in and out of the office over the past couple of days and been introduced to all the players, but this would be her first real test. Her stomach danced a slow jig of anticipation. She’d gone over all the materials given to her by Taylor and had pulled together some ideas that she knew were solid. The hard part would be convincing the family members that she wasn’t trying to get rid of their plans, but rather wanted to focus on the best ones.

      The really hard part would be to get through this meeting without being a total bitch to Carter. Logically, she knew that none of this was his fault, and that he was unaware of Taylor’s dilemma. But logic didn’t keep her from thinking that everything would be fine if he would just get lost. Or maybe meet someone and run off to Vegas. Or do something so devoid of morals that Taylor would never again look at him with anything other than disgust.

      That was Brynn’s personal favorite scenario. After all, it had taken just one act of supremely selfish moral cowardice to shred her love for her father. Imagine what such an act could do to a mere crush?

      Taylor was alone. She sat behind her desk with a faraway look on her face, barely stirring when Brynn walked in.

      “Morning,” she said softly. Taylor merely blinked.

      “Hello? Taylor?” Brynn waved her hand in front of her cousin’s face, grinning at the way Taylor startled. “Welcome back to the land of the living.”

      “Sorry. I was...”

      “Long, long ago, in a galaxy far, far away?”

      “Something like that.”

      The words were light. The misery in Taylor’s eyes was not.

      “Hey.” Brynn glanced into the hall, but seeing no one approaching, she took the chance of slipping around the desk and giving Taylor a light squeeze around the shoulders. “We’ll get through this. I won’t leave you, I promise.”

      Taylor smiled faintly and poked at the papers in front of her. “I know. I’m so glad you’re here.”

      “Me, too.” Even though she hated the circumstances, she wanted—needed—to be here. Wait and see were not words she could live by, at least not when it came to her family. She had to help.

      Her father used to tell her that the world would keep spinning if she sat down, but she never quite believed him. Maybe because he usually followed it up with, Get out of here, Brynn. You’re not needed. And a laugh that never quite struck her as funny.

      She shook away the memory and pulled a flash drive from her pocket. “Here you go. The next step in Operation Sleeping Beauty.”

      Taylor shook her head but smiled as she took it. “What is it, a how-to manual?”

      “Music. The songs you associate with him, plus some from when we were silly romantic teens for good measure.”

      “Thanks.” But there was little enthusiasm in Taylor’s voice as she dropped the device into her purse.

      This wasn’t good. Brynn knew her efforts wouldn’t be an overnight success, but she had hoped for a slightly more encouraging reaction.

      “While we have a minute, I need some more info. Tell me about food.”

      “Brynn, I really don’t think this is going to—”

      “Taylor, you promised to give this your all. So all up, kid. What foods?”

      “Well...he’s a pretty typical guy. Steak. Shrimp. Pasta.”

      Brynn shook her head. “Deeper. What foods did you prepare for him? Where did you go to eat? Did he ever feed you cotton candy or kiss chocolate off your mouth or anything like that?”

      “Isn’t this just a little bit kinky?”

      “Oh, yeah. I really get off on hearing the details of my cousin’s sex life, you betcha.” When Taylor blushed, Brynn hurried on. “Look, I know this isn’t comfortable for either of us. But food is highly associated with romance, so if I’m going to do my job, I need to know what kinds of things you—”

      “Hot chocolate.”

      “Sorry?”

      “Hot chocolate. I’m always cold in the winter and he made it for me.”

      Brynn stole a piece of paper from Taylor’s desk and began scribbling notes. “Homemade or from a mix?”

      “Homemade, mostly. With a little almond syrup in it. Half and half.” She sighed. “He really does make it better than anyone else.”

      “Did you have a special mug?”

      “Mmm, no. Just whatever was handy.”

      “Marshmallows or whipped cream?”

      “Whipped—” she began, then broke off in another blush. Brynn assessed her over the rims of her half-glasses.

      “Seriously?”

      Taylor’s shrug was as fluid and graceful as everything else she did. “What can I say? He would make a big bowl of whipped cream, and there was always tons left over, and, you know, waste not, want not.”

      “I think I get the picture.” And now she would never be able to get it out of her mind, unfortunately.

      “Um...Baileys Irish Cream has some pretty potent associations, too.”

      “Okay, I think that gives me plenty of material.” But Taylor was in her own world again.

      “Kung pao chicken. And doughnuts. How did I forget those? Oh, yeah. Ian has a real fondness for doughnuts. But only ones with a hole in the middle, if you get my—”

      She stopped abruptly. Brynn looked up from her notes, ready to give thanks to whatever deity had brought this rush of Too Much Information to a halt, but stopped when she saw the look of utter horror on Taylor’s face as she stared at the door.

      Say it isn’t so.

      When she turned to follow Taylor’s gaze, Brynn saw exactly what she had feared most: the doorway was filled with Norths, covering the whole spectrum of emotions. Moxie sported a sly smile, Carter had his eyes closed as if in agony, and Hank—Hank wasn’t looking at Taylor but at Brynn. His face was carefully blank, but there was a glint of intense curiosity in his eyes. It was almost as if he had been waiting for her to chime in with stories of her own creative uses for food.

      A small sound from the other side of the desk brought Brynn’s attention back to where it was supposed to be: Taylor, the job, making a professional impression on these people who had entrusted her with their celebration.

      Silence hung over them. No one seemed capable of speech. Brynn realized that if anyone was going to get them through this, it had to be her.

      Long months of caring for her two younger brothers while their mother was sick had taught her that a bright smile and brisk attitude conveyed confidence that usually reassured others, if not herself. She shoved the paper in her pocket and turned to the door. Big smile. Breezy confidence. Play the part.

      “Mrs. North. Good to see you again. You, too, Carter, Hank. Taylor has told me about your thoughts for the festival, and they sound fabulous. I’m looking forward to bringing them to life. Now, I know you were thinking of horse-and-buggy rides, but did you have any

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