Almost Like Being in Love by Beth K. Vogt Page B

stage to claim their prizes.
    She was almost to the door, her gaze focused on the lighted green exit sign, when the crowd erupted again, celebrating the final winner of the day. Hooray. She imagined some lucky girl was now vaulting onto the stage to hug Tuxedo Guy while friends and complete strangers jumped up and down and applauded.
    Just as she stepped outside, the first hint of Colorado air a welcome relief after hours of stale air filled with marital merriment, someone grabbed both her arms, pulling her to a stop.
    Caron whirled around and came face-to-face with Brooke and Leslie, who seemed determined to drag her back inside and toward the stage.
    â€œWhat are you doing?” Caron dug her heels into the thin layer of carpeting. “I told you, I’m going to wait outside.”
    â€œYou won, Caron. You won!” Leslie took her other hand and joined Brooke in towing her back to the stage.
    â€œI won—”
    â€œDidn’t you hear your name announced? You won the Colorado destination wedding!”
    â€œYou have a lousy sense of humor.” Caron scanned the stage, spotting Margo and Emma standing beside the emcee bathed in the white spotlight, motioning her forward. They weren’t kidding. “I don’t want it. Tell them to give the prize to Margo.”
    â€œMargo already told them that we were going to get you. Go claim your wedding. Won’t your boyfriend be surprised when you tell him?”

FIVE

    W ork—the great distractor.
    Except there wasn’t much to fix here.
    Alex rubbed his forearm across his forehead, rocking back on his heels as he contemplated the air-conditioning unit in front of him. The SOLD sign still planted in the front yard meant a home inspector okayed the thing—and after cycling the unit through, it was running just fine. Despite the mechanical puzzle sitting right in front of him, his mind wandered back to earlier this morning.
    Caron had quit her job. And despite his protests, she’d accepted Margo’s invitation, disappearing into the slow-moving line of passengers making their way through security at Denver International Airport. His day had started hours before he ever saw his first client.
    â€œExcuse me.”
    At the sound of a woman’s voice behind him, Alex twisted around, maintaining his balance by putting his hand on the patchy grass that covered the backyard.
    â€œOh, I’m so sorry.”The homeowner who’d answered the door when he arrived backed away, sloshing water out of the blue plastic cup onto the ground. “I thought you might be thirsty.”
    â€œThanks. I am at that.” He rose to his feet, towering over her like a modern-day giant.
    â€œSo how’s it look?” She walked around the air conditioner as if she could figure out what was wrong. “Can you fix it so it doesn’t keep tripping the breaker?”
    â€œI cycled it through and it seems fine now, ma’am.” The ice water eased his dry throat, even as the midday sun caused a slow trickle of sweat between his shoulder blades.
    â€œOh, call me Jessica, please.” Her smile seemed genuine. Friendly, not flirtatious. “I just don’t know why it keeps tripping the breaker and then it won’t restart. You’re the second repairman to come out and check it.”
    â€œCompressor could be going bad. That’s your worst-case scenario. If this continues to happen, you might need to replace it.”
    The woman smoothed the hem of her plain yellow T-shirt, shading her eyes. “How much would that cost?”
    â€œFor this size house? You’re looking at a three-ton unit. So, about twenty-five hundred dollars.”
    Her face blanched, her eyes widening behind her silver wire-rimmed glasses. “I’d like to avoid that expense if I could.” When she twisted her fingers together, he noted she didn’t wear a wedding ring. Probably single. A first-time homeowner. Sunk all her