shrugged. “A stage is easy. I could build an octagonal house if you wanted one.”
“By the end of the week?”
“The stage, sure; the house, probably not.” He looked at me and made a gesture toward Abigail with one hand. “Tell her.”
“I’ve never seen this man before in my life,” I said solemnly.
Andrew glared at me with mock annoyance. “Very funny, Kath.”
I grinned at him and turned to Abigail. “He could build pretty much any shape stage you wanted. He could build one in the shape of a nonagon if that’s what you wanted and do it almost as well as Harry.”
“Hang on.” Andrew held up one hand. “What the heck is a nonagon?”
“A nine-sided polygon,” Abigail and I said at the same time. We looked at each other and laughed.
Andrew rolled his eyes. “Great. I have Encyclopedia Brown times two.” He turned to Abigail. “So do I have the job?”
“I’m not sure,” she said. “For all I know you could start building the stage and then disappear.”
“I could,” he agreed, stuffing his hands in the pockets of his jeans, “but I won’t. Tell me what size you want the stage to be and I’ll draw a plan tonight. If you’re happy with it, I’ll get you a list of materials tomorrow. As soon as you can get everything delivered, I can start. I’d take care of the supplies myself, but since I don’t know any of the building supply stores around here, it would probably be faster if someone else does that. As for my time, I’ll donate that.”
Abigail looked at him suspiciously. “Why?”
“Because I’m a nice guy?” He phrased it as a question.
She leaned against the counter and thought about his words for a moment. “No,” she said with a small shake of her head. “I don’t think that’s it.”
Andrew’s gaze shot to me. He shrugged. “Okay, the truth is, I’m wooing Kathleen.”
Abigail’s eyebrows went up, more from amusement than surprise. “Really?”
He nodded. “I was stupid enough to let her get away before, but I came to my senses and I plan to spend the next two weeks changing her mind about me. If I help you, that will make me look good to her and heaven knows I need all the help I can get in that department.”
Abigail turned toward me. “Is this all true?”
“Yes, it is,” I said, pulling at the top edge of the nylon sling, which was rubbing against the inside of my arm. “Andrew and I used to be a couple, before I came to Mayville Heights. We had a . . . falling-out.”
Her eyes immediately went to Andrew. “I sort of . . . accidentally married someone else,” he said, at least having the good grace to look a little shamefaced.
“Yeah, I hate it when that happens,” Abigail said dryly.
“He has the idea that he can convince me to go back to Boston with him when my contract here expires,” I said.
“Can he?”
“I don’t think so.” I glanced at my watch. Andrew and I needed to get on our way if we were going to have time to walk through both tents.
Abigail reached for her bag and swung the strap over her shoulder. “It seems to me that you and I may be working at cross-purposes,” she said to Andrew, “because I want Kathleen to stay here. On the other hand, I’ve never been one to say no to free labor and I think watching you—as you put it—woo Kathleen is probably going to be fairly entertaining. So, thank you. I accept your offer.”
She grabbed a piece of paper and a pencil off the desk, scribbled something on the paper and handed it to him. “I need a stage that’s twelve feet wide and between four and six inches off the ground. Bring whatever plan you come up with to the Stratton Theater tomorrow morning about eight and we’ll go from there.” She smiled at me. “Have fun at the food tasting,” she said, and then she headed for the second floor.
Andrew didn’t say a word until we were on the way to the Riverwalk. “Are you mad because I told your friend about us?” he asked.
“No,” I said.
“Are you
“By the end of the week?”
“The stage, sure; the house, probably not.” He looked at me and made a gesture toward Abigail with one hand. “Tell her.”
“I’ve never seen this man before in my life,” I said solemnly.
Andrew glared at me with mock annoyance. “Very funny, Kath.”
I grinned at him and turned to Abigail. “He could build pretty much any shape stage you wanted. He could build one in the shape of a nonagon if that’s what you wanted and do it almost as well as Harry.”
“Hang on.” Andrew held up one hand. “What the heck is a nonagon?”
“A nine-sided polygon,” Abigail and I said at the same time. We looked at each other and laughed.
Andrew rolled his eyes. “Great. I have Encyclopedia Brown times two.” He turned to Abigail. “So do I have the job?”
“I’m not sure,” she said. “For all I know you could start building the stage and then disappear.”
“I could,” he agreed, stuffing his hands in the pockets of his jeans, “but I won’t. Tell me what size you want the stage to be and I’ll draw a plan tonight. If you’re happy with it, I’ll get you a list of materials tomorrow. As soon as you can get everything delivered, I can start. I’d take care of the supplies myself, but since I don’t know any of the building supply stores around here, it would probably be faster if someone else does that. As for my time, I’ll donate that.”
Abigail looked at him suspiciously. “Why?”
“Because I’m a nice guy?” He phrased it as a question.
She leaned against the counter and thought about his words for a moment. “No,” she said with a small shake of her head. “I don’t think that’s it.”
Andrew’s gaze shot to me. He shrugged. “Okay, the truth is, I’m wooing Kathleen.”
Abigail’s eyebrows went up, more from amusement than surprise. “Really?”
He nodded. “I was stupid enough to let her get away before, but I came to my senses and I plan to spend the next two weeks changing her mind about me. If I help you, that will make me look good to her and heaven knows I need all the help I can get in that department.”
Abigail turned toward me. “Is this all true?”
“Yes, it is,” I said, pulling at the top edge of the nylon sling, which was rubbing against the inside of my arm. “Andrew and I used to be a couple, before I came to Mayville Heights. We had a . . . falling-out.”
Her eyes immediately went to Andrew. “I sort of . . . accidentally married someone else,” he said, at least having the good grace to look a little shamefaced.
“Yeah, I hate it when that happens,” Abigail said dryly.
“He has the idea that he can convince me to go back to Boston with him when my contract here expires,” I said.
“Can he?”
“I don’t think so.” I glanced at my watch. Andrew and I needed to get on our way if we were going to have time to walk through both tents.
Abigail reached for her bag and swung the strap over her shoulder. “It seems to me that you and I may be working at cross-purposes,” she said to Andrew, “because I want Kathleen to stay here. On the other hand, I’ve never been one to say no to free labor and I think watching you—as you put it—woo Kathleen is probably going to be fairly entertaining. So, thank you. I accept your offer.”
She grabbed a piece of paper and a pencil off the desk, scribbled something on the paper and handed it to him. “I need a stage that’s twelve feet wide and between four and six inches off the ground. Bring whatever plan you come up with to the Stratton Theater tomorrow morning about eight and we’ll go from there.” She smiled at me. “Have fun at the food tasting,” she said, and then she headed for the second floor.
Andrew didn’t say a word until we were on the way to the Riverwalk. “Are you mad because I told your friend about us?” he asked.
“No,” I said.
“Are you
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