The Charm Offensive. Cari Lynn Webb

Sophie, they’d have done it to appease her. But Sophie’s priority was Ella’s safety and her friends recognized that, too.

      She spun around and faced her kitten rescuer. “You can get your dog food now. I’ve got this.”

      “Sophie, let Matt deal with that loaded cart,” Ruthie said.

      “Out of the way.” Matt’s strong hands landed on Sophie’s shoulders and stilled. “Brad?”

      Sophie’s customer leaned across the cart and reached for Matt’s hand. “I didn’t want to interrupt. This must be Dr. Ruthie Cain, the fiancée you can’t stop bragging about?”

      Ruthie’s voice echoed the happiness in her wide smile. “Still getting used to that.”

      “Ladies, this is Brad Harrington,” Matt said. “I’ve been a consultant for Brad going back several years now.”

      Matt wore stained jeans, a plaid button-down shirt and steel-toed boots for his part-time job renovating historic buildings in the city. He also spoke more than half-a-dozen languages fluently and primarily worked as a translator contracted to the United States government for secret missions that Sophie believed saved the world, but Matt never confirmed nor denied. He was quite simply a brilliant mind wrapped in a handsome package. Sophie shifted her attention to Brad in his jeans, pullover and dimpled smile.

      He was Matt’s friend. But she didn’t trust him and definitely didn’t want to know anything more about him. She was better off cataloguing Brad as that random kitten finder. “Do you work with Matt on his renovations or on his translation jobs?”

      “Matt has the gift with languages. I’m in security.” Brad edged around the cart, stepped behind the counter and picked up the security camera from the floor. “I make these work correctly.”

      Matt frowned at her. “Sophie, I could’ve introduced you to Brad a while ago. I thought you got that taken care of.”

      “The manual to install it made it sound easier than it is.” Sophie took the camera from Brad and set it on the counter. “I’ll get to it.”

      “I bet you haven’t fixed that front lower window yet, either.” Ruthie eyed the kitten box.

      “Some things came up.” Like the trip to Chicago for a second opinion on Ella’s eye surgery. There weren’t any extra funds for window repair. And now she was out of funds, thanks to her father. “It’s fine. The glass is taped and I added a piece of plywood on the inside.”

      “Anyone can kick that in,” Brad said.

      “That’s what I told her when she did it,” April added. The extra tablespoon of gracious, obliging customer service saturated any condescending dips in her tone.

      “Anyone can bust through the glass door if they really wanted to steal catnip.” Sophie scowled at Brad and willed him to be stiff and cold and abrasive like those expensive red heels she’d seen in the window display on Union Street. An alarm was quite low on her list of things to deal with. If she didn’t have a store, she wouldn’t need an alarm. She wanted to pull out her phone and see if her dad had replied. Or, better yet, keep calling him until he answered.

      “That’s why you need that installed.” Brad gripped the cart handle and pulled, rolling past her. His tone patient, his voice calm, his words all too reasonable.

      Sophie crammed her hands into the wide front pocket of her sweatshirt and tipped her chin up, defiance tumbling through her words. “Show me someone who will install it for free and I’ll get it done today.”

      “I’ll do it.” Brad smiled at her, distracting her with his dimple.

      Sophie paused. Hadn’t he heard her? “I can’t pay you.”

      “We’ll work out a trade.”

      “Other than dog food, I don’t have much to bargain with,” Sophie told him.

      “The only Harrington in need of dog food is Brad’s mother.” Matt guided the front of the cart down the dog-food aisle, then glanced at Brad. “Unless you broke your own vow and adopted a pet, following in your mother’s footsteps, after all.”

      Sophie watched Brad’s shoulders stiffen as if he’d been poked with a thick needle. He hadn’t liked Matt’s comment. Brad pressed his lips together as if to keep his response from flying free. And Sophie wanted to know what he refused to say. Sophie wanted to know about his family. Sophie wanted to know about this man.

      But that wasn’t right. She wasn’t interested in Brad. She’d given up on relationships and all that ten years ago when she’d climbed into the ambulance with her unconscious sister and her three-pound niece born with a drug addiction eight weeks too early. Love stories belonged to people like Ruthie and Matt. Sophie might dream about her own fairy tale in the darkest, quietest, loneliest hour of the night, but dawn always returned her to reality.

      Ruthie nudged Sophie. “Brad’s mother is the newly elected mayor of Pacific Hills. If you traveled down the coast at all last fall, you would’ve seen her campaign posters with the two greyhounds in shop windows and on the residents’ lawns throughout the entire town.”

      “Your mother is Mayor Harrington?” Sophie had vowed never to follow in her own mother’s shallow footsteps. But Brad’s mother was mayor of the coastal town south of the city. Surely being like Mrs. Harrington wasn’t a bad thing.

      “She is,” Brad admitted. “And I’m definitely not following in her footsteps.”

      His voice was tight and drew her in even more. “You don’t want to be mayor?”

      “I’ll leave the politics to my brother.” Brad lifted a bag off the cart and passed it to Matt. “And stick with what I know.”

      Sophie needed to stick with what she knew, too. And that wasn’t Brad Harrington. Both Brad and Matt towered over the squat shelves that she swore groaned and pleaded for retirement every time she restocked. But the place was stuck in its current unpampered state, much like Sophie was stuck in baseball caps and budget lockdown. This was her life.

      She pulled her baseball cap lower on her forehead. “You must have other clients or business to attend to. Something more important than installing a security system in a pet store for free.”

      “I’m crashing at our friend’s place until my boat is ready,” Brad said. “Zack can use the food for the dog he rescued on his last trip to the mountains.”

      “You’re still setting sail, then?” Matt asked.

      “Just waiting for the guys at Delta Craft to let me know the restoration is complete.” Brad tossed the last bag to Matt. “Hopefully before the end of the month, I’ll sail out of the bay.”

      “What about your job?” Sophie asked. “What about your family?”

      “My partner is handling things in my absence,” Brad said.

      Sophie noted he never volunteered anything about his family. And again she wanted to know more. But he was leaving. What else mattered?

      “Brad is the H in J & H Associates.” Matt straightened the food bags on the weary shelf. “Always helps when you own the company.”

      Sophie nodded. She was a business owner herself, but leaving had never been a consideration. Never. Not even for a long weekend. She had to be here to maintain the business and provide for her niece. An indefinite hold had been put on vacations. Last fall, she’d taken a day trip with Ella to Chicago for a second opinion on Ella’s eye surgery. Less than a twenty-four-hour turnaround, with most of their time spent in airports and waiting rooms. Definitely not Sophie’s idea of a vacation.

      “So, do we have a deal?” Brad wiped his hands on his jeans and smiled. “Security system for dog food.”

      “What kind of dog did your friend rescue?” Sophie was curious. “A Chihuahua hardly eats enough to pay for the cost of the security system.”