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"Right."
"And I don't know if there's money involved, but that won't win him over either."
"Great. So far you're not really making me feel good about this."
Cormac sighed and leaned back, his dark eyes scanning my face for a long minute as I perched on the edge of my seat. I didn't know how he could stay in this small close room. I was beginning to feel like the walls were caving. I waved a hand in front of my face, trying to move some air around.
"This office is the worst, huh?" Cormac laughed.
I shrugged. "I mean, it's…"
"Terrible. We just needed an office address, really. I work across the street in the coffee shop half the time."
I smiled, realizing Cormac was just a nice guy who’d lost his wife and was doing the best he could. I needed to leave him alone. I sighed and stood up, picking up my purse. "Well, I'm sorry I bothered you," I said, feeling like we must be finished. "Thanks for your time."
"Hang on a second," Cormac said, his voice low and thoughtful. I sat back down. "You seem like a nice person," he said, narrowing his eyes at me.
"Um. Thanks." Where was this going to go?
"So I'll give you a tip. The thing my brother needs most is a reason to get up every day. He thinks he's lost everything. And in a way, he kind of has. The guy might be good looking and richer than God, but he's miserable because everything he ever believed his life was about is gone."
My heart squeezed a little for the handsome stranger I’d met in his big empty house, and I thought of the last article I’d read, a feature with Callan’s ex-girlfriend, describing that she’d had to leave him because he’d become a miserable hermit since his injury. "I don't think a Christmas home show is going to be able to touch that…"
"No," Cormac said. "But you might."
"Ah, I'm not following." Was this guy trying to set me up? He didn't even know me.
"I'm just saying none of the usual tactics are going to work. So your only hope at getting my brother to agree to feature Singletree Manor on your show is if you win him over some other way. And the guy has a shortage of human interaction and kindness in his life. Though if my daughters have anything to say about it…" he trailed off.
I wrinkled my nose at him, confused. Now he was dragging his daughters into it? Where was this going exactly, and how much would I have to put in to get this to actually happen?
"Sorry," Cormac laughed. "I never thought I'd see the day, but my brother volunteered to babysit my kids. That's how I know he's desperate for some kind of interaction, though I imagine he's going to get tired of chatting about Santa Claus and Dora the Explorer in another day or two."
"Okkkaay," I said slowly. I had no idea how to use that information. "Well, thanks."
"Just go back over. Be nice. Get to know the guy."
I really didn't have time for any of that, and getting to know the stars of my shows hadn’t worked out super well in the past. "Sure."
"And if you mention the need to decorate for Christmas, I think you might find a couple little girls on your side on that one."
"You're sending me over to recruit your daughters to my cause?"
Cormac smiled at me. "They could probably use some interaction, too," he said. "Like I said, you seem like a nice person. My gut says so, and my gut is never wrong about that kind of thing."
I frowned at him, and understood that he must have loved his wife very much to end up looking so sad and tired. The Whitewood brothers both seemed like they needed someone to be kind to them—it wasn't just Callan who needed a friend. "Well," I said. "I guess I've got nothing to lose."
"Good luck, April," Cormac said. "I hope to see you again."
I shook his hand and left the cramped office, heading for my room. I needed to do some paperwork back at the hotel, but this afternoon, I was going back out to Singletree Manor.
6
Christopher Moves In
Callan
Waking up to the sun streaming over the back lawn as it rolled down to the shores of the Potomac should have been enjoyable—uplifting maybe. Especially since I had always been a morning person. Only now, mornings were close to torturous.
