On Common Ground (Harlequin Super Romance) by Tracy Kelleher Read Free Book Online

one ear. “But I believe that the Reggio Emilia system works better in the long run, producing natural readers and ones with fewer social problems. And even the critics can’t deny that the teacher is good at picking up any learning disability.”
    She shook her daughter’s hand playfully. “C’mon, munchkin. Time for bed. It’s late for a school night. You want to be up bright and early for Mr. B tomorrow, don’t you?”
    “The early bird catches the worm. But I don’t like worms. I want to catch butterflies.”
    “Well, your bird can catch butterflies,” her mother announced and guided her to the door.
    “Wait a minute. This Mr. B?” Lilah called out.
    “Mr. B, Tweedle B. Tweedle B and Tweedle Bum,” Brigid recited bowing her head back and forth. She pulled on her mother’s arm.
    “That’s right, dear.” Noreen didn’t bother to correct her.
    “How many six-year-olds know Lewis Carroll?” Mimi asked.
    Lilah was almost convinced she detected some sisterly pride.
    “Oh, that’s par for the course in Mr. B’s class,” Noreen said over her shoulder. “I’ll catch you later this weekend, then.” She waved.
    Lilah pushed away from the island. “Before you go. One question—Brigid’s teacher? Mr. B? His full name wouldn’t be…”
    “Justin Bigelow.” Mimi supplied the answer.
    “How did you know?” Noreen bent down to pick up Brigid and carried her upstairs.
    Left alone in the kitchen, Mimi lowered her chin and looked over her nose at Lilah. “You think she’s in love with him?”
    “Brigid or Noreen?” Lilah asked.
    “Either one. Both.”
    Lilah pursed her lips. “Maybe I will have another drink.” She reached for her glass, and asked casually, a little too casually, “This love thing? You think it’s contagious?”
    Mimi raised her eyebrows. “Why? You think you feel symptoms coming on?”

CHAPTER FIVE
    “S O , TELL ME AGAIN WHO we’re picking the food up for?” Matt Brown asked as he opened the drinks case at Hoagie Palace. It was a Thursday evening, and the Grantham take-out institution was packed with high school and college students, and Matt, a local kid home for summer vacation after his freshman year at Yale, fit the profile. The smell of hot sauce, fried saturated fat and hormonal imbalance hung in the air.
    “My half sister Mimi and a friend of hers from college,” Press Lodge explained as he held out money to the cashier. “She’s this woman named Lilah Evans—the head of a nonprofit in Africa or something.” As he waited for his change, he spoke to Angie, the woman behind the counter who owned the popular food spot with her husband, Sal. “Hey, Angie, I gotta satisfy the hoagie fix for the returning alums in the family. Otherwise they get ornery.”
    “That’s what we count on,” Angie said with a laugh and passed the coins and bills to Press. “But if anyone gets ornery with you, hon, you send ’em to me. You’re like family.” Angie beamed over her shoulder at a wall of photographs. Press followed her gaze. Front and center was one from Press’s graduation from his prep school in Connecticut.
    He’d invited Angie and Sal, never expecting they’d make the trip. Not only had they come, Sal had handed him an envelope on the side. “If you ever need anything, you know who to call,” Sal had offered with a swift handshake. “We’re proud of you.” Then he’d taken the picture of Angie with her arm around Press, a proud smile on her face, a dopey one on his. In the corner of the photo, slightly out of focus, stood his mother, glancing down at the Rolex on her wrist, probably checking how much time she had before her tennis match. His father—surprise, surprise—was nowhere in sight.
    Press blew a kiss to Angie and led the way through the organized throng, asserting himself with one of his wide shoulders. His father had been disappointed that he hadn’t gone out for football at Grantham—he’d been heavily recruited. Just another disappointment