I’M FEELING pretty pleased with myself, sitting in the bright waiting room outside the Director of Operations office for my one o’clock appointment. The drive into town was four hours, and I still had time to grab a quick latte and muffin before pulling into the sprawling Wutherford Heights complex. I’m more than ready for this meeting. The super-chic office manager, rocking the afro puffs, smiles over at me. “I can hear them wrapping up in there. He’ll be ready for you shortly.” “Awesome. Thanks.” I read up on the facility last night. There are 190 rooms and three levels of care: independent living, assisted living, and long-term care. There are ten rooms in a designated palliative care wing. There’s an adjoining memory care unit with forty rooms and…. An elderly couple shuffles out of the director’s office and hands some forms to afro puffs, who nods me in. “Thanks for taking the time to meet with me today.” I extend my hand as he comes around the desk, arms raised for a hug. There’s no way I can be hugged by the most handsome man on the planet. Not at a job interview. “Liam!” His arms drop when I don’t reciprocate. “Oh, okay.” He shakes my hand and motions to the chair facing his desk. “I can’t tell you how much I appreciate you considering me for a recreation aide position, Mr. Cowan.” He shrugs. “It’s absolutely yours if you want it, no question. And you can just call me Greg. I mean, you can legally drink now.” He hits me with that killer grin. Damn. This man just gets better with age. His low fade haircut is more salt than pepper now, and the smile lines are a little deeper, but those killer blue eyes, that chiseled jawline…. “Um, maybe for work I’ll just keep it… more professional. I mean, I don’t want there to be any appearance of… nepotism… that I landed a job here.” Another shrug. “Whatever you’re comfortable with. But it’s a three-month rec aide gig, buddy. I’m not making you program director!” I feel a twinge of embarrassment at my overcautious approach. “Could you, though? It’s kind of where I’m heading.” He belly laughs and picks up his phone. “Shonda, please call Morag and tell her to clean out her desk. She’s finished.” Short pause. “Of course I’m kidding. Sorry to bother you.” Now I’m killing myself laughing. “That would look pretty fine on my CV, though!” “There he is. There’s the guy I miss, the one who would laugh at all my stupid jokes when Gracie just rolled her eyes!” “Speaking of CV….” I hand him mine. “Just to keep things on the up and up. And speaking of Gracie, she’ll be in town this summer, right?” He looks pleased beyond measure. “She’s here now. She was thinking about staying in New York, trolling for film projects to work on, but she found an excellent one here. I’m pretty thrilled.” “That’s great. I know she’s loving the program at Columbia, but we’ve both been too busy to stay in regular touch. Or at all, really.” “Well, she’s very happy to know you’re back for the summer too.” He scans my CV. “This is impressive, Liam, and you have been a busy guy. Great marks, lots of volunteering. And you’re starting your Master of Social Work degree in the fall?” “Yup. I want to pursue something in program management, or maybe the social policy analysis field. I’ll narrow it down.” He nods thoughtfully. “So I’ll put Morag on notice that she’s got two years left here till you graduate and come for her job.” “I mean, that’s a pretty generous heads-up….” “Right? Come on, I’ll take you on the tour.” He stands and stretches, which wonderfully highlights his big broad chest and trim stomach. Something I really don’t need to notice right now. I’ve barely recovered from the way his fitted cerulean shirt makes his eyes pop—makes every damn thing pop! Note to self: spend as little time as possible in this office.