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anticipated.
    He thought about the Thompson case and sighed. There’d be other cases. He only had one chance to make things right with Kennedy, and he wasn’t going to blow it.

CHAPTER THREE
    Kennedy was exhausted. The last few weeks, she’d gone home after work and crawled into bed for a long nap, emerging sometimes hours later. She’d make herself something for dinner and then collapse again.
    She wished she were heading home tonight.
    The last thing she wanted to do was see Malcolm.
    She’d imagined—hoped, even—that he’d hear her news, visit with Pap, and then go back to Pittsburgh. Leave it to Malcolm to mess things up. He never seemed to do what she wanted.
    When she was younger, she’d had the biggest crush on him. She wanted him to fall head over heels for her. He lived with Pap Watson, next door to Aunt Betty’s house. In nice weather, she’d arrange herself on the porch with a book or homework, hoping he’d notice her. She’d imagine that he’d come over and say hi.
    He occasionally offered her a nonchalant wave, but that was it.
    Yet in the fall she went to all his football games. In the winter she tried to be outside shoveling the walk when she thought he’d be coming home.
    Weekends she’d help Aunt Betty out at the flower shop because she knew he frequently worked for Pap at the Center.
    She did everything she could to put herself in his path.
    And he’d never done more than nod or wave at her.
    Yeah, Malcolm Carter IV had never once cooperated with what she wanted.
    Even now, when she’d stopped wanting anything from him, he still wasn’t cooperating.
    Kennedy walked across the sidewalk from the flower shop next door to the Center and she let herself in. “Malcolm?”
    “In the office,” he called back.
    She hung her coat on the coatrack, stomped off her boots, and grabbed her file. The sun had come out and sidewalks had almost cleared. What was left wasn’t so much snow as slush. That was almost worse. If it got cold tonight, the slush would freeze and she’d have an icy walk into work tomorrow.
    Ice and pregnant women didn’t mix.
    Kennedy balled her hand into a fist and shoved it in the small of her back, hoping to relieve the ever-present ache.
    The Center was ideally designed. There were retractable walls that could divide the space into three smaller rooms if need be, but most of the time they were tucked into their pockets, leaving one gigantic room. At the back of the building there was a kitchen to the left and the office to the right.
    She headed to the right and walked into the compact space. Malcolm seemed to fill it up in a way that Pap and Val never had. But then again, Malcolm always seemed to fill up whatever space he was in.
    Kennedy couldn’t help notice him today at the restaurant. He’d sat at the back table, tucked up in the corner as if he thought no one would notice him.
    She was pretty sure that would never happen.
    Right now, he was hunched over the keyboard staring at the computer monitor. “I can’t find the schedule.”
    “Move over.”
    He wheeled the chair back a bit, but to her, it didn’t feel like it was nearly far enough. She didn’t want to be that close to him. But she didn’t want him to know that, so she made herself move forward and opened up the schedule. “There you go.” She stepped back and pushed against her lower spine again.
    Malcolm moved forward and looked at the screen. “It’s pretty full.”
    “Yes. We’ve been doing some bigger events. I’ve worked with Gus and Tavi on a few of them. The Cupboard has done a lot of the catering lately.” She thrust the file at him. “Here. I’ve worked up some spreadsheets for you. You can see that the Center’s pulling in a nice profit every month. But it has so much untapped potential, it only needs some money invested into the infrastructure and some publicity. We could easily draw some people from Erie or other neighboring towns. Cupid Falls has so much ambiance. I don’t think