Snow Falling on Bluegrass Read Online Free PDF

life-changing gadget, but I could remember all the little details, anticipate the potential problems. I could see the big picture formed from the little puzzle pieces. And when I saw the work that the marketing department produced, I could feel like I was part of something great.
    Unfortunately, Charlie’s interview for the grant-funded statistician position happened to fall on one of my manic days, and I was running around the office like the proverbial headless chicken. Charlie came strolling out of the elevator like a cover boy for Suave Nerd Quarterly and I dropped a pile of file folders at his feet. And while he was helping me gather them up, I stood and he said, “Uh, you have a—” and reached up to peel a bright yellow Post-it note from my butt.
    Instead of commenting on the embarrassing grocery list on the Post-it, Charlie simply smiled and handed me the yellow paper, then asked me if there were any Sadie-related quirks he might need to be aware of before the interview. When that minefield of a conversation didn’t scare him off, I advised Sadie to hire him immediately.
    Much like with my Lost Boy nerd herd, I had taken Charlie under my wing as soon as he took the position as statistician, using his multiple advanced degrees in mathematics to create and decipher surveys that helped us predict state tourism trends. Sadly, Charlie’s insanely large brain had been installed without the “social ease” chip. That led to the occasional awkward moment in which I had to act as what Sadie called the “Ambassador of Dumbassery” and explain our normal colleagues’ wacky antics to him. And like my boys—and Sadie, for that matter—Charlie needed someone to help him with little details of everyday life, like making sure he ate actual food every day and was forced into the outside world for exposure to sunlight to prevent cave fish syndrome. Again, I was good at running other people’s schedules. I simply added Charlie to the rotation of people I cared for, literally and figuratively.
    In addition to being smart and well-mannered, Charlie was the type of guy who always remembered our birthdays with little potted plants and iTunes gift cards. I suspected there was a birthday spreadsheet involved, but it was the thought that counted. More than that, he was well-read, enjoyed the same obscure sci-fi movies that I did, and showed occasional flashes of absolutely filthy humor. They were few and far between, but so very worth the effort to see.
    And yes, he also appealed to me on a completely shallow, physical, non-intellectual level. Beyond the sharp, elegant features, the man’s voice was sex—deep, smooth, chocolate-covered sex. It didn’t matter what he was saying, it sounded ridiculously sensual. He asked me for a bottle of Wite-Out once and I swear my panties slid right off. And, just to prove the universe was a cruel place, over the past few months he’d magically figured out how to dress: cute little vest-and-tie combinations paired with dark jeans that emphasized his long legs and thoroughly bitable butt. It was like he was trying to torture me.
    I wanted him so badly my thighs ached with it. Charlie never dated, never mentioned a girlfriend, but I never had the guts to act on my feelings (read: do something naked and foolish). I told myself it was because it wasn’t fair to Darrell. I told myself that I valued my friendship with Charlie too much to ruin it. But honestly, I was afraid that I’d misinterpreted Charlie’s behavior and he would gently but firmly friend-zone me. Or worse, he wouldn’t reject me and I would manage to screw up the relationship in less than a month and end up alone. It was better to stay with familiar, predictable Darrell.
    I had thought this holding pattern was working for us. I knew my place. Charlie knew his. But right after Sadie’s transition to the director’s position, the sweet, affable Charlie I