Langford could go pound sand.

In the end—after trying to be nice and telling the pain-in-the-ass interloper that she didn’t have time for him, that she was extremely busy getting everyone settled in for their first day at camp—he hadn’t taken her blatant hints. She’d eventually had to intimate that she’d call the police to have him removed.

He’d jeered at her proclamation, then taken his time to walk off smugly, not appearing daunted in the least.

Asshole.

She hoped today would be the last she’d see of the prick until camp closed down, but she doubted it.

Hilly flopped her body over on the mattress again.

A disgruntled, and very dramatic doggy-sigh sounded from the floor next to her.

Crap.

“I’m sorry, Nel,” she apologized quietly so as not to wake Buffy in the other room. “I’m keeping you awake with my tossing and turning, aren’t I?”

Nel gave one of those knowing, dog groans, and Hilly giggled.

“Okay. I get it. Shut it down. We need our sleep. Am I right?”

Her only answer was a loud, doggy- huff, so Hilly began doing some deep breathing to access her happy place.

Because she’d finally finished methodically and successfully sorting through her very odd first day, or maybe because her body was actually drained, eventually her lids closed and she found sleep.

Hilly was up with the dawn, unlike Buffy whose door remained closed.

Hilly giggled as she tip-toed by Buffy’s room. Her friend was not an early riser.

After taking care of her morning ablutions as well as another ignored stack of paperwork, Hilly finally got on the loud-speaker at 7:30 sharp and gave the morning announcement which would be heard all throughout camp.

“Rise and shine, campers,” she chirped cheerily. “We have a beautiful day ahead of us. It’s seventy-nine degrees and sunny, and if the smells coming from the dining hall are any indication, I’d say Mrs. S has bacon on the menu. So if you want some, make sure you get there before Nel and I eat it all. And for those of you who are non-meat eaters, I can promise stacks of Mrs. S’s delicious, fluffy pancakes.”

Hilly had only five vegetarians on premise this year, along with six gluten-free kids, and eight peanut allergies including one counselor, Bailey. Not that Hilly needed to worry about the peanut kids having a medical crisis. She never allowed any nut products on the property; something everyone was fully aware of and had agreed to—even her staff—when they’d signed their paperwork.

Having finished her morning greeting, Hilly queued up the pre-programmed, soothing classical music she always piped over the camp speakers for the first fifteen minutes of the day, then laughed at a dancing Nel who was growing impatient, as if she hadn’t already been out to do her business and her rounds, twice before sunrise.

“Give me a minute,” she chuckled. “I need to put on my sneakers.”

Yeah. Her good sneakers. Because she might be taking a little extra care with her appearance today.

Knowing Cisco would be showing up, Hilly had told herself it was no big deal, but she’d found herself donning a sky-blue T-shirt she knew complimented her eyes, along with a brand-new pair of shorts that weren’t frayed or torn at the cuffs. Not that their pristine appearance would last long. Her clothes tended to take a beating due to the majority of her time being spent outside.

As Hilly rose from putting on her footwear, Nel jumped and spun in circles at the door. With still no sign of Buffy, Hilly finally opened the door and her dog burst outside, not waiting for her to follow.

The pup knew the routine, and wouldn’t be gone long. They’d reconvene within the next few minutes at the dining hall.

Hilly breathed in a long, slow lungful of the fresh, pine-scented air. Lovely. This was truly her happy place, and she needed to remember that; chill-the-hell-out where Cisco was concerned, and ignore Nurse Sourpuss. Everything would eventually work out, one way or another, and none of her worrying about any of it would make a damned bit of difference.

Her feet followed a well-worn path around the barn, until she reached the huge dining hall building. Pushing through the swinging doors—second to enter behind Nel—Hilly followed the sound of banging pans and the smell of sizzling bacon, emerging into the huge kitchen where Ellen was merrily and efficiently creating their initial meal of the day.

“Good morning, Ellen,” Hilly greeted cheerfully.

“Good morning, Hilly, Nel.” She bent down and placed a kiss right on the top of the dog’s head. “Ready to be spoiled, my sweet girl?”

Ellen wasn’t talking to Hilly.

The chef snapped off a piece of bacon that had already been cooked, tossing it to the dog. Nel caught it mid-air, then spun proudly and trotted back out to the main dining room.

“Opportunist,” Hilly laughed. “She wants to find a seat before they’re all taken.”

“You mean seats, plural,’ Ellen laughed. “You know she’ll beg food from every camper before she’s full. I don’t know how she isn’t the size of a pony by now.”

Hilly laughed. “She knows her limits, and she works it off.”

Yes, the two of them took an evening run together every night, which helped keep both their weights under control.

Hilly didn’t waste a second, but went right to work alongside Ellen, setting out stacks of plates, flatware, and napkins. To save on payroll, Hilly did a lot of the grunt-work around camp, herself. As the season progressed, however, the campers and counselors would take over things like this morning’s tasks on a rotating schedule, as they learned what needed to be done and fell into a routine. In the meantime, Hilly didn’t mind pitching in wherever and whenever. That, in a nutshell, was her job description; oversight and an extra pair of hands.

“So, today’s the day Cisco shows up, am I correct?” Ellen’s voice teased.

“It is. And don’t you go starting any trouble. It’s bad enough I have a little crush on him without you playing matchmaker.”

“Who’s playing matchmaker?” Buffy came up behind Hilly, yawning widely. Her ex-roommate had finally made it out of bed, and…frickity-frick. Hilly snorted as she got a look at her friend. Who looked so damned gorgeous this early in the morning?

“I am,” Ellen came back unabashedly. “You haven’t met Cisco yet, but I think he and Hilly would be perfect for each other.”

“Me, too.”

Hilly gave Buff an eye roll.

Yeah. Buffy knew all about Cisco. Hilly and her bestie had talked until nearly midnight Sunday after she’d returned from his house, and Hilly had spilled all the sordid Cisco-beans, past and present.

Of course, the therapist in Buffy had come out in full-force then, telling Hilly she should let Cisco know immediately that they’d been acquainted with each other in the past. That way, there’d be no misunderstandings or ambiguity if and when Cisco decided if he wanted to move ahead with…dating possibilities.

Buffy continued ignoring Hilly and spoke directly to Ellen, plucking a sausage link off the grill and popping it into her mouth. “I think Hilly already knows he’s a good catch. We just have to make her understand her worth, and get her to open up to him regarding who she is.”

Buffy had been told that Ellen was in on the whole keeping her identity a secret, thing.

“I agree,” Ellen answered while flipping more pancakes that would be placed in the warming oven until everyone was lined up to eat, cafeteria style. “I’ve known that boy for as long as I’ve known Hilly, and there’s no part of him that will be scared away if she tells him he’d been part of her early school experience.” She pointed at Hilly with her spatula. “On the other hand, if he feels like he’s been lied to, even by omission, that might create that possible wedge you’re so worried about.”

Buffy looked at Hilly triumphantly. “See? Great minds think alike. Tell the man everything and see what happens.”

Hilly grumbled to herself.

Easy for Buffy to say. She wasn’t the one who’d spent years of her childhood, fat and bullied.