Free The Practice Proposal by Tracy March Page A

of my ten-guys-I-gotta-meet-before-I-die list.” She nodded, grinning.
    Liza laughed. “I thought it was ten-guys-I-gotta—”
    “Glad the Nats won today,” Paige said quickly, and shot a no-you-didn’t look at Liza.
    “Nice to meet you, too,” Cole said. “Thanks.”
    Liza could tell he didn’t know what to make of Paige. She hadn’t either, when she’d
     met her in third grade. Heading back from the bathroom, Liza had seen Paige standing
     alone outside her classroom, drawing smiley faces on the wall with a red Sharpie.
    “Are you in trouble?” Liza had asked. “’Cause if you’re not already, you’re gonna
     be.”
    Paige had widened her golden-brown eyes, her blond hair falling in wisps from her
     ponytail. She’d looked like a Precious Moments figurine. “No I won’t,” she’d said
     politely. “This is art class.”
    “Everything’s ready for you two.” Paige gestured toward the door that led to the kitchen.
    Liza glanced suspiciously between her and Cole. “What does that mean?”
    Cole said, “You, Miss Tiki Torch Hot Dog, I’m-not-much-of-a-cook, are going to do
     some baking.”
    “You’re kidding, right?” She would much rather do some eating.
    “Nope.” Paige’s eyes glimmered.
    Liza had no idea what they were talking about. Obviously the two of them had cooked
     up something before she and Cole got there. “Someone want to clue me in here?”
    “Liza, you’re like, all Orioles, all the time.” Paige clutched Cole’s biceps and
     raised her eyebrows at Liza. “And Cole is all Nationals, for sure. So I thought you
     two should settle this thing in the kitchen—you know, baseball pie wars or something.”
    “Baseball pie wars?” Liza asked.
    Paige nodded. “Well, yeah. Because cake and cupcake competitions are so overdone.
     And I figured I’d have a real battle on my hands.” She tipped her head toward Liza,
     looking exasperated. “But then you show up in that Nats outfit and I’d say the advantage
     goes to Cole.” He played along, giving Paige a thumbs-up, and that only encouraged
     her. “I can count the times on my index finger that I’ve seen her wear something that
     wasn’t black or orange.”
    “She’s exaggerating,” Liza said. But not by a lot…
    “C’mon back.” Paige led them into the kitchen, which gleamed with stainless steel.
     The place was so clean and organized that someone might wonder if all of the pastries
     and cakes up front had been delivered, and the kitchen was just for show. Liza knew
     better. After Wes died, she’d spent many days in here with Paige, trying to help but
     really only getting in the way. Yet Paige had never acted as if it bothered her—even
     when Liza botched recipes and left cookies in the oven way too long.
    Since then, Liza had associated Sweet Bee’s with her intense grief during the first
     months after she lost Wes. It had kept her away from Paige more than she wanted to
     admit, and still Paige had understood.
    “So here’s the setup,” Paige said. “You two are going to create a team pie.” She took
     another opportunity to grab Cole’s biceps. “You’ll make a Nationals pie, and Liza
     will make an Orioles pie. I’ll help you come up with recipes, and then we’ll see which
     one turns out best. Haven’t you ever seen Cupcake Wars ? It’s like that, but with pie.”
    Liza was waiting for the punch line, and Cole looked as though he was trying not to
     laugh. “You’re serious?” she asked, imagining the horror she might create considering
     she was chronically kitchen-challenged.
    “What? Are you afraid of a little friendly competition?” Paige teased.
    “No,” Liza said quickly. “I just hate to embarrass him.”
    Cole laughed and smoothed his hand up and down her back. “I’m not too worried about
     that.”
    “Whatever,” Liza said, enjoying the sturdy feel of his touch. “You’d be wise not to
     judge me based on one flaming wiener.”
    Paige raised one eyebrow. “I’m