“England.”
“Blah blah. Sweden. England. What’s the difference these days?” He eyed Mason for a long moment, pointed a finger at him, with a rare smile. “You should use your magic charms and get her to stay awhile. Convince her to live here and be my nurse. Ha! I’d pay triple to keep her around this house.” He guided his electric chair to swivel around. “Where are my teeth?”
“Maybe you can extend her a job offer tonight,” Mason joked as he went to grab the glass holding his grandfather’s floating dentures. The old man’s idea held serious appeal. To persuade Greta to make her visit a permanent one… Nevertheless, he was pretty sure there was nothing that could entice her to make roots here.
Chapter Twelve
Jealous? No sir.
Greta strode from behind the hotel’s front desk with a box, across the lobby to a side table near the house phone. Sophie had asked her to set out leftover goody bags from the hotel’s Christmas stock. None too gently, she dropped the box on the table and plucked out the red-cellophane wrapped bags filled with candy, arranging them in neat, orderly rows.
Just because she’d pointed out how impolite it would’ve been to interrupt Mason’s conversation didn’t mean she was jealous; Shannon had clearly wanted a private chat. How catty would it have appeared if Greta had jumped in the middle? She’d seen the way Shannon smiled up at Mason. It was the same adoring gaze his “friend” gave him at the restaurant. So she’d decided against introducing herself, lest Shannon judge her as competition. In her experience, it was best to avoid stepping on another woman’s shoes, whether they be Coclico or Crocs.
Shannon would have Mason all to herself once Greta left.
Or even sooner than that if he wanted, as Greta had foolishly proposed. When she’d told him to ask Shannon out, she’d been fishing for a protest. She wanted him to say he had no intention of going out on a date with Shannon, to insist his only desire was to spend time with her. On top of that, she hoped he’d tell her how absurd it was to imply he’d like some variety. How ridiculous it was to mention such a thing. However, he didn’t say any of those things, only responded with sarcasm.
She’d been playing a game she never participated in, then tried to cover up her foolishness. Of course she didn’t want to share him or make other plans while he romanced someone else. The thought of Mason doing so twisted an instant hot knot in her stomach and she pressed a hand to it, wincing.
Oh no. She was jealous.
With a sigh, she snatched one of the goody bags, untied it and poked through the assortment. Jelly beans, no. Gummy bears, peppermints, no no no. At the bottom, she found a gold-wrapped treasure. Her favorite. She unwrapped a mini Reese’s Peanut Butter Cup, slid it into her mouth, then plopped on a chair to enjoy it. Admitting jealousy to herself was humiliating enough. Even the wonderful sweetness of chocolate couldn’t ease her discomfort with the knowledge. She dug for another Reese’s.
An older couple walked by. She gave a little wave, mouth full, before gulping her shame. Well, this will not do. She needed to keep a clear head…and her pride. Jealous though she may have been of Shannon flirting with Mason, it didn’t mean anything. Once she flew home, they’d go their separate ways and start new relationships, although the prospect of doing that held little appeal to her. Nevertheless, that was where they were headed, to an inevitable end.
With a lift of her chin and a quick tug at her light blazer, she rose and resumed her task. Regardless of the ugly emotion beginning with the letter J, she had to get over wondering who he would be with after her.
“Greta.” Sophie laughed, coming up beside her. “All you had to do was put these on the table. You didn’t have to arrange them like we’re offering sacks of diamonds or anything.”
Happy to have her friend interrupt her thoughts, Greta sent her a glance, setting her hands on her hips. “Am I trying too hard? I couldn’t just throw them in a pile. They should be presentable.”
“Job well done. But don’t sweat it. After the guests see our sign offering complimentary candy, they’ll disappear faster than it took for you to make them all pretty.” Sophie spotted an open bag and raised a brow. She snatched it up and shook it before Greta’s guilty gaze. “Sampling the goods, are we?”
“You caught me. I couldn’t resist.” Needless jealousy was the culprit.
“You are so quick to be honest! I would’ve come up with a story it was already open and that I didn’t want to give a guest a used bag.” They shared laughter as she dumped chocolate balls in Greta’s hand and took a few for herself. “Waste not, want not.” She unwrapped three, tilted her head back and dropped them in her mouth, giving a satisfied “mmmm” as she chewed.
Greta had already eaten two Reese’s cups. Still, she bit off of one chocolate ball, spoiling her dinner even more.
“Sophie?” A male voice spoke behind them.
They turned around in unison. A dark-blond man appearing to be in his early thirties stood before them with a disarming smile. He wore a black peacoat, jeans and sneakers that came straight out of an eighties movie. Good-looking to boot. Very good-looking…in an All-American sort of way. Clean-cut and strong. Greta smiled, but he was only gazing at Sophie.
Her friend turned, gasped, covered her mouth, cheeks full of chocolate. “Um, hi Dr. Kessman,” she greeted as best she could through the candy.
He grinned, shaking his head. “I’ve told you a hundred times to call me by my first name.” As if he just realized Greta’s presence, he blinked and held out his hand. “Hi. I’m Blake.”
“Greta. Nice to meet you.” She smiled as they shook hands, glancing askance at her friend, who seemed to be a little nervous in front of this Blake fellow. Interesting indeed.
“Likewise.” He returned his attention to Sophie. “I was in the neighborhood and thought I’d stop by to say hello. I haven’t seen you at the Sandwich Club in a while. You’ve been missed.”
Sophie gulped some of the chocolate, still covering her lips with her manicured hand. “Oh. Well, I’ve been busy. Holidays. Managing the hotel. You know how it is.”
Greta hid her amusement, fascinated with the exchange. Sophie chewed furiously, swallowed, then gestured with her hands. “I mean, I guess you wouldn’t know how that is, but probably know what it’s like when you’re pulled in a hundred different directions, and you’ve got a million things going on and suddenly time flies by—along with any semblance of a social life. Just when I think I can get away, my mother forces me to attend her friend’s cooking parties so I can pour wine and play sober cab. And since my grandfather kicked out his last nurse, I’m on standby in case no one is around. Busy bee, that’s me.”
Greta folded her hands together and leaned back on the table. Oh my. Did Sophie say that all in one breath? It wasn’t like her sassy friend to ramble on. As Greta observed the two, she swiftly realized three things. Blake liked Sophie. Sophie definitely liked Blake. And neither of them had made a move.
“I can imagine what it takes to run a place like this,” he remarked, roving his gaze around. “Of course I understand family comes first. I told the kids you had an important job and you’d make the time when you could. I wanted you to know they ask about you every day. The Ping-Pong tournaments aren’t the same without you there to tell me how lousy my hand-eye coordination is.”
“I never said that,” Sophie quickly defended. “You always let me win. You have—great hands and eyes!”
Greta stifled outright laughter, pressing her lips together, but the effort proved poor when Blake and Sophie both looked at her. Sophie’s cheeks turned bright red. Sobering, Greta swallowed her giggles.
Sophie cleared her throat lightly. “Being good at Ping-Pong is minor in comparison to being a great doctor. I was kidding about your eye-hand coordination that day so the kids would get a good laugh.”
“At my expense,” he spoke in a flat tone, but with a twinkle
in his eye.
Sophie’s mouth opened and closed. “I…I…it was only meant as a joke.”
Couldn’t she see the doctor was only teasing? Oh, poor Sophie. She was too smitten to even speak.
“Well, it’s part of my reputation now,” Blake pointed out with a shrug of his nicely broad shoulders. “It’s important to keep up appearances, so while you’ve been gone, I’ve had to lose countless Ping-Pong games, walk into walls, drop things…”
Sophie crossed her arms, her mouth twitching with a smile. “You’re just putting on a show. I’m sure the kids see right through you.”
“I know but they always think it’s hysterical. They’re a good bunch.”
“They are. I miss them,” she spoke softly.
He paused, gazing at Sophie with thoughts Greta could only imagine. “And they miss you.”
Whoa. A crackle of hot, sexual tension hung in the air, and Greta began to feel like a third wheel. An invisible third wheel.
Blake cleared his throat. “Anyway, I have to go. It’s really good to see you. Not used to seeing you all dressed up in a suit, though. You definitely couldn’t play b-ball in that skirt, but we’ll take you any way we can have you. The kids, I mean.”
Sure he did.
Sophie tucked her hair behind an ear with a shy smile. “I’ll try my best to make it down there.” Suddenly, she grabbed Greta’s arm and pulled her close. “In the meantime, if you need an extra hand, Greta can take my place. She’s awesome with kids.”
The doctor raised his brows. “Really? Well, now that she’s put you on the spot Greta, are you interested? Don’t feel obligated because Sophie is throwing you to the front lines.”
Greta bumped her hip to her friend’s. “It’s okay, she’s done it before. I’d love to help.”
He smiled. “Cool. We’d only need you for a couple of hours. Most of the staff are retirees and stay-at-home moms, but we’re a little thin this week because of the holidays. Only about half the kids we usually supervise are there. It’s not a complete jungle, but it can sound a lot like one.”
Greta laughed softly. “Count me in.”
“I’ll let you borrow some clothes to play in,” Sophie said. “No wearing your killer designer boots to this place. You’re likely to get paint, mud, puke, or chocolate milk on your feet by the time you leave. Unless you want to start a new trend over there in Great Britain.” At the question in Blake’s eyes, she added, “She’s here on vacay, so I can only loan her out temporarily.”
“You’re far from home,” he remarked.
Home? Not exactly. More like a place where most of her belongings were stored. “I am, but Swan’s Crossing is the next best thing.”
“No doubt. It’s a great place to live.” He glanced at his watch. “I’m running late for an appointment. Sophie can give you directions but it’s pretty easy to find. I’ll show you around and introduce you to everybody. How does two o’clock sound? You’ll be relieving a busy mom who won’t leave unless someone takes her place.”
“Two o’clock is perfect.” Another blissful morning to sleep in.
With that settled, he set his warm gaze on Sophie. “I’ll tell the kids I spoke to their Crayola Queen. I hope you don’t wait too long before you come back, though. It’s not the same without you.”
Sophie blushed again. “Good to hear.”
“All right.” He started to back up. “Well, see you then.”
As he started to turn away, she blurted, “Wait. Here, Dr. Kessman.” She grabbed a goody bag and handed one to him. “Take one. I’d give you some for the kids, but I don’t think we should hand out sweets when we’re suppose to promote good nutrition.”
He raised the bag. “Good call. Thanks. And it’s Blake, remember? See you around, Ms. Renclair.” He dipped his head with a charming smile. “’Bye, Greta.” He smoothly turned around and walked out the revolving doors.
Sophie’s gaze lingered on the doctor’s back before she realized Greta was staring at her with a grin. “What?” Sophie asked, blinking innocence.
Greta crossed her arms, one brow raised. “You. I’ve never seen such a flaming color on your face before. Or heard you trip over your words like that! Not since you had a crush on my Scandinavian neighbor, that is.” She smiled as her friend rolled her eyes, then asked, “What exactly did you sign me up for, Crayola Queen? What’s the Sandwich Club?”
“An after-school program,” Sophie replied. “But since the kids are out of school for the holidays, they run it all day at the old rec center. A community group started it last year and it’s been a going well so far. It’s for kids thirteen and younger who have no real parental supervision once the bell rings and for the parents who can’t really afford day care. We hand out sandwiches, veggies, set up games and arts and crafts in the gym. Less of a strict daycare, more of a casual kids’ club.”
“I love the idea.”
“It’s worked out nicely. I get out an hour or two early to make it down there a couple times a month. The kids wear me out, but it’s worth it. They crowned me the Crayola Queen because I bought boxes and boxes of new crayons one day and drew some caricatures. I get to be a kid again in that place. Wish I could go more often.”
“So does Blake if you can’t tell. Why do you insist on calling him Doctor?”
Sophie shrugged. “All doctors should be addressed with their titles. They’ve earned it. In any case, if I call him Blake, people might think we have something going on.”
“Clearly he’s okay with that, Sophie. Didn’t you see the way he stares at you? He likes you. You like him. Why the heck aren’t you two an item?”
Sophie fiddled with the goody bag, scrunching her nose. “I don’t want to like him. Every unmarried girl in town has been after Blake Kessman since he moved here a year ago. He’s a catch and a half. Handsome, single. A doctor. He volunteers for the Sandwich Club once a week and runs a successful practice. He can dance, loves animals and kids, listens to jazz and rock, plus, he’s one of the kindest, most generous men I know. Ugh! I can’t date that!”
Greta laughed with incredulity. “Huh? Why not?”
“Isn’t it obvious?” She made a face. “He’s too good to be true.”
“Nobody’s perfect. He sounds like a good guy. Who cares how many gals have their eye on him? He wants you.”
“No, he doesn’t. He’s nice to everyone like that.” She looped her arm in Greta’s and grabbed the empty box with her free hand. “Come on. I’ve got more slave labor in store for you before dinner. I’m so happy it’s the end of my day. My feet are killing me. That’s what I get for trying to break in new shoes at work!”
“Don’t change the subject, Sophie. He may be nice to everyone but I have a feeling he’s pretty gaga for you.” As they walked toward the lobby she corrected herself, recalling the heated glances exchanged between the pair. “Scratch that. It’s more than a feeling. It’s a fact.”
“If that were true, he would’ve asked me out by now.”
“Maybe he thinks you’ll turn him down. You don’t exactly put out the come-and-get-me vibes.”
Sophie laughed. “Greta! I’m not you. Those kinds of vibes don’t shimmy out of me naturally. Besides, I don’t want him to ‘come and get me’. The last thing I need is a guy to take up even more of my treasured, pitiful amount of free time.”
Greta was unconvinced. “Or you’re just a fraidy-cat.”
Sophie bumped Greta with her elbow. “Will you stop?”
“For now,” she teased, patting her friend’s hand.
She wished there was something she could do to encourage Blake to try a little harder to win her friend over. Sophie was totally worth the chase. Hmm…
Later, Mason and Christopher arrived for dinner at the restaurant. Greta carefully avoided Mason’s gaze, choosing to smile at his shoulder instead. The eldest Renclair looked so c
ute in his burgundy tie and sport coat. He told her he only wore them because he knew she’d like it. What a charmer. Right before they sat down, Sophie had remarked they never had eaten as a family as often as they did since she came to town.
“Well, I hope it doesn’t stop once I leave,” Greta said, taking her chair at the four-person table, the best seat in the house of course, with an unobstructed view of the pond. Mason sat to her right and it took considerable effort to keep her eyes off him. He smelled so good, freshly showered and clean-shaven, wearing a quarter-zip dark gray pullover. His brown hair gleamed in the lowlights…her fingers itched to ruffle the locks and trace down his smooth cheek.
His blue eyes met hers and she jerked her gaze, face flaming.
“Maybe you shouldn’t go back to the foreigners, Greta,” Christopher commented in a gravelly voice. “I don’t know what they’ve got over there that we don’t have here, except annoying accents and a royal family. If you like cold weather, old buildings and boring townsfolk then you can find that all right here in Swan’s Crossing.”
“Grandpa,” Sophie warned lightly.
Unfolding her napkin, Greta smiled softly at Christopher. “That’s something to consider.”
“Don’t pretend you wouldn’t love it if she moved to town, Soph,” the elder remarked.
Sophie shrugged. “I’m not pretending anything. She knows how much I adore having her around. I think Swan’s Crossing is too simple for the likes of Greta. She wants to explore the world, not shackle herself to our dot on the map.” She sent her a wink.
Frankly, Greta had seen a lot of the world already and although she couldn’t say without a doubt she’d had her fill, she was ready to let the dust settle for a while. That’s why she saved up for the cottage in Willowcombe, so she could start a life that didn’t begin with unpacking a suitcase. “This town is the best-kept secret dot this side of the Atlantic. You’re fortunate to live in a place that holds its own through the changing times. Old-world charm and beauty—it’s not as easy to find anymore. But I think I’ve finally found a place almost as good as Swan’s Crossing.”
Wrapped Up in a Beau Page 13