Wanted: One Mommy

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Wanted: One Mommy Page 5

by Cathy Gillen Thacker


  Out in the driveway, Dutch’s car started, then Jack’s mother’s. “I’m here,” Jack said, as Caroline appeared near the doorway, too, a question in her eyes. “You’ve got my approval,” Jack said firmly. “Just do what has to be done as quickly as possible.” In his view, there wasn’t a moment to lose.

  “SORRY ABOUT THAT,” Caroline said as Jack joined her. “Your mother suggested I hurry you along or you’d be on the phone with your office forever.”

  Which reminded Jack…he hadn’t called in to his secretary yet. “I’ve still got one more call to make,” he said.

  Jack would have been annoyed in her place, but Caroline looked at Jack with the patience of a saint. “I’ll wait in the living room,” she said.

  Jack wrapped up business as quickly as he could. It still took fifteen minutes.

  Caroline was on her laptop busily typing away when he joined her again. She held up a hand, finished what she was doing, then shut down her computer.

  “So where are we going?” Jack asked as they walked out to her car. She slid behind the wheel, turned on the car and activated the sedan’s directional system, keying in their destination in the GPS.

  Her silk blouse pulling across the soft curves of her breasts, Caroline checked to make sure the way was clear, then backed out of the drive.

  Unable to help but note the way her skirt rode up her thighs as her foot moved from accelerator to brake, Jack turned his attention to the street ahead.

  Oblivious to how aware he was of her, Caroline continued talking business. “Thus far, I’ve only located two venues that can handle an outdoor wedding and reception on short notice. The first—Wedding Bells Ranch—is an hour north of the city, and just opened a couple of months ago.”

  Even the name sounded cheesy, Jack thought with disdain. He turned to shoot her a curious look. A copper-colored strand of hair had fallen across her cheek, partially obscuring the dainty freckles that speckled her high, elegant cheekbones. He ignored the urge to capture the silky strand and tuck it behind her ear. “Have you ever been there?” he asked, forcing himself to concentrate on his task, rather than his attractive companion.

  “No.” Caroline accelerated smoothly and merged onto the freeway. “The photos on their Web site look great, although those can be deceiving.”

  Jack appreciated the deft way she negotiated the heavy city traffic. “Did you check with the Better Business Bureau?”

  “Yes. So far, they’ve had no negative reporting but, as I said, the site has only been open a few months.”

  “And the other location?”

  Her brows knit together. “Is a little over an hour and twenty minutes due west of the city.”

  Jack calculated the mileage and the time it would take to see both. He frowned.

  Caroline held up a silencing hand. “I realize this is probably going to take a big chunk out of both our days, unless the first place works out to your satisfaction.”

  Knowing time was money, Jack said, “Then we’ll hope for the first.”

  Caroline took the exit that would lead them to the countryside. Still all business, she slanted him a glance. “Aren’t you interested in price differential?”

  Traffic instantly became much less intense. Jack relaxed in the bucket seat. “Is there one?”

  She nodded. “The second place is ten percent less. But…the bride and groom need to think about the convenience of their guests. Sometimes if a venue is too far away, guests opt out of attending, especially in Dutch and Patrice’s age group.”

  “True.” Traveling, Jack knew, was harder on his mother these days than it had been in the past. Which made her determination to be on the road so much more puzzling, to say the least. Especially since his mother and Dutch weren’t traveling much at all now. “Then let’s hope the first place works out,” he said.

  IT WAS SO MUCH WORSE than what Caroline had imagined, even in a worst-case scenario. And nothing like the gloriously beautiful pictures on the Wedding Bells Ranch Web site.

  “Can we sue them for false advertising?” Jack joked as they got out of the car.

  Caroline wished she could feel similarly amused. Since she had just been professionally humiliated in front of a man she really wanted to impress, for reasons that had little to do with the business at hand, it wasn’t possible.

  “We should just forget it,” Jack said in disgust.

  Caroline’s conscience wouldn’t let her do that. She had made an appointment. She would follow through, if only briefly. “If you’d rather wait in the car…”

  Jack looked at the peeling paint on the ranch house and barn, the broken-down steps and weed-ridden lawn. “If you’re going up there—” he pointed to the elaborate sign that said Wedding Bells Ranch Office “—so am I.”

  Together, Caroline and Jack walked through the crabgrass to the door.

  Knocked. The door opened. A pretty young woman in paint-splattered jeans and a T-shirt opened the door. “Caroline Mayer, I presume.” She started to extend a hand, then stopped, realizing her fingers were splattered with wet paint. “Hi. I’m Lysette Beasley. Owner. As you can see, we are a work in progress, but I promise you we will be up and running by the end of the summer.”

  “My client is getting married in three weeks,” Caroline said.

  “Three!” Lysette clapped a hand to her chest in surprise. “I saw May 5 on your e-mail appointment request. I guess the year didn’t compute. I just assumed…Who plans a wedding in three weeks?”

  “My mother and her fiancé,” Jack said, grim as ever on the subject.

  “Oh. Dear.” Lysette looked all the more distressed.

  “Oh, dear” was right, Caroline thought.

  “Even under a tent, I don’t think there is any way we could be ready to hold a big gala by then,” Lysette Beasley said.

  Caroline sighed, and took another look around. “I would have to agree.”

  “What about the photos on the Web site?” Jack asked.

  “Those were computer mock-ups of how we want the place to look, when I’m finished renovating,” Lysette said.

  “You should put a disclaimer on the site,” Caroline said, making no effort to disguise her disappointment.

  Lysette wrinkled her nose. “People keep telling me that. But I don’t know. I think it might cost me business.”

  Jack snorted.

  “Having people feel you’ve duped them will cost you business,” Caroline muttered.

  Caroline and Jack headed back to her BMW.

  “Honest misunderstanding,” Jack soothed Caroline with unexpected understanding. He reached over to briefly take her hand. “Anyone could make it.”

  Caroline looked at Jack. Fingers still tingling from the brief unexpected touch, she said, “We’ll try the next one and hope we have a lot better luck.”

  Chapter Four

  “It’s a sign,” Jack said nearly two hours later when they finally had arrived at their destination and completed a tour, which had taken all of five minutes.

  Caroline had an idea how Jack was seeing this locale. It was out in the middle of nowhere, surrounded by other ranches and the occasional small enclave with a few houses, a gas station, post office, church and a general store. To her, though, this flat, barren land that stretched as far as the eye could see—with the picturesque outcroppings of blooming wildflowers, cactus, sage and mesquite—was quintessential Texas, perfect for a Mexican-festival-themed wedding at sunset. She gazed thoughtfully at their surroundings, already picturing where everything would go. Chairs here, wedding gazebo here, dinner tents here, stage for the band and dance floor there—additional flats of Texas wildflowers there. There was so much space they could have one heck of a party.

  Aware Jack was watching her as carefully as she was surveying the land, awaiting her reply, she turned back to him with a small shrug and an officious smile. “I don’t believe in signs.”

  The corners of his mouth turned down into a scowl. “How about fate, then?” He continued l
ooking around with displeasure.

  Caroline brought out her notepad and pen and scrawled a few reminders to herself. Her mind was already made up. “Do you really think I’d be reaching so far outside the realm if it weren’t for the purpose of making your mother and Dutch’s dream come true?”

  Jack scoffed and ran a hand through his hair. “This is outside the realm, all right.”

  Caroline walked slightly ahead to admire the view toward the west, in the direction the sun would set. She paced out to where she thought the actual ceremony should take place, next to a meadow filled with bluebonnets. “The land is flat.” Trying not to notice how his tall, broad-shouldered frame dwarfed her, Caroline continued to make her case for this venue. “All the better to create a parking area, erect the tents and set up a big dance floor.”

  Jack stood, legs braced apart, arms folded in front of him. His eyes darkened with pure disdain. “We’re twenty miles from the nearest town. And there are no bathrooms.”

  Caroline made another note to check pricing on that. “So we’ll haul in Porta Potties.”

  Jack’s jaw dropped open in shock. “At my mother’s wedding?” He looked at her as if she were nuts.

  Caroline wrinkled her nose at him. “Not the yellow kind you see at construction sites and outdoor concerts, silly. The ultraelegant air-conditioned kind housed in trailers that can be hooked up to the campground-style water and power supply the ranch provides. We can set them up around the perimeter, and they’ll form a nice buffer against the highway, so that the view from there will be obscured, giving the wedding party total privacy.”

  That idea, Jack appeared to like. Which didn’t surprise her. He seemed like a quiet, private type of guy. Still waters ran deep, and all that. To the point she was willing to bet that despite his foray into dating, he hadn’t been really close to anyone—in a romantic sense—since his wife had taken off with her ex-husband. The difference between Jack and Caroline was that Caroline had actually tried getting close to someone again. It was just none of the men she had met had really interested her, and things had always fizzled out after the first or second date, never really going anywhere by mutual consent.

  She had been starting to think that she just didn’t have it in her anymore for a sexy romantic relationship, and hence, had decided to stop worrying about it. She would simply never have a man in her life again.

  She would still be in that particular mindset, had Jack not kissed her the other night, and shown her that her desire was still in fine working order.

  Too bad she and Jack were on such different pages otherwise.

  Had she not been planning his mother’s wedding—and had he still not been hoping the event would somehow be derailed—something fun and exciting might have been possible between them.

  But that wasn’t likely to happen, so she had to turn her thoughts back to the event, and concentrate on his endless supply of questions.

  “What about food?” Jack asked, still frowning.

  Caroline looked at him in profile. From the side he was just as fetching, in that scientifically smart “engineer cute” way. Telling her libido to cool down—obviously the hours spent in close quarters in her car had stirred up her hormones again—Caroline replied in her usual precise, businesslike tone that she knew the CEO in Jack would appreciate. “We can haul in portable gas stoves and Sub-Zero refrigerators. Chef For Hire in Fort Worth does just that.”

  Jack smiled for the first time since getting out of her car. “I know. My buddy Dan’s wife, Emily, owns that business.”

  Another connection between the two of them, heretofore, gone unnoticed. How strange was that? “If Emily can do it, we would be all set.”

  Not so fast, Jack’s expression seemed to say. He paced the dusty gravel road that served as the driveway into the party ranch. “Did you notice there are big cattle ranches on nearly all sides of the place?”

  Yes, Caroline had.

  “If the wind hits just right, the whole reception could smell like cow manure.”

  Caroline couldn’t help it; she laughed. “You really are a pessimist,” she chided.

  Jack narrowed his eyes and strode close enough that she got a whiff of soap and man. “I prefer to think of myself as a realist.”

  Even so. Caroline reached out and patted his arm. “I think we’re going to be fine.”

  The ranch owner, a burly fellow named Ted with a handlebar mustache and scraggly goatee, was leaning against his pickup some distance away, a toothpick in his mouth. Having no interest or affinity for agriculture, he’d given up ranching the property he had inherited, torn down all the barbed wire fence as well as the ramshackle house that had been on the property, and turned the one-hundred-and-fifty-acre spread into one large grassy area. Complete with meadows of picturesque wildflowers, it was suitable for parties and gatherings of all kinds. The key selling points to his setting were few restrictions and low price—both of which, in Caroline’s mind, more than made up for the lack of amenities, which could be rented and brought in.

  “Think of this as a blank slate, upon which we can build your mother’s fantasy nuptials,” she advised. It was going to be so much easier to create a Cinco de Mayo theme here than in the traditional wedding venues, which were already booked anyway.

  Jack sighed. “See what kind of cancellation policy you can work out. I want to be able to get most of our money back if the ceremony doesn’t happen.”

  It was Caroline’s turn to scowl at him. “Don’t talk that way. You could jinx the wedding.”

  Jack looked as if he hoped he would.

  Irritated by his lack of faith in his mother, Caroline paused to send Jack a withering glance, then stalked off.

  She negotiated with the owner of Ted’s Party Ranch for a good ten minutes. Finally, she returned to Jack’s side. She handed him the contract with the scribbled numbers. “This is the best I could do, and considering it’s on a Saturday night on Cinco de Mayo, it’s a bargain.”

  Jack studied the pages with a businessman’s assessing eye.

  “He wants a five-hundred-dollar deposit to hold it for you. The rest is payable the day of the event, or as soon as we start bringing in the trailers. Given the logistics, I think we’re probably going to want to start setting up the tents and so on the day before. And that’s okay with Ted. The place is free then, too.”

  Jack got out his checkbook. “If it rains, we’re all going to be miserable,” he predicted.

  “If you don’t stop with the doom and gloom, we won’t have to wait for rain to be miserable. We’ll all be that way now.”

  He looked at her with a mixture of resentment and amusement. “Is that the way you talk to a client?”

  Caroline patted him on the arm, one potential friend to another. “It’s the way I talk to you.” She gave that a moment to sink in. “Cheer up, Jack. Your mother is a smart woman. I have every confidence she knows exactly what she is doing in marrying Dutch. And if you give yourself half a chance to look past your own failed marriage, soon you’ll know it, too.”

  AS SOON AS THEY REACHED Jack’s home in Fort Worth, he headed onto One Trinity River Place to continue supervising the work there. Caroline went inside to talk with Patrice, and show her what they had accomplished thus far.

  Patrice had no problem imagining the festivities. She was pleased that a location had been found, a deposit put down. “The only drawback I can see,” Patrice said, “is the distance from the city.”

  “I’ve thought about that,” Caroline said. “I didn’t know how you would feel, but I was thinking we could arrange for cars and drivers to transport those who need the assistance from the city and back again.”

  “That sounds wonderful.”

  “And there’s something else. I had a call from Fort Worth magazine. They heard you’re getting married and doing a Cinco de Mayo theme, and they want to include your nuptials in an article about unusual Texas weddings. You wouldn’t have to do anything except sign a release allowing photogr
aphs and details of the ceremony to be published. The magazine would send a reporter and a photographer out to the wedding site to cover the ceremony and reception.”

  Patrice smiled. “I think it’s a wonderful idea. And great publicity for you, dear, as I will insist they mention you as the genius behind the festivities.”

  Caroline flushed with happiness. “You don’t have to do that,” she protested.

  “Nonsense.” Patrice patted Caroline’s hand. “It would be my pleasure. We’re both businesswomen. We know the value of good publicity. One positive mention in the press can bring in tons of new business.”

  That was true, Caroline thought.

  It was nice having Jack’s mom cheering her on.

  Maddie skipped up, her dog, Bounder, right beside her. The seven-year-old had a wreath of silk flowers on her head. Her golden retriever wore one around her neck, too. Maddie picked up a handful of blossoms from the basket over her arm. “Me and Bounder are practicing being flower girls!”

  Caroline looked at Jack’s mom.

  Patrice chuckled and explained, “I’ve agreed to let them do it together.”

  Caroline was not surprised. Beloved family pets were often part of the ceremony.

  “Do you think that Daddy will let us do it when he gets married, too?” Maddie asked her grandmother.

  “I imagine, if and when that ever happens, your daddy would be only too ready to agree,” Patrice replied.

  Or in other words, Caroline amended silently to herself while simultaneously congratulating Patrice on her tact, don’t hold your breath waiting for Jack to ever want to trust again.

  And without trust, there could be no love.

  Without love, no real, lasting relationship, no true compatibility or companionship, never mind marriage!

  “What about you?” Maddie asked, sprinkling another handful of flowers over the wide plank pine floor. Maddie paused directly in front of Caroline. “When you get married, can Bounder and I be your flower girls?”

  “Maddie!” Patrice interjected.

 

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