by Sara Daniel
Oh no, she knew better than to get sucked into rating anything. “Just the specials and the drinks and a lot of quarters tonight. If I’m going to taste test, I need to give it my full concentration, and we both know I won’t be able to do that in the Laundromat.”
“You have sushi here?” a woman asked from the doorway.
Veronica turned around. Her mother had stepped into the diner, her gift certificate in hand.
“I do, but I’ll need your opinion on whether it’s as good as what you’re used to in the city,” Pauline said, giving her new customer her full, delighted attention.
“Um, Mother, Jenny would recommend you get a grilled cheese if she were here.”
“I’m sure that’s a lovely choice for an eight-year-old.” Mother paused. “Are you going back to your trailer?”
“No, I’m washing my clothes at the Laundromat. Apparently, the dryers take quite a long time.”
Mother shocked her by giving a satisfied nod. “Good. The longer the better.” With that she walked to the counter, dismissing her. “Now, are you Pauline? Tell me about your sushi.”
Veronica took her food package and hustled out of the diner. Back in the Laundromat, she gave Becca one of the Styrofoam containers, which turned out to be fried chicken, and put a round of quarters in the washer.
“What is this drink?” Becca asked. “It isn’t half bad.”
“Strawberry-mango chilled espresso.” Veronica gave her best Pauline imitation. “Now by ‘not half bad,’ do you mean you’d rate it a seven or a ten point two?”
Becca laughed.
Veronica dropped into the chair next to her. “Pauline thinks if I can help the Hollisters get the community needs center set up, I’ll be able to convince them to replace the appliances in here. What do you think?”
“Replace the washers and dryers? I wouldn’t bet on it, but have you seen the empty backroom?” Becca set down her chicken breast and walked over to push open a scratched door tucked away in the corner. “The location is absolutely perfect, and they wouldn’t have to beg Ron for a big wad of dough for a new building.”
Veronica followed her into the room as she considered Paige’s offer again, which led her to thinking about her grandfather’s promises. “If enough people believe there’s a need—”
“There’s a need,” Becca assured her, “and it deserves a better solution than Wilbur and Agatha giving away their clothes so all they have left are the items that no one of any age would be caught dead wearing.”
“Then we can organize the community to come together to fill it.” Anticipation, rivaling the thrill of Matt’s hand cupping her arm, rolled through Veronica. Unlike with the construction business, she’d been thoroughly trained by her mother on how to get the people and funding in place to pull a charity off the ground and give it momentum.
Her financial and business training had taught her what the organizations needed to become self-sufficient, too. If she convinced the townspeople to trust her, she could come up with a solution that didn’t depend on marrying Trevor just to take advantage of his foundation’s generosity.
Becca arched a brow. “We? Are you planning to stick around?”
“I’ve always planned to, despite everyone else’s tactics to get rid of me.”
“Yeah…about that,” Becca began tentatively. “Sorry I caused that big scene in the grocery store and embarrassed you.”
“It’s all forgiven,” Veronica assured her. She was already moving on to imagining this room filled with gently used jeans, new packages of underwear, and warm coats. How could she not let it happen, simply because the deal Paige had offered made her sick to her stomach?
Becca returned to the laundry room and checked her washing machine. “You have to understand how much Ron has offered to this town. His wife died and his daughter left him in the space of a month. The story goes it was only the bigheartedness of the people here that pulled him through.”
Veronica reluctantly closed the door to the empty backroom. “What’s the story on Matt?”
“That’s easy. He needs to make enough money to buy back Ron’s investment, so he can run the company the way his brother did.”
So he didn’t have to hire people like her. Becca didn’t have to say it. They both already knew.
“He’s all about supporting the projects other people envision for the town. He’d like to donate free labor for all their causes.”
“That’s at odds with his goal of making money to buy out Ron.”
Becca shrugged, as if there was no conflict. “He’ll put the town first. He feels like he owes them that much. They were here for him when he needed them most. Aside from Jenny and honoring his brother’s memory, giving back to the people who helped him is his number-one priority.”
Veronica could either make that her priority, too, or prove that her mother was right when she said her daughter was just plain selfish.
Veronica stepped away from her car onto the grass. She stood for a moment surveying the bustling town park in the bright midday sunshine. To her right, children climbed through colorful plastic playground equipment, laughing and shouting.
Straight ahead, adults milled around a makeshift stage. Some were setting out hula hoops and jump ropes, but most stood chatting with one another. Everyone—adults and children—wore department store jeans or shorts, discount T-shirts, and sneakers or flip-flops.
Veronica rubbed her hand down the side of her black chiffon dress. “It’s tasteful, elegant, and works for any occasion,” Mother had assured her yesterday afternoon. And she—stupidly thinking her mother knew more about small-town life having grown up here—had taken her advice. Mother never missed the mark when it came to dressing appropriately for an occasion, so it didn’t occur to her to get a second opinion from Becca.
She focused on the other side of the stage. Next to a cluster of picnic tables, a very hot construction worker tended to a smoking grill. Matt, of course, was part of the jeans-and-T-shirt crowd. And she had to admit, the outfit looked a lot better on him than anyone else. His white tee fit like a glove against his ripped chest. His jeans fit looser but were well worn, molding to his thighs and backside.
Not wanting him to catch her staring, she deliberately looked away from his tantalizing body and scanned the park for Wilbur. He was the mayor. Surely, he’d be dressed up.
The banker who’d been wearing a suit in the grocery store when he verified her fifty-dollar bill walked across the stage and tested the microphone to an eardrum blast of feedback. He wore a polo shirt, shorts, and Crocs.
On the other side of the playground, a man came shuffling down the sidewalk wearing green plaid pants and a collared shirt with navy-and-yellow stripes—Wilbur, dressed in his finest. Veronica pivoted to return to her trailer, her stiletto heel digging into the soft ground. She’d change clothes and return to the picnic before anyone noticed her gaffe.
“Veronica, you came!” Jenny dashed across the grass to her.
She’d been noticed.
Veronica smiled and opened her arms to give the girl a hug. “Of course I came. Your babysitter worked hard to make this day special.”
“Uncle Matt’s cooking burgers and hot dogs. Do you want one?” She pointed toward the grill.
This time Matt looked straight at her, his gaze traveling the length of her not-so-basic black outfit. Add to the long list of things he and the town would hold against her. She couldn’t do much about anything else, unless she took Trevor’s offer, but she could fix what she was wearing. She forced her gaze back to Jenny. “Maybe later. I’m going to dash home and change into jeans. I’m a little overdressed.”
“No, I love your clothes.” Jenny rubbed the chiffon skirt between two fingers. “My uncle won’t even let me wear high heels.”
“When you’re older, I’m sure you’ll get some,” Veronica said gently. “They can be pretty hard to walk in.” She lifted her heels out of the holes they’d created in the soft ground and walked gingerly to h
er car.
She’d return wearing jeans, a T-shirt, and sneakers and start working on the plan for the community needs center that she and Becca had come up with last night. She turned the key in the ignition. The engine ground an eerie sound. The noise was awful and completely wrong coming from a car.
People turned and looked toward the parking lot. Through the windshield, she could see several of them speaking to Matt, while gesturing toward her at the same time. He held the spatula in his hand but ignored the grill as he watched her, his mouth a flat line. Those hot kisses they’d shared yesterday clearly hadn’t softened his feelings toward her.
Inside her car, every warning light on the dash was lit up—oil, engine, gas—giving her no clue what the real problem was. She opened the Do-It-Yourself Home Improvement Manual on the seat beside her, but it didn’t have a chapter about fixing cars. The vehicle wasn’t going to spring to life on its own, she didn’t have a clue how to make it work, and she’d attracted everyone’s attention.
She was stuck in her inappropriate black dress, so she’d have to make the most of it. While she was networking, she’d also check out who was a mechanic in town. She was either going to win over the townspeople today, or she would go down in a big, designer chiffon flame. Either way, she was guaranteed to get people talking.
…
Veronica’s cleavage was monopolizing the bank president’s attention. For the last twenty minutes, he’d practically drooled in it, periodically nodding his head so she’d think he was listening.
Matt was too far away to have any idea of what she was saying. If she was complaining about the ill treatment she’d received from the town, she could go on for hours on what had been said about her since she’d arrived looking gorgeous and out of place.
“She certainly keeps life interesting around here, doesn’t she?” Connor O’Malley pushed his holster to the side as he propped his foot on a nearby picnic bench. “I’m disappointed I wasn’t on patrol when you had her on a roof. Was she wearing that same dress?”
“No, thank God. Jeez, Connor, she worked her butt off on that roof.”
“So I hear. For a whole fifteen minutes each day before she gets a blister or is too tired or dirty to continue,” Connor scoffed.
Matt concentrated on shifting the burgers around the grill, so he wouldn’t be tempted to smack Connor with the spatula. He’d harbored the same misconceptions when she’d first rolled into town, but it irritated him that anyone could still believe superficiality was part of her true personality. After spending a good part of the week demonstrating there wasn’t any room in his company for a pampered princess, he knew she wasn’t one. “Ask Toby. He’ll tell you how hard she’s been working.”
“Toby.” Connor sighed. “I heard he skipped school again. That boy is going to land himself in serious trouble if he doesn’t watch it.”
“He’s a good guy,” Matt pointed out. “How many kids skip school so they can work instead?”
Connor shook his head. “His friends are trouble, and I worry about Becca. She’s got her hands full already.”
Something in Connor’s tone made Matt take a second look at him. “Becca, huh?”
“By the way, Mrs. Parker’s on my case to arrest you,” Connor said, pointedly changing the subject. “Something about an overdue library book.”
Ugh. If Mrs. Parker was that worked up about it, he wished she would go through with her threat to march over to his house and get the book herself. “What a terrible crime wave. You might need to bring in backup for this case.”
“You’re three weeks overdue. She almost has a case. Can you get her off my back and just return the damn thing?” Connor stared across the park.
Matt could smell the burgers burning, but he ignored the grill to follow Connor’s gaze.
Veronica smiled at the balding banker and gave him an overdone two-handed shake.
“That’s quite the friendly handshake,” Connor said.
Matt’s fingers squeezed around the spatula until his knuckles ached.
“Of course. I don’t know why I didn’t see it before.”
“What?” Matt tried to wrench his gaze away from Veronica but couldn’t. The banker held her hand long after any business handshake would have ended. If he didn’t let go of her right now, Matt was going to march over and deck him.
Veronica pulled away and stepped back, depriving him of the opportunity. She sashayed away from the stage toward the parking lot.
“You’ve got it bad,” Connor said. Before Matt could play dumb, Connor’s attention was diverted to the parking lot. “Holy moly. Towing that Mercedes yesterday was the highlight of the decade for Fred. I didn’t expect it to be around today.”
Mrs. Jamison was back. Kortville Construction could have been all his if he’d taken her offer. Veronica might be on her way to the city to marry that other guy. All his problems would have been solved. But for some reason, he just hadn’t been able to stomach the thought.
“Take over burger duty for a couple minutes.” Matt tossed the metal flipper to Connor and strode across the lawn toward the parking lot, where Veronica was joining her mother.
Mrs. Jamison handed Veronica a platter. She looked at it, and her expression deflated. “Did you bring anything besides sushi?”
“Pauline and I spent five hours last night getting them exactly right. They are the best sushi rolls I have ever had,” Mrs. Jamison declared.
Matt was right in front of them now. He’d eat every single burned hamburger if that platter wasn’t crystal.
“We already stick out like the proverbial sore thumb. People are looking for a reason to resent us,” Veronica said in a low voice.
Her sensitivity to the townspeople’s opinion made him pause. He was as guilty as Connor for thinking she was too busy looking at them with condescension to notice anything else.
She shifted the crystal tray arranged with circles of sushi. “I trusted your judgment when I should have worn jeans and brought a Crock-Pot of baked beans. You might think you’re doing me a favor, but all you’re doing is pushing your daughter further away.”
Matt couldn’t stand still and listen to her heartbreak for another second. “Hey.” He stepped forward and reached out to put his arm around her waist. “Did you bring a dish to pass?”
“Apparently, we did.” Veronica sidestepped his embrace and pasted on a smile. She did it so convincingly he wouldn’t have known she felt out of place if he hadn’t seen her expression moments before.
“I didn’t do this because of you,” Mrs. Jamison said. “I brought the sushi because Pauline worked hard on it. She’s really proud of what she made, and I wanted to help her show it off. And that’s your grandmother’s crystal tray. Don’t get me started on how long it took to convince Daddy to let me borrow it for the day.”
Veronica smiled genuinely this time. “In that case, I think it’s time we introduced Kortville to the culinary delight that is sushi.”
Matt tried not to be like the banker and let his gaze drop below her smile. Unfortunately, allowing his eyes to feast on her full, sultry lips only made him want to kiss off every speck of her rosy-pink lipstick.
Oblivious to his thoughts, she waved Pauline over to join them. “My mother is giving your sushi rave reviews.”
Pauline beamed. “Did you try one yet? Matt, have you tried it?”
“Believe it or not, I’ve had sushi before,” he said. “It’s not my thing.”
Veronica picked up a seaweed-wrapped roll and popped it in her mouth. “Oh wow, Pauline, this is amazing. Mother, you were right. Perfect ten. Ron!” she called, waving him into their circle from the parking lot. “I love your wife’s crystal tray. It’s absolutely stunning. You have the perfect match for this delectable concoction Pauline came up with. Have you tried one of her sushi yet?”
Ron limped over, leaning on his cane, and reluctantly plucked a roll off the tray. He chewed for a moment, considering. “Not bad for something that belongs at the bottom
of the ocean.”
“I knew we’d make some converts,” Veronica said, as if he’d also bestowed the delicacy with a perfect ten. She stood on tiptoe and brushed her lips across Ron’s weathered cheek. “Come on, Pauline. Let’s take these around to the tables and make sure everyone gets a bite.” She walked away, the heels of her ridiculous, bewitching shoes sinking into the ground with each step.
“I thought the sushi would remind her of her favorite food and give her another reason to come home,” Mrs. Jamison said, sounding flummoxed. “But she acts like small-town life agrees with her.”
“A lot of people would say that you’ve come home, too, Angela,” Ron pointed out.
“I might decide to visit on occasion if you would welcome me, but my home is in the city with my husband, Daddy.”
“I thought…if I convinced you to come home, you’d want to stay.”
Matt had never thought of Ron as an old man, but he certainly looked every one of his seventy-eight years as he twisted the end of his cane into the grass.
Mrs. Jamison simply rolled her eyes and turned to Matt. “Have you thought any more about my offer?”
“What offer?” Ron demanded.
“To take my money and buy you out, so he can fire Veronica. She and I have a dinner party in our hometown tonight. She has a man waiting to marry her, and her father needs her to make sure he doesn’t get squeezed out of his own company in a merger.”
“I’m not taking money from my daughter.” Ron hitched up his cane and slammed it down again. “I paid for you to go away to that fancy school so you could come back and run my distribution company, Angela, not marry some rich trust-fund pansy. You are not paying me with a cent of his money.”
“He’s a good person, Daddy. You never gave him a chance.”
“If he’s such a good person, why did Veronica come to me for help getting away from him?”
“Mrs. Jamison.” Jenny skipped toward them. “Can you come see me on the playground? I can do a cool trick on the monkey bars. Come watch, please.” She grabbed her hand and tugged.