by Scott, Lisa
“Sure, that’s what it is,” Kate said.
“It is,” Jeanne said. “I can’t let him end up with her. You know, out of friendship and all.”
“It’s just lunch,” Tonya said.
“He dropped everything and ran when she showed up out of the blue today,” Jeanne explained “I bet she didn’t even take him to lunch, she probably dragged him right to her bedroom.”
“Her room’s the size of the Save Mart,” Kate said, wide-eyed. She shrugged. “She had a sleepover once in high school. I was never invited back. Wonder if it’s ‘cause I was rooting through her underwear drawer trying to find out if she really wore gold-threaded thongs.” She shrugged. “That’s what the McClacken twins told me.”
“Yeah, well, I’d take my own dumpy apartment any day instead of still living at home,” Tonya said.
“She has her own wing, not just her own bedroom,” Jeanne clarified. “She probably never even sees her mother. Brad could be yelling for help, and no one would hear him.”
“If he’s yelling right now, I don’t think it’ll be for help,” Kate said.
Jeanne grabbed the rest of the candy bar from her. “You two are no use at all. Except for the chocolate.”
“I’m sure she’ll tire of him soon,” Tonya said. “If they’re together, it won’t be for long.”
“But then he could be heartbroken,” Jeanne said.
“No, I meant, she’ll tire out today. In bed. She doesn’t look like she has much stamina,” Tonya clarified. “They wouldn’t be doing the deed for long.”
Jeanne groaned. “I’ve got to put a stop this.”
“Maybe it would be good for you if he wasn’t available,” Kate said softly. “I know, I know, not that you like him. I’m just saying.”
Tonya nodded.
“Fine. But if he doesn’t show up for work tomorrow, we’re storming the O’Hara place like it’s the War of the States all over again,” Jeanne promised.
Chapter 8
BRAD DIDN’T show up to work the next morning, but he did call. “Jeanne, can you handle the lunch orders today?”
This was a first. She sank onto a stool, sipping her coffee—the special Hawaiian blend Brad had bought her for Christmas. “Sure. Where are you?”
“Home. Where’d you think I’d be?”
“Just curious is all. Why can’t you make it in today?”
“Tara’s taking me to her meet her mom. We’re going out to dinner tonight. Isn’t that great?”
She spit out her mouthful of joe. Damn. He was falling fast. Guess that’s how it happens for some folks. And he sounded so happy, she couldn’t say no. “So, where’s she taking you?” Flying you to New York, perhaps? A limo ride to Charlotte?
“We’re going to Scalia’s tonight at seven.”
Didn’t know why he needed the whole day off for that. “You sure you know what you’re doing?”
“Of course.”
She dumped her coffee in the sink. It tasted bitter. “Good. I’ve got things under control here.”
But three burned pies later, she realized that was a lie. She couldn’t take it. She had to tell Brad what she thought about this O’Hara madness.
JEANNE KEPT telling herself she wasn’t going to crash their dinner. No, she’d just asked Tonya and Kate to meet her for drinks at Scalia’s bar. At seven-thirty. And Brad would just happen to be there. Of course, the only people usually bellied up to Scalia’s bar were those waiting for a table. The Hideaway was the place to meet friends for a few cold ones.
“I’m just feeling classier than that tonight,” she told herself as she slicked on a second coat of mascara. She hadn’t exactly mentioned to the girls that Brad would be there with the O’Haras.
She slipped on her teal dress, only because she was going to the fanciest place in town. It had nothing to do with how Brad had once mentioned it made her green eyes glow. She drove to the restaurant and waited for the girls to arrive. When Kate pulled up in her Jeep with Tonya, the three of them walked inside.
Jeanne spotted him immediately, like she had Brad radar. He was laughing at something Tara had said. He didn’t even notice them enter the restaurant. Mrs. O’Hara was beaming. Jeanne fumed.
Tonya snatched Jeanne by the sleeve and dragged her over to the bar. “We’ll have three vodka tonics.”
“Give me three of my own,” Jeanne said.
Kate frowned. “Maybe no alcohol for you.”
Jeanne slipped onto a barstool and folded her arms. “I just can’t believe it. He’s getting it on with Tara O’Hara.”
Tonya set her hand on Jeanne’s shoulder. “Technically, they’re not getting it on right now. They’re out to dinner.”
Kate grabbed a swizzle stick lying on the bar and snapped it in half. “With her mother!” She scanned the bar, looking for one of those tiny plastic swords bartenders spear fruit with. Maybe she could use it on Tara.
“Let’s go over this again,” Kate said. “You either can’t, won’t, or don’t want to be with him. It’s gonna be a whole lot easier on you if he’s off the market.”
“Maybe he doesn’t want to be left out when Mr. March turns out to be your dream guy,” Tonya said.
“Right. I know all that. I don’t mind Brad settling down. Just not with her.”
“Girl, she’s the most eligible bachelorette in Willowdale,” Kate said. “Hell, probably in all of Carson County.”
“Why exactly did we come here?” Tonya asked. “Are we supposed to take Mrs. O’Hara back in the alley and rough her up? That’s more my Cousin Inez’s speed, but I’ll do what I can.”
“No,” Jeanne said. “I don’t know. I just wanted to see for myself. Something isn’t right here, and I aim to figure out what.”
Kate nudged Jeanne with her elbow. “Tara’s heading for the bathroom. Might be your chance to find out.”
Jeanne hopped off the stool, took a sip of her drink for courage, and marched to the bathroom—scooting behind the divider in the middle of the room so Brad wouldn’t see her.
Tara was washing up when Jeanne walked in.
“Hi there, sugar,” Tara said.
Probably doesn’t even know my name, thought Jeanne. “Wow, the Anti-Valentine’s party worked its magic for you.”
“It did. Thanks so much. It was a lot of fun—and I got to meet Brad. I’m expecting an engagement ring by the end of the month thanks to that party.”
Jeanne dropped her purse. “What? Are you kidding me? Don’t you think that’s a little soon?”
“No. We’re out there talking about plans for the engagement party right now.”
Jeanne picked up her purse and tucked it under her arm so she couldn’t throw it at Tara. She had a lot of lipsticks in there she liked. “Did Brad tell you his stance on children?”
Tara looked at herself in the mirror, fluffing her auburn hair. “What? He doesn’t want any at the engagement party?”
“No. He doesn’t want any at all. And you strike me as the type to have a gaggle of kids someday, dressed in expensive matching baby ball gowns.” Jeanne walked toward her until Tara was backed up against the wall. “Stay away from Brad. You’re not good enough for him.”
Tara blinked at her, then pushed past her, laughing. “Oh, my God. You thought I was interested in Brad?”
“You introduced him to your mother tonight. You’re talking about an engagement party.”
Tara rolled her eyes. “For me and Parker Reynolds. My ex? At least he was until he found out I was dancing with Brad at your little shindig. Now he wants me back, and I told him only if I get a ring. And I’m so confident it’s going to happen, I was talking to Brad about engagement party ideas.”
“Oh.” Jeanne forced a smile. “Oh, how lovely for you. Congratulations. We’d love to cater your engagement party.”
“I don’t think so. Not if you’re part of the package.” Tara stormed out of the bathroom in just the dramatic way you’d expect from someone with the last name O’Hara.
/> Jeanne followed her as she walked back to the table. Tara didn’t sit down. “Come on Mama, let’s go.”
“Whatever for? Brad here was just telling me about his lovely caviar crepes. He thinks we should have the party at the Historical Society in Whitesville if we don’t want to wait for the weather to clear and have it in our backyard.”
“Elegant Eats isn’t catering my engagement party. This woman—his partner—says I’m not good enough for him.”
“What’s this nonsense?” Brad asked.
“I kind of thought you two were dating,” Jeanne said, twisting her fingers in front of her.
Tara and her mother threw their heads back and let out identical cackles.
Brad ran his hand down his face. “I’ve been working on some big plans for Tara’s engagement party, and possibly her reception, too,” he said through a fake smile.
Jeanne put her hand on her heart. “I am so sorry. I just thought …”
Sarah O’Hara put her hand on her hip and leveled Jeanne with a stare. “You thought my daughter wasn’t good enough for one of the town drunks’ sons?”
All conversation in the restaurant stopped.
One look at Jeanne’s dropped jaw, and Kate and Tonya rushed over.
“I think it’s time to go,” Kate said.
Jeanne ripped her arm away and pointed at Sarah. “You apologize to Brad.”
Brad looked up with sad eyes. “Jeanne calm down. It doesn’t matter.”
“It does. They shouldn’t talk that way about you. No matter what your parents did, you’re a good person. And if I can see that, anyone else should be able to.” Jeanne balled her fists and stared down Mrs. O’Hara. “Apologize.”
“For what? I think you’d be glad I put him in his place,” Mrs. O’Hara said.
Tara crossed her arms. “Any sane person would hate him. Instead, you’re in love with him.” Tara twirled her finger around the side of her head.
Jeanne gritted her teeth. “I’m not crazy. And I’m not in love with him. I just didn’t want him hurt by someone like you. I wanted you to stay away from him.”
“Don’t worry, I will. There’s no chance in hell your company is catering my engagement party—or any other event in town. I’ll be sure of that,” Tara said, tipping over her chair as she stalked toward the door.
Mrs. O’Hara followed her. “Tara, honey. We’ll bring in the best caterer from Charlotte. Wait!” She chased her out the door.
Kate put her arm around Jeanne while Brad dropped his head in his hands.
The waiter approached. “I’ll get you the check, sir.”
“Perfect,” he muttered.
“Let’s get you home, Jeanne,” Kate said.
“I’ll give her a ride. We need to talk,” Brad said.
And damn those girls, they scooted right out of the bar, leaving her with one very angry business partner.
BRAD OPENED his passenger door for Jeanne and did his best not to slam it shut. He took a few deep breaths then climbed in the driver’s seat. He held the steering wheel for a while before saying anything.
“Why in the world would you think I’d be interested in someone like her? I thought you knew me better than that, J.”
The silhouette of the mountains up ahead loomed like a crowd of bullies.
“I saw you dancing and laughing. And then you went to lunch the next day. I just assumed …”
He rolled his eyes. “How could you assume we were going on a date? I was trying to drum up some business from the richest folks in town, and I was this close to nabbing it, too. Do you know the connections we could’ve made at Tara O’Hara’s engagement party? Remember how we thought the O’Haras were out of our league? I was this close, Jeanne. This close.” He pinched his fingers together.
Tears ran down Jeanne’s cheeks, and he silently cursed himself for being such a shit. He squeezed her shoulder. “Why didn’t you come to me first?”
“I don’t know. I got crazy over the idea of you being with her.” She folded her arms across her chest and looked out the window.
“I’m not mad. We just could have used the business.”
“But we’ve got the residential center party soon. That’s a biggie.”
“I know.” He forced a smile. “Something else will come up. Maybe I should have you do a pitch for Mr. March. He works at a bank in Whitesville.”
“Mr. March. Almost forgot.”
But Brad hadn’t forgotten. And he wondered if he’d be as possessive and protective as Jeanne had been about Tara if she actually fell for one of those guys.
THE NEXT DAY at work, neither of them brought up Tara O’Hara. Part of Brad wanted to laugh at how jealous she’d been. But the misunderstanding had cost them a good client. It had never crossed his mind Jeanne would think they were dating. He bit back a grin remembering Jeanne’s wild eyes the night before.
“What?” she asked while cleaning up her workstation. Brad usually cleaned up again afterward when she wasn’t looking.
“Nothing.” He still struggled to stifle a smile.
“So, what’s on the agenda for this week?”
All thoughts of grinning disappeared. “A luncheon for the police department.”
She smacked her hands together, sending a little cloud of flour into the air. “Your brother sent us some work? That was nice. What’s it for?”
Brad scratched his head. “The State DOT is coming to town to decide if they should install a stop light on Main Street.” He let it hang there for a moment.
“Oh.” She blinked a few times and blew out her breath.
“I can handle it. Just half a dozen people or so. We really only need one person to serve.”
She nodded. “I wonder why they’re looking into that now.”
He knew she was trying to brush it off, but he heard a current of pain in her voice that wouldn’t be noticeable to many other people.
His flexed his fingers, uncertain whether or not he should reach out to her. “There’ve been other accidents there over the years. It’s some publicity thing, fixing dangerous roads around the state.”
She didn’t say anything.
“Of course, any road is dangerous when you’re drinking.” He pulled her into his arms. She fit just perfectly against him, like she was made for him. “I’m sorry, you know. I’ve never told you that.”
She looked up at him while tears slipped down her cheeks. “I’m sorry for you, too.”
He smudged away a tear with his thumb, his hand cupping her face. “We’ve never really talked much about it. It was always such a taboo thing. Stay away from the Clark girls. It was stupid that they did that in school. Guess it just seemed impossible or wrong to talk about it once we became friends.”
“But what would we even have said? My parents are dead. Your mother is gone.” She looked away.
“For what it’s worth, I’m sorry. I’m so, so sorry.” He rested his cheek on the top of her head, crying. But he didn’t care. Not with Jeanne. She tightened her grip around his waist.
He tipped her chin up to make her look at him. “You deserved a family.”
Tears clung to her eyelashes like jewels. “So did you.”
He bent down to kiss her but thought better of it. He brushed his lips across her cheek and pressed her head against her shoulder. They clung to each other for a good while until she sniffed and pulled away.
“Maybe now you understand why I so desperately want the family I never had.”
He took a step back. “And maybe you can understand why I’m not willing to take the chance that I’d ruin a family, just like both of my parents did. Look at what the two of them did.”
Jeanne pointed at him. “You wouldn’t be like them. You’re your own person. You can learn from their faults.”
“See, this is why—” He stopped himself. Admitting how he felt about her would be wrong. “This is why you and I getting together again would be a mistake.”
“Yep. A great big mistake.” She took
of her apron and tossed it on the island. “I’ll see you tomorrow.”
Chapter 9
THEY DIDN’T TALK about the traffic light meeting again, but soon enough the day arrived, and Brad was finishing up the luncheon for eight. As he prepped his chicken salad sandwiches—croissants and pecans, his signature ingredients—he kept glancing at Jeanne.
She set down the peach she was peeling and put her hand on her hip. “I’m fine. It’s been almost twenty years. I can come and help you serve if you want. I even got dressed up for it, if you hadn’t noticed.”
Oh, he’d noticed. Her black pants fit her curves nicely, and he might suggest buttoning the top button on her blouse if she did come to the meeting. “We don’t need two people to serve eight.”
She banged her fist on the countertop. “Dang it, Brad, I want to be there. This involves my family, too.”
He gulped and nodded, too much of a coward to tell her he didn’t want her to come because he didn’t want to risk seeing any sadness in her face. “All right, can you get the coffee service ready?”
They loaded the food and equipment without saying much. He’d once laughed through a talk show Jeanne made him watch featuring a woman who claimed she could see people’s auras. Invisible colored lights hovering around people? Bullshit. But right now, it felt like they were both surrounded by muddy blue halos.
They’d just finished setting up in the police department conference room when Tommy led in a group of suits. Their mood was somber, too.
“Good, the food’s here,” Tommy said. “Hope you brought extra for Dolly. She perked right up when she heard you were bringing your chicken salad.”
Brad forced a smile. “We’ve got extra.”
Tommy put his hand on Brad’s shoulder. “This is my little brother, Brad. ’Course, he’s taller than me now, but he’ll always be my little brother.”
Some of the men came over to shake Brad’s hand. The lone woman in the group just smiled at him.
“So sorry for your loss,” she said.
Brad looked over at Jeanne, who was spending more time than necessary arranging the sweeteners and tea bags for the coffee service. He walked over to her. “This is Jeanne Clark. Both her parents were killed in the crash.”