“Of course not,” Tom said. “It won’t happen again. Let’s get right to those reports. Mary Vaughn, how are you coming with contacting the church choirs?”
“We have commitments from the First Baptist Church and the Methodists,” she reported. “I know we’ve never asked the choir at Main Street Baptist to participate before, but I think it’s time that changed. This is a new era and the whole community should be represented.”
Tom nodded approvingly. “I totally agree. Howard, do you foresee any problems with that?”
Howard looked taken aback at first, then shook his head.
“To tell you the truth, I thought they’d been invited in the past and turned us down.”
“You know that’s not so,” Mary Vaughn contradicted. “You and everybody always tiptoed around it, but the truth is, nobody wanted to take the chance of stirring up trouble. We ought to be long past such discrimination in Serenity, if you ask me.”
“For whatever it’s worth, I agree,” Ronnie said. “They have an excellent choir and they ought to be included. Race shouldn’t even be an issue in this.”
“That’s settled then,” Tom said. “Mary Vaughn, you’ll speak to their choir director and report back next week.”
She smiled at him. “I’ll call you or stop by and let you know as soon as I’ve spoken to her,” she told him.
“Okay, then. Ronnie, what have you found out about decorations?”
For the next hour they looked at pictures of a variety of options, from lighted snowflakes to banners for light poles. From Tom’s perspective, it was much ado about nothing, but Howard and Mary Vaughn carried on as if the entire success of the festival hinged on the selection.
“Budget, people,” Tom said at last. “I’ve only been able to find a very small discretionary fund we can use for this. We can’t afford to go overboard.”
“If we decide on the snowflakes, I can negotiate a discount,” Ronnie offered. “I stock a lot of merchandise from this supplier. I think he’ll cut me a deal.”
“Then it’s decided,” Howard said, looking pleased.
“We’ll have snowflakes lit up all over downtown, along with twinkle lights in the oaks and palmettos, plus the town Christmas tree we’ll light on the first night of the festival. Ronnie, you’ll supervise a town crew getting everything in place, right?”
“I can do that,” Ronnie agreed.
Tom covered his vendor report in under a minute, then adjourned the meeting. As the others were leaving, he beckoned Ronnie to follow him into his office.
“Where’s Jeanette?” he asked.
Ronnie gave him a sympathetic look. “No idea. You must really have ticked her off last night for her to blow off a commitment she made to Maddie to serve on this committee. What’d you do?”
“I have no idea. How am I supposed to fix a problem if I don’t know what it is?” He was frustrated by the situation and by the fact that Jeanette’s behavior mattered at all. He’d been so careful all these years to avoid romantic entanglements for precisely this reason. They were an unnecessary distraction. And yet he couldn’t seem to let go of his fascination with Jeanette. Lust was certainly part of it, no question about it, but there was more. She touched him on some level no other woman ever had.
“You could ask her why she’s upset,” Ronnie suggested.
“Or you could just start groveling and see how it goes.”
“I’ve never groveled in my life,” Tom protested, then winced at the implied arrogance in the comment.
“You ever have a woman as mad at you as Jeanette seems to be?”
“More than likely,” Tom admitted ruefully. “It’s just never been this important before.” He had zero experience with a woman capable of twisting his insides into a knot the way this one did.
“Well, if you want my opinion, a man’s never too old to learn all the ways to apologize to a woman. Believe me, I had plenty of practice with Dana Sue.” He slapped Tom on the back. “And look at us now. We couldn’t be happier.”
Tom nodded. “Flowers or candy?”
“Jeanette strikes me as a hard sell. You’ll need to be more inventive than that.”
“I’ll work on it,” Tom said.
For the rest of the morning, Tom wrestled with the town’s budget and with possible ways he could make amends with Jeanette. He was so distracted by the latter that Teresa finally called him on it.
“You aren’t paying a bit of attention to anything I say,”
she accused, taking a seat across from him. “Not that that’s anything new, but would you mind telling me what’s more important than your job?”
“It’s a personal matter,” Tom said.
“Must have something to do with that argument you and Jeanette had over at Helen and Erik’s last night.”
He stared at her incredulously. “How on earth do you know about that? None of her friends would be out spreading rumors first thing this morning.”
Teresa regarded him benevolently. “You have a lot to learn about Serenity. Grace Wharton’s cousin lives next door. She saw Jeanette storming out of there and you not far behind. She put two and two together and told Grace, who’s probably told everyone who stopped by to have breakfast at Wharton’s this morning.”
“And you heard it from one of these people?”
“No, I heard it from Grace herself. I have a bowl of oatmeal at Wharton’s every morning so I know the latest on what’s going on around town. Nothing much gets past Grace or me.”
“Does this town even need the weekly newspaper?”
“Not really, though I will say the reporters over there tend to stick with the facts and don’t put a lot of interpretation on ’em. At least, not since they tried to spin what was going on between Maddie and Cal at the spa before that place opened. Once they’d stirred up that hornets’ nest, things changed. Now it’s pretty dull reading.”
“Well, thank heaven for that,” he muttered.
“So, is that what’s on your mind?” Teresa asked. “Because it seems to me you’d get a lot more done if you just took the time to go over to the spa and settle things with Jeanette before you waste the entire day, instead of just the morning.”
He stood up. “You know what, Teresa? For once, you and I are in total agreement about something. I’ll be back in an hour.”
“A smart man might consider stopping by Sullivan’s to pick up some of that apple bread pudding she loves or maybe a selection of scones,” she advised as he was going out the door. “I’ll call Dana Sue and tell her you’re coming. They’re not open yet so just poke your head in the kitchen when you get there, if she’s not around out front.”
He considered balking at Teresa’s interference, but concluded she’d come up with an excellent plan. “Thank you.”
“Take your time coming back,” she said. “I’ll keep things running around here.”
“I don’t doubt it,” he said.
He’d made it as far as Sullivan’s when he was accosted by Mary Vaughn.
“My goodness, twice in one day!” she said, tucking her arm through his. “How lucky am I? I see you’re heading to Sullivan’s. Will you join me for lunch? They won’t be open for a few minutes, but I’m sure they won’t mind if we get there early.”
Oh boy, he thought. This time she didn’t even attempt to disguise the invitation by mentioning real estate. He needed to handle the situation diplomatically. Maybe he just needed to turn her down enough times that she’d get the message without getting any hurt feelings.
“I’m afraid I can’t,” he said, edging away from her. “I’m grabbing some takeout that Teresa called ahead to order. I have a meeting to get to.”
“You’re certainly busier than any town manager we’ve had before,” she grumbled, not even trying to hide her disappointment. “I suppose I’m just going to have to call and make an appointment if I want to spend any time with you.”
“I’m pretty tied up these days,” he said carefully, hoping that would dissuade her from any further attempts to hook up with him. “There’s always a lot to learn on a new job.”
He glanced deliberately at his watch. “Sorry, Mary Vaughn. I really do have to run.”
As Teresa had directed, he went inside and dashed directly into the kitchen, picked up the bag Dana Sue had waiting for him and paid her for it, then glanced toward the backdoor. “Any chance I can get out of here that way?”
“You hiding from someone?” she inquired.
“Mary Vaughn,” he said in a low voice.
“Enough said,” she said, gesturing toward the door. “The alley runs parallel to Main Street. In fact, if you take it to the end, it will take you all the way to Palmetto.”
He gave her a sharp look. “Oh?”
“That order is for Jeanette, isn’t it? Ronnie told me you were trying to come up with some way to make amends. When Teresa called, I put two and two together.”
“Is everybody in this town good at that kind of math?”
he asked testily.
She beamed at him. “Pretty much. Good luck, by the way. Jeanette’s a wonderful woman, but she doesn’t say much about herself. We’ve known her three years and none of us have ever met her family or even heard much about them. From the amount of time she spends at the spa, I get the feeling she’s a bit of a loner.”
“You think there’s a reason for that?”
“Isn’t there usually?” Dana Sue said. “I just think she’s erected some pretty thick barricades around her heart. Don’t try tearing them down if it’s just a game to you.”
He heard the warning and understood it. “I can’t say this with a hundred percent certainty, but I don’t think it is.”
“Maybe you ought to be sure,” she said.
“How can I be without getting close enough to find out just how well suited we are?”
“Fair enough,” Dana Sue said, though she didn’t look entirely happy about it.
Tom left Sullivan’s, cut down the alley all the way to Palmetto, then happened upon a flower vendor. He grabbed a huge bouquet of summer flowers to add to his offering for Jeanette, then made his way over to the intersection with Main where The Corner Spa was situated. The parking lot out back was full, he noted as he walked around the building to the front.
Now that he was at the spa, he realized that the one thing he hadn’t considered was the no-men-allowed rule. Would one of those personal trainers try to toss him out on his backside before he ever made his way to Jeanette? He’d just have to risk it. Right now he was determined enough to fix things with her that he’d happily deck anyone who tried to prevent it. Keeping his eyes straight ahead, he walked inside and headed for what looked to be a suite of offices. He’d made it about ten paces into forbidden territory when Maddie stepped into his path. Even though she was obviously trying to look stern, a smile tugged at her lips.
“You know you’re not supposed to be in here,” she scolded. He shoved the flowers into her arms. “Couldn’t you bend the rules for about ten minutes?” he pleaded.
“You think you can win Jeanette over in ten minutes?”
“I plan to give it my best shot. Is she with a client?”
Maddie shook her head. “She’s taking a break on the patio. I don’t think anyone will get too riled up if you go out there.” She grinned. “Other than Jeanette, of course. I can’t speak for her. She seems fairly annoyed with you.”
“Believe me, I get that.” He leaned down and pressed a kiss to her cheek. “Thank you.”
“You’re welcome,” she said, and handed the flowers back to him. “Something tells me you’re going to need all of this and more. Good luck.”
“Who needs luck?” he asked jauntily. “I have flowers, scones and bread pudding.”
Outside he found Jeanette reading a dog-eared copy of a romance novel. He found that encouraging. Apparently she wasn’t totally immune to love, even if she preferred the fictional variety.
“Does the guy get the girl?” he inquired, sitting down next to her.
She looked up from the book, then blinked. “What are you doing here?”
“I came to see you.”
“I meant in the spa, during regular hours. Maddie will have a fit.”
“Actually I’m here with her blessing,” he said. He tried to hand her the flowers, but she ignored them. He gave up and set them on the table. “I brought bread pudding and scones, too.”
Her gaze narrowed. “From Sullivan’s?”
“Of course.”
“Whose idea was that?”
“A number of people reached a consensus,” he said.
“Meaning?”
“Ronnie suggested I grovel. Teresa mentioned the bread pudding and scones. Dana Sue added her two cents when I picked up the order. I spotted the flowers on my way over. I tried giving them to Maddie as a bribe, but she said I’d probably need them for you.” He studied her hopefully. “Is any of this working?”
She managed to keep her expression unyielding for another minute, but then she eyed the bag he’d set on the table. “Did you remember the ice cream on the pudding?”
“It might be soup by now, but I believe it’s on there.”
“Okay, then,” she said, reaching eagerly for the bag. She took a deep breath as she opened it, then sighed. “Is there anything better than the scent of cinnamon or freshly baked scones?”
“I think whatever that scent is you’re wearing is better,”
he said candidly.
She looked startled by the compliment. “Lavender?”