Flirting With Temptation (4 page)

“She wouldn’t be matchmaking, she’d be match-
mending
. She’d mend relationships that have gone off to the wayside. Heaven knows everyone has someone hiding in their past that they’d like to know . . . what if things would’ve happened differently? Or something like that. Babette could help them find out. Sure, there’s lots of people out there matching people, but there isn’t anyone mending old fences.”

“You think I could actually
be
a love doctor?”

“People pay real doctors big bucks to fix them when they’re sick,” Granny said. “Why wouldn’t they pay a love doctor big bucks to fix a love gone bad?”

“Clarise,” Ethan said, and Babette sensed the voice of reason about to make an appearance in this bizarre conversation.

But Clarise had other plans. She looked pointedly at her husband. “Yes, Ethan.” Her look said plenty, but mostly, don’t mess with my sister, or you won’t be messing with me tonight.

Evidently he got it, and he grinned. “I think I’ll take the kids over to get some rose petals. Richard and Genie should be leaving soon, and I don’t want them to miss out on tossing them at the bride and groom.”

Clarise returned his grin. “Great idea.”

“A love doctor, huh?” Babette said, after Ethan left.

“I can totally see you doing it,” Clarise said. “You’d be terrific. And you could use your new body language skills.”

Babette thought about it. She’d been through twenty-three jobs with no success, but never had she created her own position. And they were right; she did like helping people get together. Just look at Richard and Genie. She glanced across the room where Jesilyn was standing near Robbie but looking at Babette. Jesilyn waited for Robbie to look in the other direction, then held up the okay sign, obviously questioning Babette on whether she had a problem with the two of them together.

Babette smiled, reciprocated the gesture, then looked back to her sister and grandmother. “Babette Robinson, the love doctor,” she whispered softly, but inside she was cheering. She likened the idea to Will Smith’s character in the movie
Hitch
, except where he used technique (and a bit of deception) to get people together, Babette would simply use the feelings and emotions that already existed, but were hiding beneath the surface. She’d need to get as many books as she could find on body language and intimate behavior. If she was going to do this right, she’d need to hone her skills.

How about that, four degrees and she was trying out a career where she was basically her own instructor. Excitement bubbled through her.

“What do you think?” Granny Gert asked.

“I think,” she said, “that it just might work.”

Chapter 2

I
sn’t it something that the
Birmingham News
ran that article about the Love Doctor by the wedding announcements? And right next to the photo of your most recent success story too!” Granny Gert sounded almost as excited as Babette felt. She’d only been officially in business six months, and she already had a feature story in the paper. Not bad.

“It’s definitely something,” Babette said, still scanning the paper, even though she knew she should get back to paying her bills.

“Um, did you happen to see the other article of interest in today’s paper? The Gossip column,” Granny asked, leaning out of the kitchen to catch Babette’s reaction.

Babette didn’t try to hide the fact that she knew what Granny was talking about. “The article mentioning Jeff and Kitty’s breakup?”

“That’s the one. I’m really surprised it took them this long to find out and report it, aren’t you? Clarise told us about it at least a month ago. I’m betting the paper picked it up now because of the wedding date and all. Wasn’t it supposed to be around now?”

“It would’ve been this past Saturday,” Babette said. Two days ago, to be exact. “I wish Jeff would have told Ethan the details, then we could have at least found out what happened from Clarise.”

“Well, you can’t fault the boy for refusing to kiss and tell, or break up and tell,” Granny said. “I think it says a lot about his character that he hasn’t.” She waited a beat, then asked the same thing she’d been asking for the past month, ever since Clarise had told them that Jeff’s wedding was off. “Have you called him? He’s officially available again, you know. And if you ask me, you two shouldn’t have ever broken up in the first place.” She turned back toward the stove and mumbled, “Don’t know what he ever saw in that uppity thing anyway.”

“I haven’t called him, Granny. You do realize it’s been nearly a year since we’ve even seen each other, let alone talked. Don’t you think it’d be kind of odd for me to call him up now?”

“Have I ever told you about when I cornered your Grandpa Henry in the barn?”

“Yes, Granny, you have.”

“Well, that’s the problem with relationships nowadays. No one out there has any gumption, or if they do, they simply aren’t using it. If you ask me.”

Babette smiled, knowing better than to argue with Granny on her favorite subject. Gumption.

Granny continued moving around the kitchen, and Babette put the paper aside and powered up her computer. Eventually, Granny peeked back out to glance at Babette’s usual spread of bills next to her laptop on the table. “Getting better? Your money situation, I mean?”

“Yes, getting better.” Babette divided her bills into her typical three stacks—paid, need-to-pay, and wish-I-could-pay. Thankfully, there was only one remaining in that last category, but it was her biggest student loan. She’d knocked off her other debts one by one over the past few months, ever since she’d started The Love Doctor, and after that last monstrous-sized student loan was gone, she’d really be, as Granny Gert said, “living in high cotton.”

“Well, I’ve got a new client for you,” Granny said, stirring the spaghetti sauce while she spoke. “That’ll add some more money to the pot.”

Babette took her attention away from the bills and focused on her grandmother. “A new client?”

Granny Gert’s bold platinum waves shifted as she nodded. “She’s a bit beyond her prime, but she’s feisty and she’s got a lot of sass, so I don’t think she’ll be too difficult to fix up. See, she’s wanting to reconnect with an old flame. Or maybe ‘old flame’ isn’t the correct term. It’s an old
friend
, who could potentially turn into an old flame. Or I guess I should say new flame. Anyway,”—she paused, shrugged a little, then continued—“well, she’s been thinking about giving the dating scene a try again for quite a while.” Her top teeth grazed her lower lip, and her brows eased up a notch. “What do you think? Will you help her out?”

It didn’t take a rocket scientist to know exactly who her grandmother was talking about. Babette’s eyes widened, and she couldn’t control the fact that her voice pumped up the volume on her reply. “Granny, are you wanting me to fix
you
up with someone?” Last year, when Babette had been working at Shady Pines, Granny Gert had said she was thinking about dating again, but then she’d never said anything more about it. Babette had assumed she’d changed her mind.

Obviously, she hadn’t.

“I called my friend Sally Mae Lovett the other day. See, Sally Mae and I went to high school together, and every now and then we call each other and chat and catch up on our old classmates, folks that we’ve seen around, or lately, the ones who’ve passed on.” She paused. “Kind of sad when you stop talking about who got married, or had kids, or had grandkids, and start talking about who’s still living. It kind of goes through stages, you know, keeping up with the folks in your past. This last stage isn’t much fun, most of the time.”

Babette nodded. She’d noticed lately that her own conversations with friends from high school had changed as well. Used to be, they’d talk about who married who, but lately, that talk had turned to who had children. Apparently, she was running a stage behind the remainder of her group.

“Anyway, I remembered the last time we talked that Sally Mae mentioned someone, and I wanted to see what all she knew about him.”

“What’s his name?”

“Rowdy Slidell, and he still has all of his teeth,” Granny Gert said above the boiling water hissing on the stove. Turning from Babette—but not before Babette noticed her cheeks were slightly flushed from the current subject—she dropped a fistful of spaghetti noodles in the pot. “He’s got a bit of a nose, but I don’t really care about that. The main thing is the teeth, and Sally Mae said she saw him at the Super Wal-Mart in Tuscaloosa and that he definitely has his own chops. She said he’s lost all of his hair and has a head that’s slick as a baby’s butt, but in a Bruce Willis kind of way.”

“I’ve never thought of Bruce Willis’s head as anything remotely resembling a baby’s behind,” Babette said to Granny Gert, who was cooking enough pasta for an army, even though they were the only two dining. She often insisted on cooking for the two of them, claiming that she’d eventually, somehow, put some meat on Babette’s bones. Hadn’t happened yet, but Babette sure didn’t mind letting her try. Granny Gert could seriously cook, and Babette seriously couldn’t. Granny turned the knob on the stove to adjust the heat. She looked . . . relieved, and Babette suddenly wondered how long she’d been trying to get up the nerve to tell her about this Rowdy Slidell.

She bit back the urge to laugh at the idea of her grandmother as flustered as a teenager and pulled her laptop toward her to put her mind on something that would keep her from giggling. Yep, her last student loan’s balance was the perfect solution. No reason to laugh there, even though it was way better than it’d been in the past.

“But you’ve got to admit,” Granny Gert continued, “Bruce is slick. Hair or not, he’s one nice package, and according to Sally Mae, so is Rowdy. He was a looker in high school, even if I never took much stock in it back then; I was smitten with your grandpa Henry. But I’m fairly sure Henry wouldn’t have wanted me all by my lonesome forever, you know, and he always liked Rowdy.”

“Rowdy,” Babette repeated, while she clicked the keys and continued paying her bills online.

“That isn’t his real name,” Granny Gert explained, then tasted a spoonful of her thick red sauce. “Needs more basil.” She located the green spice container and dashed a surplus of leaves in the pot, then spooned another bite. “Mmm, that’s better.”

Granny Gert set down her spoon and turned to face Babette. “So, are you going to take my case and hook me up with him?” She tore the white paper off the long loaf of French bread Babette had picked up from the Kroger bakery, then she inhaled deeply as the yeasty smell claimed even more attention than the garlic and basil previously overpowering the kitchen.

Babette turned from her computer screen to view her grandmother. Big, bold waves framed her round face in a Marilyn Monroe style that, according to Granny Gert, was timeless. Babette agreed. In her shiny peach dress, matching lipstick and glittery blush, she radiated spunk and sass. No wonder she was interested in hooking up with an old high school buddy who still had his own teeth. Granny Gert didn’t deserve to spend all of her remaining years alone, and she was right; Grandpa Henry wouldn’t have wanted her to.

“I’ll try to help you hook up with Rowdy, but like I’ve told you before, finding people isn’t exactly what I do. I meet with them, read their emotions by what they say—or don’t say—and guide them toward the relationship that both parties typically want, but are either too afraid or too stubborn to admit.”

“Oh, I know, child. You’re a fence-mender, and I don’t exactly have a fence that needs mending, but I still think you could help me locate him.” She stirred the sauce. “It’d add to your repertoire, you know, if you started locating long lost loves as well, or lost friends who potentially could be more, in my case. I just need you to tell me where in the world he’s living, what he’s doing now, that kind of thing. It must be near Tuscaloosa, if he was shopping at the Super Wal-Mart there, don’t you think? I figure I can plan some, you know, coincidental meeting or something.” She winked. “Maybe you can even give me some pointers on how to do that. I’m afraid I might be a bit rusty on that kind of thing, flirting and all.”

“I highly doubt that,” Babette said, grinning as her grandmother slathered gobs of garlic butter across the sliced bread.

Granny Gert finished with the garlic and slid the pan in the oven, then dusted her hands over the sink before slapping them together in a when-do-we-start move. “So, how much do you charge? And don’t give me some cheap family rate. I want to pay full price, and I know you need the money.”

“I’m doing fine on money, and I’m not charging you.” Babette held up a palm when Granny Gert inhaled to argue. “I mean it. I’d love to help you find this Rowdy guy. It really shouldn’t take more than keying in his name on Google. I’ll need his real name, of course.”

Granny Gert clicked her tongue against the roof of her mouth, then frowned. “That’s the hard part. I can’t
remember
his real name, and neither can Sally Mae. She went with me to the fortieth reunion, since I didn’t want to go by myself and all, after Henry passed. I talked to Rowdy, and I remembered her chatting him up a spell too, so I thought she might have gotten his real name.”

“But she didn’t?”

“No. Well, she might have, but she said if he told her, she’d already forgotten it. That’s probably the case, since none of our memories are what they used to be.”

“What about your high school yearbook? That’d have his real name, wouldn’t it?”

“In our yearbooks, it says Rowdy Slidell. I did an Internet search for Slidells in Tuscaloosa, but there are fifty-seven, and none of them ring a bell.” Granny tasted another spoonful of sauce. “Lord help me, that’s good stuff,” she said, smacking her lips. “Okay, on to the particulars. I’m going to pay you, young lady, so don’t even try to argue with me about that. Think you can find him?”

“I’ll give it my best shot, and you can pay me by teaching me how to cook.”

Her grandmother’s mouth fell open, then slowly closed and curved into a grin. “Well, I’ll be. You really are starting to settle, aren’t you? Paying off your bills, getting a real job, one that has lasted longer than any of the others, I might add.”