Man of the Month (Willowdale Romance Novel) (4 page)

TONYA AND KATE were already sipping their sodas when Jeanne slipped into the booth.

“So?” Tonya asked.

Jeanne shook her head and started laughing until tears slipped down her cheeks. “Disaster.” She relived the night, blow by horrifying blow. By the time she’d rehashed everything, ate a big burger and finished a slice of Rita’s carrot cake, she was feeling better.

Kate wrapped an arm around her and squeezed. “The bad dates help you sift out the good ones.”

“Did it at least get your mind off Brad?” Tonya asked.

Jeanne set her fork down and pushed the plate away. “My mind wasn’t on Brad. Other than to make him howl in pain for the lousy set up.”

Tonya raised an eyebrow and looked at Kate.

“At least next month’s date will be better. How could it be worse, right?” Kate said.

“If I last that long.” Jeanne shook her head.

“How about some of Teague’s B List buddies?” Kate offered. “We could take a trip out to California, meet some hottie actors?”

Jeanne rolled her eyes. “Ugh. Actors? Full-of-themselves phonies? No thanks. Except for your hubby, of course.”

“Yeah, it’s not that much fun to look at
People
anymore once your best friend’s husband’s plastered on the pages,” Tonya said.

“Hey,” Kate protested.

“Sorry, hon. You know we love Teague.” Jeanne stood up and stretched. “I’ve got to get back to the kitchen.” Sure, she needed to get to work on those pies, but she really wanted to get back to Brad

“Don’t give up, girl. February’s the month of love,” Tonya said. “We could dye your hair red. Or pink?”

Jeanne laughed. “Save that for the gals at the residential center. They love decorating for the holidays, even when it’s on their head. When I worked in the kitchen there, they thought my green mashed potatoes for St. Patrick’s Day were genius. Marge talked about it for weeks.”

“Come on. I’ll drop you off,” Kate said.

They paid the bill, complimented Rita on her new sweater, and climbed into Kate’s Jeep.

Jeanne dropped her head back and sighed.

“I think it’s good you’re putting yourself out there, hon.”

Jeanne nodded. “That’s not my only New Year’s resolution. Brad and I are trying to boost business for Elegant Eats
.
Any ideas?”

Kate drummed her fingers on the steering wheel. “Isn’t the residential facility celebrating its fiftieth anniversary this spring? Maybe they’re having an event?”

“Good idea. I’ll have Brad call my old boss. I’m sure they’re looking for something beyond the lime Jell-O and rice pudding we used to whip up for special occasions.”

“Is business okay?” Kate drove past the bustle of downtown Willowdale toward the outskirts of town.

Jeanne shrugged. “I think so. Brad handles that end. We’re holding our own. But growing bigger’s always better, right?”

“As long as it’s not my butt we’re talking about. Your coconut cream pie is to die for. I swear I’ve gained five pounds since Rita started carrying your desserts at the diner.” Kate pulled into the parking lot of the old VFW that was the new headquarters for Elegant Eats
.
The building was dilapidated enough that it looked like a purposeful, distressed chic. She and Brad had had a fine time redecorating the inside, moving all the war hero pictures into the lobby where they could be hidden behind a floor-to-ceiling curtain they’d installed. Old Zeke Baker in his Civil War uniform with that handlebar mustache and grim expression might not be welcome at a discerning bride’s wedding reception.

“Thanks for the ride, and the tip,” Jeanne said.

Kate reached over and squeezed her hand. “It’s all going to work out, honey. I’ll have to get you one of Tonya’s bumper stickers. The one that says, ‘Be positive.’ You know, the one with the letter B and the plus sign? Rita bought one the other day and hung it up at the Jelly Jar.”

Jeanne laughed. “Sure, I’ll plaster it to my forehead and see if the notion sinks in.” She jumped out of the car, wishing she could believe her friend, and then walked into the kitchen. The smell almost buckled her knees. “Mmm, what did you make?”

“Come taste.” Brad held up a fork, and she walked over like a kid entranced by the pied piper’s tune—only Brad’s lure was his food. Sure, he handled the business end of things, but he was a force in the kitchen, too.

“It’s a prosciutto-wrapped date stuffed with blue cheese.” He gestured with the fork for her to take a bite.

She closed her eyes and sank her teeth into the date. “Oh.” She chewed it slowly, savoring the taste. “Yes. Now that’s a good date.”

“Unlike last night.”

She covered her mouth, laughing, and finished chewing, savoring each morsel. She opened her eyes and looked up at him. “More. That was good.” She realized she was staring at those mesmerizing eyes of his with her mouth open and snapped her gaze away.

“Michael Green.”

“New client?”

“Your date for February.” Out came his wicked grin.

She dropped her head back and groaned. “Can’t we stick to these dates? I like these dates. I looove these dates.”

He pulled the tray away and set it on the counter. “No, I’m saving these to take down to the police station for a taste.”

She leaned against the huge industrial fridge and looked up at the ceiling.
Lordy, those tiles need a new paint job,
she thought. “How did you find a date for February already?”

He rubbed his hands together. “I was thinking of all the tall guys I know . . .”

She sighed.

“. . . tall, like you said, and I remembered the guy who lived next to me in college. Found him on Facebook. He’s lives in Whitesville, and he’s excited to meet you in February.” He shoved his hands in pockets and gave her a cute-as-pie look.

“You did all this and made prosciutto-wrapped dates stuffed with blue cheese while I was eating lunch?”

He held his arms open. “What can I say, J? I’m good with dates.” He straddled a stool and scooched the platter of appetizers out of her reach as she walked toward him. “Plus, you promised. And this guy even has a job.”

“Ooh, big time. A job.” She scooted over and snatched one more date, then unloaded the pie supplies from the shopping bag onto the big stainless steel island in the middle of the room. “I don’t know. Ask me again next week. I’m still trying to wash last night’s fiasco out of my brain.”

“I’m going to be hearing about this forever, aren’t I?”

“When I want to get my way on something, yes, you will.” She grinned and pulled out two pie dishes from the drawer under the island. “So, Kate mentioned the residential center is celebrating its fiftieth anniversary this year. Why don’t we find out if they’re having a party? See if we can cater it?”

“Great. I’ll give them a call.”

She cracked an egg against her favorite glass bowl—the one she’d used growing up with Aunt Betty. Creations from that bowl were the only source of happy memories from her childhood.

“How much business do we need to bring in to actually make some real money this year? We’re not still working off our savings, right?”

He scratched his head. “I’ve got to really sit down with the books and flesh out all the numbers.”

She walked behind him and squeezed his shoulders. “I’m so glad I can count on you.” This was what she wanted. Someone she could have fun with. Someone she could trust. Someone to build a future with.
Right—a future without kids.
She took a step back.

“I’ve gotta get started on these pies.” Jeanne moved her supplies and set up her workstation at the other end of the kitchen—partly because her messy work habits usually left Brad humming to himself, just like he did when things weren’t quite under his control—but mostly to keep him out of touching distance.

Though no amount of space could put him out of her thoughts.

BRAD HATED to do it, but he hauled the platter of dates into the police station later that afternoon, hoping to drum up some business courtesy of his brother. Dolly waved him in, and he set the tray on her desk.

“What have we here?” she asked, eyeing up the goodies.

“New appetizer we’re trying out. Let me know what you think. My brother in?”

Dolly’s fingers hovered over the platter as she decided which one to pick, and with two shiny red nails she plucked a big date. “He is. I’ll call him for you.” She popped the date into her mouth and groaned. “Mmm. Luscious. And the dates are good, too.”

She winked at him and called for Tommy, then sampled a few more dates, licking the tips of her plump fingers.

Didn’t have the same effect as when Jeanne did it.

“Who let you in here?” Tommy asked, thumping Brad on the back. He looked at the platter and narrowed his eyes at him. “You come bearing food? You’re not in trouble are you, bro?”

Oh, he was in trouble, but not the kind Tommy was thinking. “Just testing out some new samples, trying to drum up some business. Police department got anything coming up?”

“Yeah, all eight of us in the department have a big shindig planned tomorrow, Dolly’s been killing herself with the plans.” Tommy rolled his eyes. “Come on back to my office, let’s talk.”

“I’m not appreciated around here,” Dolly hollered. “You’ll be sorry some day when I’m gone!”

Tommy folded his big body into an impossibly small chair and kicked his feet up on the desk, the chair squeaking beneath him. “So, what’s really going on, Brad?”

Brad drummed his fingers on his thigh. “Business could be better. That’s all.”

“I was wondering how things were going with you two. Mixing business with pleasure usually is a bad idea.”

“Dude, we’re just friends.”

“Hell, it’s no secret how you feel, bro. Why her of all people, I still don’t understand, but that’s an entirely different story. Are these feelings interfering with the business?” Tommy picked up a pen and started twirling it between his fingers.

Brad wasn’t in the mood to argue that, no, he didn’t love Jeanne. Tommy was too sharp of a cop for that. “Nah, there just aren’t as many gigs as we had hoped, and our startup costs were more than we anticipated.”
That damn dropped zero
 . . .

Tommy set his feet on the ground. “You guys in financial trouble?”

Brad rubbed his neck. “No, no. Not yet.”

Tommy frowned and rubbed his chin. “We do have a small event coming up in March, but it could be awkward for you two. Hadn’t mentioned it to you yet.” Tommy wouldn’t meet his gaze.

The tone in Tommy’s voice kicked up Brad’s heart a notch. “What are you talking about?”

Tommy stood up and walked to the window, his back to Brad. “Folks from the state DOT are coming to town to take another look about installing a stoplight on Main Street.”

Brad’s blood chilled. “A light wouldn’t have prevented the crash.”

“Let’s not get into this, Brad. It’s a dangerous intersection that needs a red light instead of a caution light. Do you know there have been seven crashes there since the one that killed Mom?” He folded his arms and waited for a response.

“And the Clarks. Don’t forget them. But that was the only deadly crash, and don’t forget, it involved alcohol.” Brad shook his head.

Tommy shot him a look. “She tried her best to be a good mother.”

Brad wasn’t going to fight about who was to blame for the way things had turned out for them. His older brother, Jake, had been smart enough to move out of town. His little brother, Mitch, had been too young to have an opinion. Tommy and Brad were caught in the middle.