After a quick trip to his room to change into jeans, an old University of South Carolina T-shirt and sneakers, he headed downtown at a brisk pace. He’d probably wind up at Dexter’s, but first he wanted to get a good look at this fancy spa.
He made a few wrong turns, but eventually he found it. There was something classy and welcoming about the old Victorian.
He climbed the steps to the porch and peered in a window. The equipment inside looked top-notch. A dozen or so women were using the treadmills and the elliptical cross-trainers, and he spotted a couple of men in there, as well. Hoping Maybelle had gotten the membership restrictions wrong, he was about to open the door and step inside to find out, when he heard brisk footsteps behind him.
“May I help you?” a woman queried, halting him in his tracks. Despite the slow Southern drawl of her voice, somehow she made the question sound more like a challenge than an offer of assistance.
He turned and faced a pixie of a woman with very short dark hair and huge, dark eyes. If he hadn’t heard that drawl in her voice, he would have guessed her to be European. Her clothes had a French flair about them. Even though the outfit—really only jeans and a T-shirt—could easily have come from the local discount store, the low-heeled, ballet-style shoes and the artful twist of the scarf at her neck reminded him of the innate fashion sense he’d seen on the Left Bank in Paris during the summer he’d spent there after college. He had very fond memories of those days—and of the women he’d met.
He gave her his most winning smile. “That depends. Do you happen to have any pull at this place?”
“I’m not one of the owners, if that’s what you’re asking. Maddie meets with all prospective suppliers. I can give you her card.”
“I’m not a supplier. I want to join.”
“Sorry. We’re only open to women.”
“But I see a couple of men inside,” he protested.
“Personal trainers. They’re the only men allowed inside during business hours. I’d be happy to give you directions to Dexter’s, if you don’t know your way around town.”
“I can find it,” he said tersely. “You know, the women-only rule is probably illegal.”
The suggestion didn’t fluster her in the least.
“I seriously doubt it,” she said, looking amused. “I’m sure that Helen Decatur—she’s also an owner—covered that when she incorporated the spa. I can give you her card, too, if you’d like.”
Letting the legal issues pass for the moment, Tom studied her speculatively, allowing his gaze to linger in a way meant to disconcert her. “When do you offer me your card?”
“I don’t, unless you happen to be peddling skin creams, aromatherapy products or spa attire. Unfortunately, we’ve already established that you’re not.”
There was a gloating note in her voice that irked him. Instead of letting his irritation show, he turned on his charm. “That is a shame, isn’t it? Maybe we can find something else we have in common.”
The amusement in her remarkable eyes vanished. “I doubt that,” she said coolly. “Have a good evening.”
She opened the door, stepped inside, then shut it very firmly in his face. He had a hunch if the spa hadn’t been open for another hour, she’d have turned the lock, as well.
Tom stared after her. His annoyance over the spa’s discrimination against men had suddenly taken a backseat to his fascination with the feisty woman who’d just brushed him off. As the presumed heir to the McDonald fortune, he hadn’t had a lot of experience with rejection, especially in the upper echelons of Charleston society. He discovered he didn’t like it. Coming on top of his losing battle with the mayor, it really soured his mood.
His father would say that the day he’d just had in Serenity was no worse than he deserved for not following the more illustrious career path that had been chosen for him at birth. It was the image of the gloating expression he’d likely find on his father’s face that stiffened his spine and made him resolve to make tomorrow better. He had a lot to prove, not just to his father, but to himself.
He’d come to Serenity because he cared about towns like this. He thought he had something to offer. His years as a planning administrator and as a chief financial officer in another community had prepared him to run Serenity and deal with whatever issues might face the community. If he had to do battle with a demanding mayor and suffer a little rejection at the hands of an intriguing woman, he could handle it.
He cast one last, longing look through the window of The Corner Spa, decided to skip a workout at Dexter’s and jogged back to the Serenity Inn for an unappetizing meal of beer and takeout.
* * *
After her disconcerting encounter with the man on the porch, Jeanette retreated to her office to try to make a dent in the mountain of paperwork on her desk. It was as good a time as any to deal with this unpleasant aspect of her job.
Unfortunately, she couldn’t seem to focus on it. Images of the man she’d just met kept intruding. The thought of him taking on Helen in a fight made her smile. He’d sounded so sure of himself. It would be fun to watch Helen teach him a thing or two about the law.
And even though she’d sworn off men, basking in the undisguised admiration of a sexy man for just a couple of minutes had given her a faintly quivery feeling in the pit of her stomach. It had been a long time since a man had looked at her like that. Or maybe it had just been a long time since she’d been aware of it and felt anything in return.
Not that she intended to do anything about it, she reminded herself sternly, turning back to the paperwork on her desk with
