* * *
Tom whistled as he returned to his office, which had Teresa regarding him with undisguised curiosity.
“You’re in a good mood,” she said. “Does it have something to do with the lunch you just had with Jeanette at Sullivan’s?”
“Jeanette and my mother, which you already knew,” he reminded her. “I know you check the calendar I keep every day now to be sure I’m not scheduling things you don’t know about.”
“Wouldn’t be doing my job if I didn’t know what you were up to during office hours.” She smiled. “So, lunch went well?” She sounded incredulous.
“Truthfully, lunch was a little tense,” he admitted. “But I have high hopes for later tonight.”
“I assume you’re referring to an evening with Jeanette and not your mother,” she said.
“Of course. Hold my calls. I need to make some plans.”
Teresa followed him into his office. “What are you up to?”
“None of your business,” he said.
“If you don’t mind me saying so, you have a very strange way of courting a woman.”
“I repeat, none of your business.”
Teresa was undeterred. “Do you want Jeanette or not?”
He sighed, sat down behind his desk and looked up at her. He should have known his secretary would have an opinion about this. “Obviously you think I’m going about it all wrong.”
“Well, duh! You took her to lunch with your mother, a woman she despises, from everything I hear.” She gave him a wry look. “And we both know I hear quite a lot.”
“Agreed,” he conceded.
“Yet you think Jeanette’s going to be eager to spend a romantic evening with you?” She shook her head. “I don’t think so. She’s probably hightailing it out of town, as we speak.”
“Why would she do that?”
“Read my lips. Because you subjected her to an hour with your mother, whom she hates. And based on my experience over the whole drapery project, I don’t blame her,” she said. “If you’ll pardon me for saying so.”
He waved off the apology. He could hardly argue the point.
“Look, I was trying to bridge the gap between them, make peace, open the lines of communication.”
“Ha! I imagine all you did was remind both of them that they don’t like each other. Trust me, that does not work in your favor.”
“What am I doing having this conversation with you?” he muttered. “It’s completely inappropriate.”
“You need my help,” Teresa replied. “Like most men, you are clueless when it comes to women, especially Jeanette, who has not dated anyone since she moved to Serenity three years ago. She has a hard-and-fast rule about dating. If you expect her to break that rule, you need to be offering more than a guaranteed conflict with your mother.”
“Some people consider me a good catch,” he told Teresa.
“Maybe you are. The jury’s still out on that around here. All I’m saying is you’re going to have to strut your stuff if you want Jeanette.”
He stared at her. “Strut my stuff? What the hell does that mean?”
“Show her the kind of man you are. Treat her with dignity and respect. Woo her. And for goodness’ sake, leave your mother out of it.”
He would dearly love to leave his mother out of it, but she was already a bone of contention. He seriously doubted any of them could pretend otherwise.
“Okay, Ms. Lonely Hearts, what should I do next? I can’t keep sending Jeanette scones and bread pudding or dropping by with her favorite pizza.”
Teresa sat down, her expression thoughtful. “Just how much money do you have?”
Tom nearly choked at the question. “Excuse me?”
“I’m not asking to see your bank statement,” she said. “I’m just wondering if you have enough to do something completely over the top.”
“Such as?”
“Flying her to Paris for dinner,” she said, her expression dreamy. “Jeanette wouldn’t be able to resist a man who did something like that. She loved living in Paris.”
For a moment, Tom actually considered the idea, then dismissed it. He doubted he could convince Jeanette to take a day trip to Savannah with him, much less an excursion to Paris.
“I think we’d better forget about Paris for the time being,” he told her.
“Well, taking her bowling’s not going to do it,” Teresa said.
Tom’s head was starting to reel. “Who said anything about bowling?”
“There’s not a lot else to do in Serenity.”
“I don’t think Jeanette moved here for the exciting nightlife,” Tom said. “Teresa, I appreciate your input, I really do, but I think I’d better follow my own instincts about this.” He met her gaze. “And let’s make this the very last conversation we have about my love life, okay?”
“Suits me,” she said, standing up and heading toward her own office. She glanced back over her shoulder. “But just to be clear, from what I can tell, you don’t actually have a love life.”
Clearly miffed, she walked out and shut the door behind her with a little more force than necessary.
“Thanks for pointing that out!” Tom called after her.
“My pleasure!” she shouted back.
Tom shook his head. Only several weeks ago his life had been on track, serene even. Yet in such a short time, he’d managed to get himself caught up with a disapproving mother, a meddling secretary and a fascinating woman who claimed to want nothing to do with him. Apparently fate really did enjoy having its little laughs.
* * *
Jeanette gave herself a stern lecture as she changed back into her work clothes. She was not going to let that ridiculous lunch with Mrs. McDonald get under her skin. She was not going to take out her frustration on her clients. She was going to be pleasant for the rest of the afternoon if it killed her. And she absolutely, positively was not going to think about that kiss Tom had laid on her on the sidewalk in front of Sullivan’s and yet another mention of marriage.
Half the town had probably heard about that kiss by now. Maddie knew, Jeanette was sure of it. She’d caught the glint of amusement