Menu for Romance

“Easter?”

“Yes. The multichurch sunrise service followed by the Easter egg hunt in Schuyler Park.”

“I thought the mayor’s wife did that. That’s what they always say on the news.”

“I know. The mayor’s wife is responsible for leading the events and awarding the prizes. So it’s a marquee event for her—show her involvement in the community.”

“But you plan and organize all of it?”

She shrugged and nodded. “It’s my job. I don’t need any special recognition for it.”

“Uh, yeah, you do. With all of these events falling within a couple of months, I’m surprised you have time to go out to dinner. Glad, but surprised.”

“I have a good team of planners and assistants who work with me. I learned early on in this business to identify people’s strengths and delegate responsibility to them.” Just as Anne had done with her. She’d zeroed in on Meredith’s need to please the people she was working with and put Meredith in charge of working with customers. Learning how to stand her ground with vendors had been a hardwon battle.

“I can tell you don’t take enough credit for the amount of work you do and that your coworkers probably take you for granted.”

He saw things so clearly—things that until she’d met him, her eyes had been closed to. “Maybe.”

“Have you ever considered leaving and doing something totally different?”

Only every time she worked a major event. “Occasionally.”

“Like becoming an interior designer—maybe one who works hand in hand with a particular contractor?”

“Why, Ward Breaux—are you offering me a job?” She laughed, but it faded quickly when his expression remained serious.

“I haven’t seen your design aesthetic, but I can imagine it’s got to be impeccable, just from what I know about you and the work you’ve done on your house.”

The waitress chose that moment to return with the dessert. “Here you go. Enjoy.”

Meredith hardly tasted the first bite, still stunned by Ward’s offer. Leave B-G and go to work with him? Do the kind of work she’d gone to school for?

“Of course, I know you wouldn’t make nearly what you make as an executive director with a huge corporation. But there’s something to be said for job satisfaction.”

She couldn’t let him believe she didn’t like her job. “I do have satisfaction in my work.” She thought about the happy faces of the people at the New Year’s Gala. “I make people happy by giving them the best event possible.”

“But is that what you really want to do for the rest of your life? If you say yes, I promise I’ll never mention designing again. But if you can’t say yes, I want you to think about what I said.”

She opened her mouth to answer in the affirmative, but something stopped her tongue from forming the word.

Ward nodded. “I won’t pressure you, but I just want you to think about it, ’kay?”

“I don’t think I’ll have any trouble doing that.”

Chapter 16

“So, you know what I’m thinking? Concrete floors.”

Meredith prepared to laugh, then realized that Antoine Delacroix looked like he really meant what he said. “Concrete floors?”

“Yeah. We rip out all this old wood—it just makes everything dark and closed in—and do painted concrete floors.”

The months of lovingly restoring the crown molding, the door and window facings, the built-ins made Meredith’s fingers tingle with indignation. “Rip out the wood?”

“Yeah. And I’m thinking a totally modern kitchen—colored, laminated, stainless steel and glass, very streamlined.”

Mouth agape, she could only stare as Alaine’s brother—her much younger brother—wandered from the dining room into the barren kitchen. When he’d shown up—almost an hour late—she’d been surprised that someone as young as he appeared to be was already a licensed contractor. And when he’d handed over his credentials, the recent date on the license had confirmed her suspicions.

“Maybe I didn’t explain properly over the phone.” Meredith followed him into the kitchen. “I want this house restored not remodeled.”

“Same diff.” Antoine waved his hand over his shoulder and continued on into the utility room. “Hey, that den is on the other side of this wall isn’t it?” He knocked on the back wall. “We could knock this wall out and put in a kickin’ wet bar.”

This walk-through couldn’t end soon enough. What had Alaine been thinking? If she’d meant to set Meredith up with Antoine romantically, she’d overlooked the fact that Meredith was a good ten to twelve years older than this kid. If she thought Meredith would like Antoine’s aesthetic, she’d been sorely mistaken.

She leaned heavily against the back door. “You know, Antoine, what I’m really looking for is someone who can come in and restore the house and keep the historical integrity while bringing the utilities and features, like kitchen and bathrooms, up to date.”

The wall-knocking stopped, and he stuck his head out of the utility room. “Really? Most folks I talk to want everything modern these days.”

“Well, call me old-fashioned, but I bought a craftsman-style house because I love the craftsman style.”

“Dude. You should have told me. I really don’t do old stuff.”

“I guess there’s no reason for me to waste more of your time, then, Antoine. I’ll walk you out.” Meredith waved him toward the front of the house.

“Yep. You’re probably right.” He preceded her to the front door. “But you really should think about that wet bar idea. It would be sweet.”

“I wouldn’t have any use for a wet bar.” Besides, Ward had suggested taking away half of the space. And Ward knew an architect who could draw up plans before the end of the week so that he could get started soon and have it finished before Anne and George returned from England at the end of March.

Antoine grabbed the front door’s handle but turned before opening it. “So, wanna go out sometime?”

Meredith cleared her throat to mask a chuckle. “While I’m flattered by the offer, I...” Was she really going to turn down an offer for a date? Yes. Yes she was. “I’m seeing someone.”

“Cool.”

She should be indignant at the relief that showed in his dark eyes, but she couldn’t quite conjure it. “Bye.”

“Later, dude.” He loped down the porch steps and sidewalk to his monster-sized luxury SUV, which dug trenches in the driveway and sprayed gravel everywhere when he gunned the engine backing out.

High-pitched yapping from behind the house caught her attention. She hurried through and out onto the back porch. The fuzzball stood with his forepaws on the trunk of one of the massive oaks, barking his head off at a tabby cat.

Meredith put her fingers to the corners of her mouth and whistled. The puppy—who really needed a name if she was going to keep him any longer—whipped around. Overjoyed to see her, he broke out into his lumbering puppy run, tripping over his too-big feet a couple of times before he reached her.

She brushed off a few dead leaves and scooped him up, holding him low enough that his tongue couldn’t reach her face. So he concentrated his kisses on her hands instead.

“Come on, li’l booger. Let’s drop you off at home so I can get back to work.”

Since the afternoon had turned out somewhat pleasant, Meredith decided she could take the risk of leaving the puppy outside in the small fenced area beyond the swimming pool Anne figured had been set up as a dog run by previous residents.

She put him in it then ran inside to get the kennel she’d borrowed from her parents, the bottom padded with the old towels he’d been sleeping on, along with his water dish.