Secretly Smitten (20 page)

After Clare and Arnold left and Zoe was alone in the office, she checked her books to see if not fixing her car might make way for her to fix the electrical. At least get the exposed wiring covered until she could afford more. Arnold told her that keeping certain lights off would help to keep the electrical charge down and prevent any real danger.

Zoe reasoned such lighting would only make the ambience more romantic, and set to taping certain light switches in the off position. Necessity was the mother of invention. Hadn’t her bike been the answer to more seniors needing supper in town?

She heard a small rap on the window and looked up to see Fireman Brand peeking in. She unlatched the front door and pulled it open. “Good morning, Captain Brand. What brings you here?”

As if she didn’t know.

He did a quick sweep of the room with his eyes and looked back at her. “Nothing. Just doing a walk-through in town this morning.”

“Any particular reason?”

“Nope.”

Fireman Brand didn’t seem especially nervous about the building, but his eyes stopped on her bicycle. “The meal delivery going okay?”

“I haven’t had any complaints yet.” She grinned. “That’s not true. Last summer a few people begged me for no more zucchini.”

He laughed and plucked a sticky note off of her bicycle seat. “You and the new city manager playing nice?”

“Pardon me?”

“William Singer, the new city manager.”

“What about him?” She feigned innocence.

“Seems you’ve already got him wrapped around your finger.” He handed her the note.

Zoe, the weather’s going to change, and I’m handy with a spark plug. Why don’t you let me take a look?

“William brought my bike here?” She crinkled the note in her fist. “How did he get in?”

Fireman Brand made no further notes as Zoe stood redfaced at the discovery of William’s offer.

“I’d best be on to the next business. Best of luck this week.” He grinned as if he were in on some grand secret.

“There’s nothing going on between William and me, if that’s what you’re implying.”

“You’re the matchmaker. Far be it from me to do your job for you.” He tipped his cap and exited.

CHAPTER EIGHT

Z
oe checked her phone Friday morning and did the math. Twenty people had RSVPed for the grand opening that evening. Fourteen women and six men. She bit her bottom lip. “This isn’t good. Smitten is a man’s town . . . so where are the men?”

“You rang?”

She looked up from her desk to see William in the doorway in his formal business attire with the telltale cocky smirk on his face. She wanted to be wise to it, but her heart leapt at the sight of him. She stared back at the computer to avoid eye contact.

“You’re back.”

“Just like I promised.”

“They’re still making you wear that monkey suit?” Why did she feel the need to criticize him rather than be kind? He looked gorgeous in his suit, but she wasn’t about to say that, so she reverted to her lowest self, and now she felt terrible.

He entered the store and closed the squeaky door behind him. Noticing the noise, he manipulated the door back and forth with one arm until the noise grated on her. “I can fix this.” He wiggled the door again. “Got any WD-40?”

“I can fix it too. I’m familiar with the miracle of WD-40.”

“I was trying to be helpful, not condescending.” He stepped over to her, the click of his dress shoes echoing through the building with every step, and her heart pounding the closer he got. He pulled his left arm from behind his back and produced an elegant bouquet of roses. Red, naturally. Smooth characters like William Singer wouldn’t have it any other way, she supposed. “I came to apologize.”

She gazed at the flowers, then back at him. “Apology accepted.” She grasped the proffered bouquet. “Wait. Are you apologizing for the way you ingratiated yourself into a dinner invitation at my mom’s house the other night? Or for the kiss?”

“Neither. I can’t rightfully apologize for the kiss, because I’m not sorry for that. If there’s anything I’ve heard you dislike more than change, it’s dishonesty.”

She placed the flowers on her desk and swiveled her antique oak chair around to face him. “Then what are you apologizing for?”

He leaned on her desk, so close that she feared he might hear the pounding of her heart. “I’m apologizing for doing my job. Well, not for doing my job and telling you what the code ordinance is, but for the way I said it. I shouldn’t have led with that. Bad form. And as you’re the resident matchmaker, I worried you might set me up with the town nag to even the score, so I figured I should come by and let you know you’ve got a week to make the changes with no citation. That is, as long as you’re not still cooking on that fire hazard you call a stove back there.”

She grinned, despite her desire to kick him out. “I already told you, I won’t be setting you up. You’re not staying, which means you’re not of the right criteria for the Smitten crowd.” She said it in a very affected tone of voice, so that he might know how seriously she took his apology. “But where’ve you been with this apology?”

“Did you miss me? Absence makes the heart grow fonder and all that?”

“Not quite.”

“You don’t know I’m not staying. Not unless you can add psychic to your sign out front, and I’m not sure that would go over well with the Smitten town board. Most likely, your application for a business permit would be declined. Truth is, I was in a meeting with the CEO of the railroad. It was time for Smitten’s bid to be presented.” He reached into his jacket pocket. “Speaking of which, I brought you another gift.” He handed her the piece of paper.

She stared at it. “A building permit?” She narrowed her eyes. “You shouldn’t have.”

“It was no trouble.”

“As I’m sure those flowers weren’t. Did you pick them out of Carson’s garden?” She knew by the wrap that they were from Clare’s nursery, but after a gift of a building permit, she definitely wanted to give him a hard time.

“I saved you a trip to city hall. All that red tape and the lines.”

“Lines in Smitten?”

“I’m imagining the future.” He grinned.

“Speaking of fire hazards and electrical work, you’ll be happy to know I brought chicken breasts that I cooked at home. Everyone is having curried chicken salad tonight, so no cooking here. And Zak’s place is catering my event.” She looked down at the phone. “Speaking of which, I need to call him and make sure he gets some friends here for the party. If they won’t show up for the women, they’ll definitely show up for the ribs. Smoked meat is the way to a man’s heart, you know.”

“I did not know that. What else can you tell me about the weaker sex that I might find helpful?”

“If you follow the smoked ribs with my homemade fresh red raspberry pie, men are ready to put a ring on it.”

He laughed out loud. “I honestly can’t figure you out, Zoe, but I think you like me despite yourself.”

“Why doesn’t that surprise me? You probably think Angelina Jolie feels the same.” She stacked the papers on her desk.

“Nah, we’re over. I told her it was me or Brad.” He hung his head. “Well, you know how that turned out. She’ll be sorry. I imagine one day she’ll come slinking back with her six kids in tow.”

“I wouldn’t hold my breath. So are you here to catch me in the act of running my business with bad electrical?”

“I promise, I am not. I came by to see if you needed any help to get ready for tonight.”

She eyed him suspiciously. “Why Smitten anyway? It seems like a step down from the jobs you’ve had.” She looked at the computer. “I Googled you.”

“Oh, so that’s how you found out about Angelina and me.”

She slapped the side of his arm.

“The adventure of it, that’s why I’m here in Smitten. I’ve done a tropical island, a small Texas town, and Los Angeles while I was working my way through USC. Did I tell you anything you didn’t read on Google?”

She shook her head. “Not a thing. Facts are just facts. They don’t describe a person. Like why he feels he has the right to kiss a perfect stranger or apply for a building permit in her name.”

“Nor does it explain why a beautiful woman like yourself doesn’t see the possibilities in a guy like me. Look”—he held out the backs of his hands for her to inspect—“my nails are clean.” He smiled. “I have excellent dental hygiene, and most importantly, I’m easily persuaded by pie.”

“You’re also easily persuaded by the next paycheck. The truth is, William Singer”—she slammed her palm on the desk as though they were in a court of law—“you’re easily persuaded by a lot of things, aren’t you? The call to adventure, your moments of romantic whimsy near the lakeside, the next bigger paycheck . . .”

“Don’t forget a beautiful woman.”

“Beautiful women,” she said with a bad taste in her mouth.

“Not women,” he corrected. “Woman.”

She walked to the front of the store and moved the floral arrangements about the table rather than face him. She had enough to worry about. There was so much to be done before tonight; she didn’t have time to flirt with a cool cucumber like him. It meant nothing to him, while words like that had never been spoken to her before. The way she volleyed back to him, she’d have only herself to blame when her heart lay broken on the court and he flew to the next match.

“If you don’t mind, I really have a lot to do. All these tables need to be set up, and I want to get the movie screen up so I can introduce the services during the appetizers.”

“No problem.” He motioned toward the flowers. “Like I said, I just wanted to apologize.” He walked out the door without another word. Only the squeak of her door and a quick breeze from Main Street noted his absence. That, and the empty place in her heart as he walked away.

You’re being ridiculous! Love at first sight doesn’t exist!
Love was a journey, not a destination people found themselves at by pure accident. Love that lasted had to be built.

The door squeaked again and her eyes brightened, then drooped again. “Hi, Mom.”

“Don’t act so thrilled to see me,” Anna said. “I saw that handsome William leaving in a huff. Honey, you’ve got to quit picking a fight.”

“I’m thrilled to see you, Mom. Really.” She went over and hugged her mother. “What are you doing here?”

“I came to help, naturally. Your sisters will be over later. Your aunts didn’t want to come for fear everyone would think the event is for old ladies and stay home.”

“My matchmaking is for all ages, Mom. Most of it will be done online, but the mixers are for the younger set who want to do things like ski in groups, canoe in the summer.”

At least her mother was successfully distracted from William.

Clare and Tess walked into the storefront, and Zoe instinctively knew something was amiss. With everyone’s busy schedule, they were rarely together except on assigned meal days. “Clare, what’s wrong?”

“Nothing’s wrong, per se.”

“Meaning something’s wrong.”

“When I drove Arnold home, I noticed that his place needed a bit of weeding. While I was there, he came up with David Hutchins’s phone number.” Clare held up a scrap of paper.

Zoe grinned. “To help love along. Sometimes it needs a little push.”

“We don’t even know for certain he’s alive,” Tess said. “This will tell us for sure.”

“Right. We can decide later if we want to tell Grandma. Dial the number, Zoe.” Clare handed off the scrap of paper.

Zoe punched in the numbers and pressed the speaker–phone button. The ring echoed throughout the old building, and everyone grew stone-faced.

“Yeah,” a gruff voice answered.

“M-May I speak to David Hutchins, please?”

“Who’s calling?”

Zoe swallowed hard. “It’s complicated. He doesn’t know me.”

“What do you want him for, then?”

“Is he alive?” she asked.

“Zoe!” Clare hissed.

“Yes, he’s alive. Who wants to know?”

“This is Zoe Thomas. He doesn’t know me, but he knew my grandmother once. Well, I think he knew my grandmother once. Back in his hometown of Smitten, Vermont. Do I have the right David Hutchins household?”