Читать книгу Marrying Money - SUSAN MEIER, Susan Meier - Страница 10

“I can’t believe I’m doing this,” Tanner McConnell mumbled as he drove his Mercedes into a parking space in the lot of the newly remodeled church hall in Wilmore, West Virginia.

“What was that, dear?”

Recognizing he’d grumbled loud enough for his mother to hear, Tanner cleared his throat, pretending his unintentional comment had been a cough. “Nothing, Mother. Just a little frog in my throat, that’s all.”

He got out of the car and rounded the hood. Because it was a warm June evening, and fifteen minutes remained before dinner would be served, people gathered in small conversation groups around the huge oaks and flower beds that surrounded the gray block building. Most of the men yanked at their collars, uncomfortable in their suit jackets, white shirts and ties, while their wives virtually glowed in semiformal wear and fancy upswept hairdos.

As Tanner walked around the front of the car to the passenger side, his father exited the back seat of the Mercedes and opened the car door for Tanner’s mother.

“Don’t buy that cough story,” Jim McConnell said. “What Tanner mumbled was that he can’t believe we talked him into coming to this celebration dinner.” He offered a hand to his wife to assist her from her seat. “Thinks he’s too good for us now,” he added in a stage whisper, then winked.

Tanner was a replica of his green-eyed, sandy-haired father, who remained as muscled and fit as he had been in his youth when he’d taught Tanner to play football. Jim always claimed Tanner’s mother, Doris, was still as beautiful as the day he met her. Looking at her, dressed in the coral-colored cocktail suit she had purchased on a trip to New York City with Tanner a few months before, her dark auburn hair tucked into a neat chignon and just the right amount of makeup accenting her round brown eyes, Tanner believed it. He had always been proud of his parents and proud of his life. He simply didn’t want to live it in Wilmore.

“You know that’s not it,” Tanner replied. “It’s just that I really don’t care to see Emmalee, that’s all.”

“I don’t know why. Your divorce was final years ago,” Doris said, adjusting her son’s paisley tie. “Emmalee’s married to the mayor now. She moved on years ago.”

“And so did I,” Tanner said. Though everyone else wore a standard-fare black or navy suit, Tanner didn’t feel out of place in the expensive cocoa-brown suit and ivory shirt he’d had specially made for him, because he knew people in this town expected him to look the part of who he was. “In case either of you has forgotten, I just sold my trucking company for a small fortune. I’ve more than moved on. I’m moving on again.”

“We know, dear,” his mother said, using her calm, conciliatory voice. “You’re a rich, successful ex-college football star who blew out his knee his first game in the pros and used his compensation money to start a trucking company that you sold for millions. We haven’t forgotten any of that.” She paused long enough to smile at her son. “But you’re also not married.”

“And we don’t have grandbabies,” Jim put in, peeking around Doris as the trio began to walk across the parking lot to the crowded, noisy church hall.

“Oh,” Tanner said, sighing with understanding. “So that’s what this is all about.” He looked over at the town celebration with new eyes. “You think I’ll find a wife tonight.”

“No better place to find a good woman than your hometown,” Jim said.

“There are at least fifteen lovely young women who are unattached and who would make you a fabulous wife,” Doris added as if spouse shopping were an everyday occurrence and Tanner shouldn’t be insulted that his parents had brought him to their version of a matrimony mall.

Over his mother’s head, Tanner scowled at his father.

“Hey, don’t make faces at me. Your mother and I are in this together,” Jim said.

Passing the small groups clustered in front of the entry, Tanner and his parents issued greetings and exchanged pleasantries but didn’t actually stop to talk. They walked to the admission window immediately inside the open door of the church hall. A petite blonde was collecting tickets.

Wearing an ink-blue sequined tank dress with a filmy, frilly ruffle at the hemline about five inches above her knees, and earrings and a necklace that seemed to be the exact hue of her dress, she looked as though she should be on television or on a magazine cover, not welcoming patrons to a dinner dance in a tiny town in the Appalachian Mountains.

“Hello, Mr. McConnell, Mrs. McConnell…” She paused and looked at Tanner. “Tanner,” she added softly.

Her voice reminded him of a lullaby. Wistful, light, airy and full of warmth. Her eyes were the color of wild violets. Her thick yellow hair was piled on her head in some sort of fancy hairdo that made him think of a Greek goddess. Strands slipped and curled from the main mass, and a long strip hung from the back like a silken waterfall. Spellbound, he stared at her.

“You remember Bailey Stephenson,” his mother said. “She owns the beauty shop.”

Tanner smiled. Of course…who else would have hair that looked like a work of art? “I’m sorry, I don’t remember you,” he said, then extended his hand, suddenly awfully darned glad his parents had insisted he attend this celebration of the town’s triumphant renewal after the unexpectedly severe spring flooding.

She took Tanner’s hand, her smooth, thin palm sliding along the calluses of his much bigger, much stronger palm, and Tanner could swear his heart stopped. She had skin like warm velvet and small, delicate, feminine bones that reminded him that he was not only considerably larger than she was, but also that he was a man and she was a woman.

Heat tingled through him. Mesmerized, confused, he gazed into her eyes, and he couldn’t seem to let go of her hand. With women throwing themselves at his feet at every turn, some because of his money, some because of his looks, it had been a long, long time since Tanner had spontaneously reacted to a woman. Not only did he like the feeling, but he wanted it to go on forever.

“I didn’t think you would remember me,” Bailey said, smiling at him, not like a woman who was flirting, but like a woman who saw him as an equal, as a person, not a personality.

Full-fledged attraction shot through him. There was no doubt about it. He liked this woman—instantly, instinctively liked this woman. Not merely because she was beautiful but because he knew that if she were attracted to him it would be for reasons other than superficial ones.

“I’m a little younger than you are,” she added. “When you left town I was probably only starting high school.”

Before Tanner had a chance to do the math on that and fret over the fact that she might be too young for him, his father muttered an oath.

“Ah, damn,” Jim said, as he patted his suit jacket pocket. “I forgot the tickets.”

“That’s okay,” the pretty beautician said, smiling at his parents. “Your names are on the list. The tickets are only a formality.”

“Are you sure?” Doris asked.

“Of course I’m sure. I chaired the committee, remember?” Bailey said with a laugh. “But, if you would like to give the committee a good-faith gesture, your son could—”

“I’ll do whatever you want,” Tanner cut in with a grin, happy to seize any chance to get close to and stay close to this woman.

“Well, don’t speak too soon.” Bailey bit back a smile. “I was about to volunteer you for the revitalization committee.”

Tanner’s grin faded. “What?”

“The members of the restoration committee, which managed the actual flood cleanup, decided we need a revitalization committee because there are so many things this town needs that one committee couldn’t handle it all.”

He stared at her.

She began ticking off items on her fingers. “We need a park for the kids. We could use some bike trails. A community college would be the best thing that could happen for our young people. And we need a senior center. There are grants and Federal money available for most of that, but we need people dedicated to going after them.”

“I—” Tanner began.

“Tanner can’t serve on a committee,” his mother interrupted, speaking for him as if he weren’t standing right beside her. “I think he would be perfect—all that business experience of his could help the town enormously—but the entire time he was building his business, he dreamed of retiring in Florida. Buying a boat. Taking people on chartered fishing tours to make pocket change while he played. He’s not interested.”

“Too bad,” Bailey said casually. “Well, you three have a good time tonight,” she added, turning her attention to the incoming group behind them.

Tanner didn’t want to serve on the committee, but he should have had the opportunity to make up his own mind. “Thank you very much, Mom. The least I could have done was hear Bailey out about the responsibilities of serving on the committee.”

That stopped him. Actually, hearing her out was the least he could do to get another five, ten or maybe even twenty minutes with her. He certainly wasn’t going to let the first woman who had piqued his interest in ten years get away without a conversation.

Bailey Stephenson watched Tanner walk into the main room of the church hall, which was decorated in a sea of red, white and blue crepe paper, the rows of long narrow tables covered with white plastic cloths and sporting fat red candles and miniature flags as centerpieces. She bit her lower lip as she collected the tickets of the Franklin family. It had been everything she could do to suppress a shiver when Tanner McConnell had taken her hand, but the truth was that every darned woman in the world was attracted to him. She wasn’t any different from anybody else, except that she had goals and visions, and they didn’t include settling down with a man.

At least not yet. She was only twenty-five. Too young to be thinking about anything permanent…not that she thought Tanner McConnell would want something permanent with her. Since he and Emmalee split up all those years ago, he hadn’t dated anybody for more than a month. And those he had dated didn’t come from West Virginia. They were New York socialites. He didn’t even date models and actresses. His taste ran to daughters of influential men. Or executive directors of charities who donated back their salaries because they didn’t need them. Or patrons of the ballet and symphony. Bailey was just about certain that Tanner wouldn’t consider the town beautician to be a member of that category. In the end she wouldn’t be good enough, just like Emmalee hadn’t been good enough to move with him when he left Wilmore to start his new life.

At least that was the rumor.

Besides, she didn’t care about Emma and Tanner and their ugly divorce. She had work to do. With her business degree languishing away while she focused on creating great hairdos to build the customer base of her beauty shop, she needed a way to keep sharp the skills she’d learned in college. And fate had given her the perfect opportunity. When she and the members of the flood recovery committee had realized how many things their town lacked and how easy it would be to get them if a few people dedicated time to going after the money, she knew this was the way to make sure she didn’t get rusty. And she also knew she had more than enough to keep her occupied. There was no room for a man in her life.

As she joined the group inside, she caught Tanner staring at her. When she caught Tanner staring at her all through dinner, she decided she had confused him by not falling at his feet…which was understandable since everybody else did. When he tried to mingle in her direction before the band started, she adroitly sidestepped all his attempts. But when he cornered her just as the band played its first romantic song, a lovely lilting waltz, Bailey knew there was no dodging the inevitable.

“Dance?” he asked, extending his hand to her and giving her the perfect, glorious smile that melted most women.

Right on cue, Bailey felt her knees weaken. His green eyes sparkled with sincerity. His tanned skin brought out the best in his sandy-brown hair, which was streaked with blond from the sun. He had a straight nose and even straighter teeth. It almost seemed that when he was created, the universe set out to combine the best of everything, and it had definitely succeeded.

When she didn’t answer him, he stepped a little closer, opened his hand a little wider. “It’s only a dance,” he coaxed, but Bailey didn’t think so. When she looked into the depths of his eyes, instincts she didn’t know she possessed surged to the forefront. She could fall madly in love with him. Quickly. Easily. Any woman could. And he would hurt her. She wasn’t any more sophisticated than Emmalee had been, so undoubtedly he would drop her after a date or two. Since she wasn’t the kind for a casual fling or temporary relationship, she was just a tad too naive for the likes of Tanner McConnell.

Still staring into his eyes, she swallowed, then said, “I don’t think so. I should go into the kitchen to make sure the cleanup committee isn’t having any trouble.”

She turned to go, but Tanner caught her hand and spun her around again. “It’s not a good idea to micromanage.”

“What?”

“It’s never a good idea to micromanage,” he said, easily manipulating her onto the dance floor by preoccupying her with the explanation of what he had said. “Because you’re the committee head,” he added, his arm casually, smoothly sliding across the small of her back, “you’re everybody’s boss. If you keep going back to check on them, people will think you don’t trust them.”

“They won’t think I care about them and I’m trying to keep up my end of the work?” she asked, while inside her heart tripped out a frantic rhythm, and awareness of him hummed through her. Tall and masculine, picture-perfect gorgeous, with a smile that forced her to smile in response, Tanner McConnell incited feelings and sensations in her that were probably illegal in conservative states.

Tanner laughed, effortlessly guiding her around the dance floor in a waltz. “No. They’ll think you’re robbing them of an opportunity to please you, to impress you.”

She tilted her head in question. He was such a handsome man that people forgot he was also ultrasuccessful. Someday Bailey wanted to be ultrasuccessful, too. If fate was giving her nudges in his direction, maybe it wasn’t for romance, but to get his guidance. “Is that how you ran your business?”

He nodded. “Put enough faith in people, show them you believe they can succeed, and they will do anything you ask.”

She smiled. “Really?”

“Really.”

“That is so interesting, because I just hired a new stylist who is very talented, but when it comes to the crunch hairdos, she just sort of freaks out on me.”

“Crunch hairdos?”

“The big deals,” Bailey explained, catching his gaze. “You know, wedding parties, upsweeps for the prom, the important hairdos.”

“Oh, those are your critical success factors for your business,” he said, understanding.

“Precisely. Those are the things that make or break you. Owning the beauty shop is like being the florist. If a bride likes the flowers you do for her wedding, she’ll get her mother’s day bouquets from you. If a girl likes the way you do her hair for the prom, you’re a shoo-in to do her wedding.”

Tanner nodded approvingly, like a man who was not only listening, but also comprehending, but Bailey suddenly felt incredibly stupid. She was dancing with the most attractive man in the world and though she knew talking about business was the best way to keep herself out of trouble, talking about upsweeps for the prom might be carrying things too far.

She licked her lips, trying to think of something to say, but when she caught his gaze again the words died on her tongue. As he swept her around the floor, with her feet feeling as if they were barely touching the ground, the ruffle of her dress flowing around her, and the room spinning by, she felt like a princess. Mesmerized by his beautiful green eyes, she couldn’t help but wish this dance, this moment, could go on forever. She felt his hand tighten at her waist, watched his lips as they bowed upward into a broad smile, and her stomach sank to the floor. She had never wanted anything so much in her entire life, in spite of the fact that she knew it was dead wrong and that she wasn’t going to get it.

She almost willed the band to play an extra chorus and when they did she used that unexpected gift of two more minutes to memorize his scent, the look in his eyes, the way his hand felt on the small of her back. She remembered every tingle resonating through her, every pinpoint of awareness inspired by his touch, every good and happy thought that raced through her brain. Because when the song was over and they broke apart to applaud she knew she would do what she had to do.

She faced him, smiled and politely said, “Thank you for the dance,” then ran like the wind into the kitchen.

A quick glance around the stainless steel and Formica room told her everything had been wiped down, washed or returned to its proper position. She faced Ricky Avery, ready to ask him if certain tasks had been done, but remembering the business advice Tanner had given her as he held her in his arms, she smiled and said, “Looks good in here.”

Tall, lanky, curly haired Ricky beamed and peered around with self-satisfaction. “You think so?”

“Yeah,” she said, patting his shoulder. “You did very, very well. I’m proud of you.”

Ricky straightened his shoulders and suddenly looked ten feet tall. “Thanks.”

Bailey smiled. “You’re welcome,” she said, then grabbed the purse she had left with the kitchen staff for safekeeping. “I’ll see you around town,” she added, and started for the door.

Ricky gave her a puzzled frown. “You’re leaving?”

“I’ve already had enough excitement for one night. Besides, I’m working in the morning.”

“But tomorrow’s Sunday.”

“Somebody’s still got to comb out all those up-dos,” Bailey quickly countered. “If everybody wraps their hair for bed tonight like I told them, they’ll be okay for church in the morning, but after church nobody’s going to want to walk around in blue jeans and a T-shirt, looking like Athena.”

“But you planned this…and the night’s only started,” Ricky protested, obviously confused.

Bailey smiled a response, but seeing that Tanner had finally made his way to the kitchen and was about to walk through the door, she said, “I know. See you tomorrow.”

She raced out into the dark, empty night. In her haste she was very careful to make sure she didn’t lose one of her shoes because then for sure she would have felt like Cinderella leaving the ball. And she wasn’t. She was a beautician from Wilmore, West Virginia, trying to build a business, trying to help her town. She was a common, simple, ordinary woman. Not royalty. Not a princess destined to marry a prince.

She climbed into her SUV and shoved the key in the ignition just in time to see Tanner come out of the back door of the church hall. He waved. She yanked her gearshift into drive and drove off. Content with one dance. One very happy memory.