“Thank you for asking,” she said stiffly, “but I really have too much to do. Maybe another time.”
To her astonishment, Nick’s eyes sparked with satisfaction. “Next week, then,” he said as he rinsed his glass and set it in the dish drainer. He didn’t once meet her startled gaze.
“But—” The protest might as well never have been uttered for all the good it did. He didn’t even allow her to finish it.
“We’ll pick you up at six and we’ll go out for barbecue first,” he added confidently as he walked to the door, then bestowed a dazzling smile on her. “Gracie’s has the best you’ve ever tasted this side of Texas. Guaranteed.”
The screen door shut behind him with an emphatic bang.
Dana watched him go and fought the confusing, contradictory feelings he’d roused in her. If there was one thing she knew all too well, it was that there were no guarantees in life, especially when it came to men like Nick Verone.
Chapter 2
After a perfectly infuriating Monday morning spent waiting futilely for Billy Watson, Dana opened the library at noon. She’d found Betsy Markham already pacing on the front steps. Instead of heading for the fiction shelves to look over her favorite mysteries, Betsy followed Dana straight to her cluttered desk, where she was trying to update the chaotic card file so she could eventually get it all on the computer. The last librarian, a retired cashier from the old five-and-ten-cent store, obviously hadn’t put much stock in the need for alphabetical order or modern equipment. When a new book came in, she apparently just popped the card in the back of whichever drawer seemed to have room.
“So,” Betsy said, pulling up a chair and propping her plump elbows on the corner of the desk. “Tell me everything.”
Dana glanced up from the card file and stared at her blankly. “About what?”
“You and Nick Verone, of course.” She wagged a finger. “You’re a sly little thing, Dana Brantley. Here I’ve been trying to introduce you to the man for weeks and you kept turning me down. The next thing I know the two of you are thick as thieves and being talked about all over town.”
Thick brown brows rose over startled eyes. “We’re what?”
“Yes, indeed,” Betsy said, nodding so hard that not even the thick coating of hair spray could contain the bounce of her upswept gray hair.
Betsy’s eyes flashed conspiratorially and she lowered her voice, though there wasn’t another soul in the place. “Word is that he was at your house very early Saturday morning and stayed for quite a while. One version has it he was there till practically lunchtime. Inside the house!”
When she noticed the horrified expression on Dana’s face, she added, “Though what difference that makes, I for one can’t see. It’s not as if you’d be doing anything in broad daylight.”
Dana was torn between indignation and astonishment. “He didn’t stop by for some sort of secret assignation, for heaven’s sakes. He came to look at my roof.”
Betsy appeared taken aback. “But I thought you’d called Billy Watson to do that, even though I tried to make it perfectly clear to you that Billy’s a bit of a ne’er-do-well.”
“I had called him, and don’t get me started on that. The man never showed up this morning. He said he’d be there by eight. I waited until 11:30.” Dana wasn’t sure what incensed her more: Billy Watson’s failure to appear or having to admit that Nick Verone was right.
“Then I still don’t understand what Nick has to do with your roof.”
“Mr. Verone apparently heard about the leaks from Tony and stopped by on his own. He wasn’t invited.” Darn! Why was she explaining herself to Betsy Markham and, no doubt, half the town by sunset? Nick’s visit had been entirely innocent. On top of that, it was no one’s business.
Except in River Glen.
She’d have to start remembering that this wasn’t New York, where all sorts of mayhem could take place right under your neighbors’ noses without a sign of acknowledgment. Here folks obviously took their gossip seriously. She decided that Crime Watch organizers could take lessons from the citizens of this town. Very little got by them. Perhaps she should be grateful they hadn’t prayed for her soul in the Baptist church on Sunday or put an announcement in the weekly paper.
Betsy was staring at her, disappointment etched all over her round face. “You mean there’s nothing personal going on between the two of you?”
Dana thought about the invitation to bingo. That was friendly, not personal, but she doubted Betsy and the others would see it that way. She might as well bring it up now, rather than wait for Saturday night, when half the town was bound to see her with Nick and Tony and the rest would hear about it before church the next day. “Not exactly,” she said finally.
Betsy’s blue eyes brightened. “I knew it,” she gloated. “I just knew the two of you would hit it off. When are you seeing him again?”
“Saturday,” Dana admitted reluctantly, then threw in what she suspected would be a wasted disclaimer, “but it’s not really a date.”
Betsy regarded her skeptically, just as Dana had known she would. Dana forged on anyway. “He and Tony and I are going out to eat at some place called Gracie’s and then to bingo.”
She thought that certainly ought to seem innocuous enough. Betsy reacted, though, as if Dana had uttered a blasphemy. She was incredulous.
“Barbecue and bingo? Land sakes, girl, Nick Verone’s nigh on to the richest man in these parts. He ought to be taking you to someplace fancy in Richmond at the very least.”
“I think the idea is for me to get to know more people around here. I don’t think he’s trying to woo me with gourmet food and candlelight.”
“Then he’s a fool.”
Dana doubted if many people called Nick Verone a fool to his face. But Betsy had taken a proprietary interest in Dana’s social life. She might do it out of some misguided sense of duty.
“Don’t you say one single word to him, Betsy Markham,” she warned. “Barbecue and bingo are fine. I’m not looking for a man in my life—rich or poor. To tell the truth, I’d rather stay home and read a good book.”
“You read books all day long. You’re young. You ought to be out enjoying yourself, living life, not just reading about it in some novel.”
“I do enjoy myself.”
Betsy sniffed indignantly. “I declare, I don’t know what’s wrong with young people today. When my Harry and I were courting, you can bet we didn’t spent Saturday night at the fire station with a bunch of nosy neighbors looking on. It’s bad enough we do that now. Back then, why, we’d be parked out along the beach someplace, watching the moon come up and making plans.”
She picked up a flyer from Dana’s desk and fanned herself absentmindedly. There was a faint smile on her lips. “Oh, my, yes. That was quite a time. You young folks don’t care a thing about romance. Everybody’s too busy trying to get ahead.”
Dana restrained the urge to grin. Being River Glen’s librarian was hardly a sign of raging ambition, but if thinking it kept Betsy from interfering in her personal life, she’d do everything she could to promote the notion.
Dana reached over and patted the woman’s hand. “Thanks for caring about me, Betsy, but I’m doing just fine. I love it here. All I want in my life right now is a little peace and quiet. Romance can wait.”
Betsy sighed dramatically. “Okay, honey, if that’s what you want, but don’t put up too much of a fight. Nick Verone’s the best catch around these parts. You’d be crazy to let him get away.”
Dana spent the rest of the afternoon thinking about Betsy’s admonition. She also spent entirely too much time thinking about Nick Verone. Even if her mind hadn’t betrayed her by dredging up provocative images, there was Tony to remind her.
He bounded into the library right after school, wearing a huge grin. “Hey, Ms. Brantley, I hear you and me and Dad are going out on Saturday.”
Dana winced as several other kids turned to listen. “Your dad invited me to come along to bingo. Are you sure you don’t mind?”
“Mind? Heck, no. You’re the greatest. All the kids think so. Right, guys?” There were enthusiastic nods from the trio gathered behind him. Tony studied her with an expression that was entirely too wise for a ten-year-old and lowered his voice to what he obviously considered to be a discreet whisper. It echoed through every nook and cranny in the library.
“Say, do you want me to get lost on Saturday night?” He blushed furiously as his friends moved in closer so they wouldn’t miss a word. “I mean so you and Dad can be alone and all. I could spend the night over at Bobby’s. His mom wouldn’t mind.” Bobby nodded enthusiastically.
If Dana had been the type, she might have blushed right along with Tony. Instead, she said with heartfelt conviction, “I most certainly do not want you to get lost. Your father planned for all of us to spend the evening together and that’s just the way I want it.”
“But I know about grown-ups and stuff. I don’t want to get in the way. I think it’d be great, if you and Dad—”
“Tony!”
“Well, you know.”
“What I know,” she said briskly, “is that you guys have an English assignment due this week. Have you picked out your books yet?”