A Decent Proposal

“What?”

She met his gaze. “Getting a spot out front. I guess since this is a weeknight and school just started up after the summer, it must be a slow night.”

“Are you disappointed?”

“Not really,” she said. “But more people would help spread the word to my dad that we’re an item.”

He exited the driver’s side and came around to open her door. Offering his hand to help her out, he said, “It doesn’t look very crowded but we’ll work with what we’ve got. Maximize resources.”

“Okay.”

When he locked the car and took her hand in his she was instantly stricken with a bad case of the tingles—from head to toe. Every nerve was on high alert and threatening to light up all her feminine hormones.

The buzz died when they walked inside and Syd recognized the new hostess, who just happened to be an old friend. Well, former friend. More of a frenemy. Violet Walker—actually it was Stewart now. The woman looked up from behind the wooden stand with the sign that said Please Wait To Be Seated. The automatic “welcome to the diner” smile froze on her face.

Still holding Syd’s hand, Burke must have felt a reaction because he asked, “Something wrong?”

Other than the fact that she’d come face-to-face for the first time in years with her former bestie who’d stolen and married the man Syd had expected would propose to her?

“No,” she answered in a tight voice. “Everything’s just peachy.”

They walked closer to the other woman and Syd said, “Hello, Violet.”

“Sydney. Hi.” The familiar blue eyes were filled with guilt.

“I didn’t know you—and Charlie—were back.”

“Surprise.”

Syd was pretty much at her tolerance limit for surprises tonight. That didn’t stop her from noticing that Violet’s thick brunette hair was shorter, cut in an edgy bob that was very flattering.

“You look great, Syd.”

“So do you.”

That was no automatic response. Violet was curvier and it looked good on her. She’d always been too thin. If anything she was even prettier now than when she’d begged forgiveness for falling in love with Sydney’s boyfriend.

Violet looked at the man still holding Syd’s hand. “Nice to see you again, Mr. Holden.”

“It’s Burke, remember?” His tone hinted that he’d said it more than once. But he’d said he knew the place, which probably meant he’d been here a few times.

“Right. You’ve been in here enough to know everyone’s name.” The other woman’s smile was strained. “Two for dinner?”

“Yes. A booth in the back if you have it.”

“Right this way.”

There weren’t many people in the place, but all of them were long-time residents of Blackwater Lake who knew what had happened between the former best friends. As they walked clear to the back of the diner, Syd felt all of them looking, wondering, and decided a slow night had been a blessing in disguise. Not that news of her and Burke wouldn’t spread, but it was easier to see Violet again in front of a smaller crowd.

Violet stopped at an empty booth. “How’s this?”

“Perfect,” Burke responded.

“Enjoy your dinner.” The words were professional and matched the smile on her face.

When she was gone and they were seated across the table from each other, Burke asked, “So, want to tell me what that was all about?”

“Not really, no.”

He opened his mouth to ask more, but the diner owner walked over. Michelle Crawford, a brunette whose hair was streaked with silver, was somewhere in her fifties. Her brown eyes were filled with concern.

“Hi, Syd. Burke, it’s good to see you again.” She settled a look on Syd. “You didn’t know Violet and Charlie moved back, did you? And this is the first time you’ve seen her since...” She lowered her voice. “You know. I could tell by the expression on your face.”

Any hope that no one had noticed her reaction went right out the window. “No,” she said, “I didn’t know they were back.”

“Oh, honey—” Michelle touched her shoulder. “Your dad should have warned you.”

“He knows?” The words were automatic, but obviously he did. “Probably a heads-up slipped his mind. But it’s fine, Michelle. Been a long time. Don’t give it another thought.”

“All right, honey. Glad you’re okay.” She smiled, then pointed to the menus stacked behind the napkin holder. “I’ll let you look over the choices and be back in a few minutes to take your orders.”

When she was gone, Burke’s eyebrows drew together. “Whether you want to or not, it’s probably best that you bring me up to speed on your ancient history.”

“Are you going to tell me about yours?” He was divorced and had a son. She was curious about that.

“As it pertains to our agreement, yes. Like you said—need-to-know basis. But Blackwater Lake is your turf. And what happened to you is probably something you would tell a boyfriend.”

Before Syd could respond, an older couple walked over to the table. Tillie Newman and her husband, Pete, were friends of her father and brought their Ford F-150 truck in for an oil change every six months, like clockwork.

“Hi, you two.” Syd looked at them, trying to figure out how to deflect what she knew was coming. “Mr. and Mrs. Newman, have you met Burke Holden? His company is building the resort we’ve heard so much about.” She glanced at him. “Burke, this is Tillie and Pete Newman.”

“Nice to meet you.” He stood and shook hands with them.

“Same here. Welcome to Blackwater Lake.” Tillie’s brown eyes brimmed with sympathy when she looked at Syd. “Sorry to interrupt, but we saw you and Violet. You could just cut the awkwardness with a knife. I just had to make sure you’re all right, sweetheart.”

“I am. That’s all water under the bridge. Or over the dam. Whatever the saying is. No need to be concerned about me.”

Tillie looked relieved. “I’m glad. We always liked Violet and Charlie. Real nice to see them move back where they both grew up. It had to be hard, what happened between you.”

It had been incredibly hard at the time, Syd recalled. “Time heals all.”

“There’s my girl.” Tillie smiled and said, “We’ll leave you two alone now. Come along, Pete.”

“Take care, Syd. Truck’s due for that oil change soon,” the older man said.

“See you then.” She lifted her hand in farewell and watched their backs for as long as she could. When procrastinating was no longer possible, she met Burke’s curious gaze. “So you’re probably jumping to all kinds of conclusions.”

“It doesn’t take a world-class detective to connect the dots.”