mean?”
“It means my parents are arriving here in approximately fifteen minutes and I need backup.”
She stared at him blankly. “Backup? Why?”
“My father hates everything about my being town manager here and my mother wants to choose my new home and decorate it,” he said, sounding a little frantic. Jeanette’s lips twitched. This vulnerable side of him was oddly appealing. “You’re scared of Mommy and Daddy?”
“You won’t say it like that once you’ve met them. My father is a tyrant and my mother is a force of nature.”
“And you want me to meet them after you’ve made them sound so charming?”
“Okay, bad planning on my part. The point is that they are always on their best behavior around strangers. I can feed them at Sullivan’s and have them on their way by two if you’ll help me out by tagging along. I swear it’s not a date. I just need you as a buffer.”
Jeanette found herself enjoying his discomfort. She actually wanted to meet the two people who could throw this self-confident man into such a dither. And it might be nice to see another dysfunctional family in action. It might be reassuring, somehow, to have proof that she wasn’t the only one on the planet who had parental issues. And it wasn’t as if they were dating and meeting his parents was a major moment. As he’d said, she’d be merely a buffer. No big deal.
“There’s just one thing,” she said. “How would you explain me?”
“As a friend,” he said at once. “That’s the truth, isn’t it?
We’re friends, or at least getting there.”
“Casual acquaintance is more apt, but I get why you’d need to call me a friend if you’re including me in this lunch.” She hesitated, then nodded. “Okay, then, as long as there are no hints…” She gave him a stern look. “None, whatsoever, that we are anything more than friends, understood? I don’t want to hear even the tiniest suggestion that we might be friends with benefits.”
“Of course not,” he said solemnly. “Then you’ll do it?”
“I’ll do it.”
He snagged her hand again. “Good, we’re meeting them at the town hall—” he glanced at his watch “—in less than ten minutes. The one thing you don’t ever want to do is keep them waiting. It’s important to make a good first impression.”
Something in his voice alerted her that he hadn’t been entirely honest with her. “Why do you care what kind of impression I make? I’m a buffer, that’s it. It might be even better if they hate my guts on sight.”
“Possibly,” he conceded. “But there’s no point in either of us enduring a ten-minute lecture on the lack of respect implied by tardiness.”
“Agreed,” she said, amused.
Her oddly upbeat mood lasted until she spotted Mr. and Mrs. McDonald—surely it had to be them—emerging from a shiny black car almost the length of a city block. They’d parked across the square from the town hall, which put them some distance away, but she knew in her gut she wasn’t mistaken about who they were. Her horrified gaze barely skimmed over the man, but the woman…she would recognize her anywhere. An image of that artfully colored blond hair, pale complexion and the arrogant lift to her surgically perfected chin was burned into her memory.
“Those are your parents?” she asked. “Over there, getting out of that limo?”
Tom shot a quizzical look at her. “Yes. Why do you look like that? You’re pale as a ghost.”
“I can’t meet your parents,” she whispered, frantically trying to get him to release her hand so she could bolt. Why hadn’t she made the connection before now? It wasn’t as if she’d never heard his last name or didn’t know he was from Charleston. She just didn’t believe in coincidences, that was all. Or she hadn’t wanted to believe in this one. It had been too awful to contemplate.
Tom was still staring at her as if she’d lost her mind.
“Why can’t you meet my parents? Jeanette, what’s
“It means my parents are arriving here in approximately fifteen minutes and I need backup.”
She stared at him blankly. “Backup? Why?”
“My father hates everything about my being town manager here and my mother wants to choose my new home and decorate it,” he said, sounding a little frantic. Jeanette’s lips twitched. This vulnerable side of him was oddly appealing. “You’re scared of Mommy and Daddy?”
“You won’t say it like that once you’ve met them. My father is a tyrant and my mother is a force of nature.”
“And you want me to meet them after you’ve made them sound so charming?”
“Okay, bad planning on my part. The point is that they are always on their best behavior around strangers. I can feed them at Sullivan’s and have them on their way by two if you’ll help me out by tagging along. I swear it’s not a date. I just need you as a buffer.”
Jeanette found herself enjoying his discomfort. She actually wanted to meet the two people who could throw this self-confident man into such a dither. And it might be nice to see another dysfunctional family in action. It might be reassuring, somehow, to have proof that she wasn’t the only one on the planet who had parental issues. And it wasn’t as if they were dating and meeting his parents was a major moment. As he’d said, she’d be merely a buffer. No big deal.
“There’s just one thing,” she said. “How would you explain me?”
“As a friend,” he said at once. “That’s the truth, isn’t it?
We’re friends, or at least getting there.”
“Casual acquaintance is more apt, but I get why you’d need to call me a friend if you’re including me in this lunch.” She hesitated, then nodded. “Okay, then, as long as there are no hints…” She gave him a stern look. “None, whatsoever, that we are anything more than friends, understood? I don’t want to hear even the tiniest suggestion that we might be friends with benefits.”
“Of course not,” he said solemnly. “Then you’ll do it?”
“I’ll do it.”
He snagged her hand again. “Good, we’re meeting them at the town hall—” he glanced at his watch “—in less than ten minutes. The one thing you don’t ever want to do is keep them waiting. It’s important to make a good first impression.”
Something in his voice alerted her that he hadn’t been entirely honest with her. “Why do you care what kind of impression I make? I’m a buffer, that’s it. It might be even better if they hate my guts on sight.”
“Possibly,” he conceded. “But there’s no point in either of us enduring a ten-minute lecture on the lack of respect implied by tardiness.”
“Agreed,” she said, amused.
Her oddly upbeat mood lasted until she spotted Mr. and Mrs. McDonald—surely it had to be them—emerging from a shiny black car almost the length of a city block. They’d parked across the square from the town hall, which put them some distance away, but she knew in her gut she wasn’t mistaken about who they were. Her horrified gaze barely skimmed over the man, but the woman…she would recognize her anywhere. An image of that artfully colored blond hair, pale complexion and the arrogant lift to her surgically perfected chin was burned into her memory.
“Those are your parents?” she asked. “Over there, getting out of that limo?”
Tom shot a quizzical look at her. “Yes. Why do you look like that? You’re pale as a ghost.”
“I can’t meet your parents,” she whispered, frantically trying to get him to release her hand so she could bolt. Why hadn’t she made the connection before now? It wasn’t as if she’d never heard his last name or didn’t know he was from Charleston. She just didn’t believe in coincidences, that was all. Or she hadn’t wanted to believe in this one. It had been too awful to contemplate.
Tom was still staring at her as if she’d lost her mind.
“Why can’t you meet my parents? Jeanette, what’s
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