The Perfect Groom. Ruth Scofield
meet his parents, she unexpectedly found a stack of letters, current ones, from a girl back in his Texas hometown. That girl was engaged to Dan, too.
Brokenhearted, Ivy let Dan go back to his Texas girl and packed away her dreams along with her wedding clothes. Her easy trust went with them.
Now she searched for a man who had more to offer than mere charm and good looks. She wanted a man of substance. A sophisticated, polished man who could offer her an easier life-style than what she’d known up until now. She’d settle for no less.
“Well, ladies,” Noah said half an hour later, picking up plates and carrying them to the sink. “I hate to eat and run, but I do have some work to take care of in the morning. Thanks, Arletta. That was a wonderful meal.”
“Really, Noah, you don’t have to help with the dishes,” Aunt Arletta replied with almost a simper. “It’s my pleasure to have someone to cook for now and again. Does my ego good, you know.”
“Well, thanks a bunch, Aunt A. Don’t I count?”
“Of course you do, Ivy dear, but one likes cooking for a healthy appetite sometimes. Half the time, you don’t even eat.”
“I’ll be glad to pander to your pleasure in cooking anytime you say the word, Arletta. Well, I’ll say good-night now.” He paused to give Ivy a considering stare, his thumbs hooked in his back pockets. “Ivy, I think you need to get a good night’s sleep. You’re lovely as always, but looking a little wornout. Don’t work too hard.”
He left then, swinging out of the door without giving her a chance at a comeback. She stood a moment counting to ten, wondering if he was worth even that high a number before stomping off the bed.
Gerald Reeves called Wall’s Intrigue the next day.
“Oh, Yes, Mr. Reeves, I called the framer, Joe Barton,” Ivy answered in the pleasant, professional voice she’d learned at sixteen. “He suggested you have someone bring the frames into his shop. Didn’t you receive the message I left on your machine?”
“Yes, I have it. And since Mr. Barton is also an art restorer, I’ve asked him to come to the house to check the conditions of our older paintings. But I’d like you to come as well, if you don’t mind, and give me an opinion of what we might do in an upstairs hall and a couple of rooms I’m thinking of redecorating. I’ll pay the going rate for your time, naturally.”
“Of course I’d be happy to,” she replied, a little surprised and flattered, too. If Gerald Reeves wanted to hire her, it meant her store had gained a notch in reputation.
She hadn’t done much in the way of home calls in her consulting work until now—the store kept her too busy. She did keep a list of interior designers for that purpose, two of whom had excellent reputations, and offered to call either of them now.
“No, I’ll be quite satisfied with your services, Ivy. And call me Gerry, please? See you Friday at eleven,” he said, not giving her a chance to say no.
“Yes, that will do nicely.”
Ivy hung up the phone and happily picked up the work roster to make sure she had enough help in the store on Friday. Sherri was scheduled to work Friday evening, she recalled. She really couldn’t ask her to work all day and evening, too.
That meant she’d have to make do with Tina, who was inexperienced and new. But she couldn’t leave Tina alone; the girl was too nervous. Too many things could go wrong. Especially now that the year’s busiest season was getting under way.
Yet she couldn’t miss this opportunity to work on Reeves House. It could mean a lot in future recommendations.
She sighed and straightened her shoulders. Keeping good help with only part-timers always meant a juggling of schedules; she sometimes bent herself into a pretzel to keep a reliable clerk. She appreciated Sherri, who worked on a small commission above her minimum salary. Ivy considered her worth every penny, but the store profits simply wouldn’t stretch to offering that kind of arrangement to another clerk.
Tapping her pen against her notepad, she wondered if she should hire the busy mother who applied for work last week. Emily only wanted to work through the holidays. Emily had retail experience, but she’d have to find a baby-sitter if she worked days, she’d said.
Perhaps Aunt Arietta…
No, no, no! For heaven’s sake, what was she thinking? The last time she’d asked Aunt A to watch the store for a morning the older woman sold an expensive window treatment for half price and Ivy’d had to pay for the installation, as well. All because Aunt A had read the price chart wrong. Not wanting to give the shop a bad name, Ivy hadn’t felt it was good business to try to correct the mistake with the customer.
There was always the college kid Noah recommended. Without giving herself time to think about it, she looked up Noah’s number.
“Morning, Old Garden Gate,” his deep voice rumbled out, sending a current of warmth right through the line. Every time she heard his voice, Ivy wondered if it made other women feel like warm syrup ran through their veins, too.
“Hello, Noah,” she said in her business voice while tamping down a desire to soften her response. “This is Ivy. I called for the number of the young man you suggested might be interested in working for me.”
“Ah, yes. Brad. Just a moment.” She heard a bit of paper shuffling before he gave her the numbers, then said, “He’s probably in class this morning, though.”
“All right.” She tapped her pen and circled the number. “Thanks. I appreciate it.”
That was easy enough. She didn’t have to engage him in more talk. A business call didn’t have to extend to anything personal.
“Ivy?”
“Yes?”
“There’s a single’s potluck on Saturday night at church. You going?”
The singles from church gathered together for social purposes on a regular basis. His invitation sounded too general. Why should she jump to go? “Oh, I don’t know. Usually I’m pretty ragged out by Saturday night.”
“C’mon.” His tone took on one of a coaxing big brother—but the melting inside her heated up just the same. “You have to have a little fun now and again and you close at six on Saturdays. When was the last time you just relaxed with a group of people your own age? And it’s usually a good-size group, I’m told, and I’m new to this bunch.”
Uh-huh. Right. As though he’d ever feel a stranger in any gathering.
“I’ll see how I feel on Saturday.”
“You could make me feel at home.” The invitation, spoken in a deeper voice, made her heart skip a beat. There wasn’t anything brotherly about it.
“Well, maybe.”
Now why had she gone and said that?
“Good.” His tone changed from coaxing to commanding. “I’ll pick you up around half past seven. Meanwhile, if Brad doesn’t work out for you, let me know. I might have someone else who could help you out.”
Uh-huh. Right. Since when was he her employment agency?
She left a message on Brad’s answering machine and went back to checking over her work applications. The young mother, Emily, was her best choice after all.
On Friday morning, she left a nervous Tina and Emily in charge of the noontime walk-in trade, and giving a silent prayer that all would go smoothly in her absence, left for Reeves House. Brad would come later in the afternoon to work with Sherri. She could trust Sherri to train him. And she’d be there until closing herself, and could observe how the young man worked