.
committee,” Aunt Sandy said. Dinah, do you think we could find a job for Cameron?”
“We still need someone to get all the supplies donated,” offered Emily. “That sounds like a negotiation to me.”
Negotiating cookie supplies? Hardly the social introduction Cameron had in mind. “I don’t know anyone in town yet.”
“Nonsense,” Howard called out. “You know me. And Emily, and Dinah and Sandy. That’s all the start anyone needs.”
Emily raised an eyebrow as she took a bite of her sandwich. “You didn’t mention how handsome your new landlord was.”
“Granted, he’s cute in a suity, urban sort of way, but you know I’m not a fan of the suity urban type. If I’d have wanted to surround myself with upwardly mobile hunks, I’d have stayed back in Jersey.”
“But the hunk’s come to you. Divine intervention?”
Dinah put down her iced tea. “Let’s list the reasons why that would be a bad idea, shall we?” She held up one finger. “He’s my landlord now. I don’t plan to change my ‘never mix business with pleasure’ mentality. Two,” she held up a second finger, “you can take the man out of the suit, but you definitely can’t take the suit out of that man. Look at him.” She nodded in Cameron’s direction, grabbing Emily’s arm when she actually started looking over her shoulder. “No, I don’t mean really look at him. Figure of speech here?” She blew a curl out of her eye in exasperation—she didn’t want to be having this conversation at all, much less with Emily’s current love-struck outlook on life. “He’s gonna last one year in this place, tops. The guy practically considers himself in exile out here.”
Emily popped a potato chip into her mouth. “He goes to church, Dinah. And he negotiates a mean oven. And he loaned you the money to get it—you can’t say that wasn’t a nice thing to do.”
“Again, mixing business with pleasure. Which brings me to reason number three: The guy’s a tycoon in training. A predator in a three-piece suit. You should have seen him trying to get the last fifty dollars knocked off the purchase price. You’d have thought lives were at stake. No, I think I’ve seen enough to know he’s not my kind of guy. The last thing I’m looking for is a guy who’s got to go through life with the upper hand.”
Emily smiled and selected another potato chip. “A girl could do worse.”
Dinah mentally calculated the two months left until Emily was married off and her romantic energies could be trained elsewhere. Then again, it might get even worse once she was knee-deep in marital bliss.
Hadn’t she fled New Jersey to get away from just this kind of thing?
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