The Dating Arrangement. Kerri Carpenter

The Dating Arrangement - Kerri Carpenter


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her sister’s perfect husband and even more ideal marriage. Instead she headed toward the front of the store, ready to bid her mother farewell and get back to work. Only, her mother had other ideas.

      “Oh Emerson, before you go, I wanted to tell you that my friend Suzette—you remember her, right?” She didn’t wait for Emerson’s answer. “Suzette is having a dinner party next week and her son will be there. He’s just recently moved back from New York. He’s a year older than you.”

      Emerson froze. “Um, I have to work that night.”

      Beatrice squinted. “I haven’t told you what day it is.” She waved her hand nonchalantly. “Doesn’t matter. Also, Patty Ellington-Ross’s nephew is available and I thought it would be nice for you to show him around town. After all, Patty did attend your wedding. Or she tried to.”

      Emerson didn’t know which part of that statement pissed her off the most.

      Amelia jumped in. “Mama, I actually have a guy that I think would be perfect for Em. He works with Charlie.”

      Emerson knew her sister was trying to help her, attempting to get their mother off her back. But she honestly couldn’t tell if Amelia really did want to set her up or not.

      “I don’t need anyone to set me up on dates,” she said.

      “Of course you do.” Her mother waved a hand in a flippant manner. “You haven’t been on a date since Thad.”

      She took a deep breath. “Actually, I’m seeing someone,” she shouted.

      Her mother and Amelia both paused, with their eyes going wide.

      “Why didn’t you tell me?” Amelia asked.

      At the same time, her mother said, “Who is he? What’s his name?”

      Now she’d really done it. She had wanted to keep Jack out of this for as long as possible. But it looked like she would have to move up the timeline. At least, she could probably keep her family away from him until the anniversary party. They should be happy enough to simply know of his existence.

      “His name is Jack Wright and we haven’t been seeing each other very long.” She glanced at the time on her cell phone display. A whole hour had passed since she’d landed on top of Jack.

      “Jack Wright,” her mother rolled the name around on her tongue, the same way her father savored a good bourbon.

      “Right. I didn’t tell you about him because the whole thing is still so new. You know, I didn’t want to jinx anything.”

      Her mother folded her arms across her chest.

      Emerson felt obliged to elaborate. “Plus I was so ridiculously busy planning the food truck festival.”

      Her mother started tapping her foot. “What does this Jack Wright do?”

      Not for the first time in her life, Emerson had to wonder why mothers insisted on putting this in front of people’s names.

      “He owns The Wright Drink, that bar I mentioned.”

      “A bar?” Her mother’s eyebrows shot so high up her forehead, they might as well be across the Potomac River, in the District. “He’s a bartender?”

      “Yes, but he also owns the bar.” Emerson could feel her anger rising. God forbid her boyfriend—or fake boyfriend—wasn’t a lawyer, like her father and her perfect brother-in-law.

      “Wait,” Amelia added. “Didn’t you just say that bar was a new client? You’re going out with one of your clients?”

      Thanks, sis. “That’s how we met. He hired me. I know it’s not the best idea, but I’ll only be working on the bar for a limited time.”

      Silence fell over them. But the quiet was a mere reprieve, because the rapid-fire questions began almost immediately.

      “How old is he? Where’s his family from?” her mother asked.

      “Is he hot?” Amelia asked.

      “Where did he go to school?”

      “What’s he like?”

      Jack was right. They totally needed to get to know each other. And fast.

      “Um, um...”

      “You need to bring him to dinner,” her mother announced. “At the house. We should meet him.”

      “Why?” she screeched.

      “Because it’s customary for the family to get to know your boyfriend.”

      Amelia snorted. “Yeah, maybe in 1950. Mama, you are so old-fashioned.”

      Beatrice actually appeared shocked by the statement. “No, I’m not. I’m just a concerned mother, taking an interest in her daughter’s life.”

      Amelia rolled her eyes dramatically. “Concerned? More like nosy.”

      “Fine, fine, I’ll stay out of it completely.” Beatrice tipped her nose into the air. “I won’t ask either of you anything about your lives. I’ll just stay on the sidelines, completely quiet.”

      “Sounds good to me,” Emerson said.

      Unfortunately, Amelia had a different reply. She put her arm around their mother’s shoulders. “Mama, we would never want that.”

      Emerson shook her head. Her sister would never learn. She fell into their mother’s traps every single time.

      Seeming appeased, Beatrice said, “Thank you, darling.” She kissed Amelia on the forehead. “Besides, most people think I’m quite modern, with impeccable taste. You know how in-demand this store is. We rarely have an opening for a fitting.”

      “Here we go again,” Emerson said in a stage whispered to her sister, knowing exactly where this was going. “The reality show.”

      Beatrice put on an air of shock. “What? It’s true. That network did want to film a reality show here. But I didn’t want to expose our brides-to-be to that kind of public scrutiny.”

      Amelia snorted. “You may be on the cutting edge here at the store, but everywhere else in your life, you are so, so...”

      “Southern,” Emerson finished for her.

      “And what is wrong with that? My mama knew every young man who courted me.”

      She saw Amelia biting her tongue at the use of courted.

      “But the whole thing is so new,” Emerson protested.

      “Thursday night at the house. Let’s see.” Beatrice tapped her finger against her lips. “We’ll have a filet and use my mama’s china.”

      “Honestly, Mama, no one does stuff like that. We’re eating dinner with some guy Em’s dating, not the Queen of England.”

      “I think it’s nice to put a little effort into dinner. Makes a guest feel special.”

      “I’m gonna throw up,” Emerson announced.

      Her mother narrowed her eyes. But after a long moment, she acquiesced. “Fine. We’ll have chicken and dumplings.”

      “Yes!” Amelia pumped her fist into the air. Beatrice Dewitt truly did make the best chicken and dumplings in town.

      “I’ll even use our normal, everyday plates. Satisfied?” She arched an eyebrow in Emerson’s direction.

      “But, Mama, this is all unnecessary.”

      “However, we are definitely eating in the dining room. I will not compromise on that.” Her mother wasn’t listening. She was already in full-on planning mode, filling a void left after Amelia’s wedding.

      “Seven o’clock, Emerson. Tell this Jack to be there. Amelia, come with me.” She snapped


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