Her Kind of Man. Debbie Macomber
saw. She put on a show for me in the parking lot.”
“Oh.” Now that was an intelligent response and Shana resisted the urge to kick herself. She intensely disliked the way Adam made her feel like an awkward teenager. Until recently, she’d considered herself a competent professional, a woman who could cope with any social situation, and it irked her no end that this man could agitate her like this. “Where are you two headed today?” she asked conversationally, hoping to hide her complete lack of a brain.
Adam sauntered up to the cash register, apparently in no hurry to leave. “I haven’t decided yet. I thought I’d get some suggestions from Miss Jazz.”
“Good idea.” Before she sent him off with Jazmine, perhaps she should enlighten him about her niece’s continuing efforts to match up the two of them. “Do you have a few minutes before you go?”
“Sure.” He slid onto one of the stools.
Rubbing her palms against her apron, Shana took a moment to clear her thoughts. “I don’t know if you’ve noticed,” she began, “but Jazmine seems to be working hard at, uh, getting the two of us together.” She paused. “This is in spite of your…little talk.”
Adam leaned forward. “I got the hint in our last phone conversation, when she started mentioning your name in practically every sentence.”
“She does that to you, too?” Interesting. And, she supposed, predictable. “You’re a frequent topic of conversation yourself.”
He chuckled. “She’s been e-mailing me updates on you.”
“Updates on what?”
“I haven’t paid a lot of attention.”
She was unexpectedly miffed by that but decided his indifference was probably for the best.
“By the way, how’s Brad?”
Shana nearly bit her tongue in an effort to hide her reaction. “I thought you said you weren’t paying attention,” she said. “Brad isn’t important.”
“Really? That’s curious because—”
“I have something to discuss,” she said, cutting him off before they both got sidetracked by the unpleasant subject of Brad.
“Have at it,” Adam said, gesturing toward her.
“First, since we’re both aware that Jazmine’s busy playing matchmaker, it seems the best defense is to be honest with each other.” She half expected an argument.
“I agree.”
He seemed utterly relaxed; in contrast, Shana’s nerves were as tight as an overwound guitar string.
“Okay,” she said, taking a deep breath. “I think you’re wonderful with Jazmine and…and mildly attractive.” The man already had an overblown ego and she wasn’t about to give him any encouragement.
“Really?” He perked up at that.
“Yes,” she admitted reluctantly, “and there are probably a few other positive traits I could add.”
He checked his watch. “I have time.”
She ignored him. “But without going into why I feel a relationship between us wouldn’t work—”
“Aren’t you being a little hasty?” he asked without allowing her to finish.
“No,” she insisted. “Besides, I’m not interested.” She wondered if a big red neon light spelling liar was flashing over her head. She was interested, but she suspected this whole attraction thing was just the result of being on the rebound. She needed to take it slow, ease into another relationship. Letting Adam Kennedy sweep her off her feet was definitely a bad idea.
He stared at her blankly. “Interested in what?”
“You. I don’t mean to be blunt or rude, but I felt I should be clear about that.”
“No problem.” He shrugged, his expression unchanged.
“I didn’t mean to offend you.”
“You didn’t,” he assured her and he certainly didn’t look put off by her confession.
“It’s just that this isn’t the right time for me to get involved,” she rushed to add, confused now and more than a little embarrassed. She wished she’d thought this through more carefully. “I’ve only had the business a short while, and all my energy and resources are tied up in it.”
“Of course. That makes perfect sense.”
“This has nothing to do with you personally.” She was only digging herself in deeper now but couldn’t seem to stop.
“Shana, it’s not a problem. Don’t worry, okay? If anything, it’s a relief.”
“It is?” she blurted out.
“We should keep each other informed,” he murmured. “Just like you suggested. Jazmine is a sweet kid, but we both need to be aware of her game plan.”
“Exactly.” She felt guilty about the things she’d said. “I hope I didn’t offend you—sometimes my tongue goes faster than my brain.”
“Not at all,” he told her patiently.
“Good.” It was probably ridiculous to be so worried about a nine-year-old’s scheme and even more ridiculous to mention it to Adam. Thankfully he’d taken everything with a sense of humor.
“Uncle Adam!” Jazmine skated into the parlor and at one glance from Shana, sat down and removed her skates. “Are you done yet? Can we leave now?”
“In a minute.”
“Great!” Jazmine looked about as happy as Shana could remember seeing her. “School’s out for the year.” She slipped on her tennis shoes without bothering to tie them.
Shana’s cheeks still burned with embarrassment and she was eager to see Adam and Jazmine leave. “You guys have a great time,” she mumbled. “Bye.”
Adam slid off the stool and with Jazmine at his side, they ambled out. After the door closed, Shana felt oddly depressed, although she couldn’t name the precise reason. She didn’t want to analyze it, either.
Business was slow for a Saturday, but experience told Shana it would pick up around lunchtime. She had two part-time employees now in addition to Catherine, the retired woman the Olsens had recommended, who was Shana’s most valuable employee. She moved easily between the ice-cream section and the pizza parlor, and she was fully capable of taking over if Shana wanted time off, which was reassuring. This was the one buffer Shana felt she needed now that she was Jazmine’s guardian.
Around eleven, the young father Jazmine had talked to a few weeks earlier stepped into the restaurant. He was without his kids today. He strolled up to the pizza counter; from there he could see Shana in the kitchen, where she was busy stirring a vat of soup. She’d discovered a brand of concentrated soups that tasted as good as homemade and was pleased with the results.
“Hi,” he said casually, leaning against the counter.
“Can I help you?” Shana pretended not to remember him, which was the exact opposite of the way she treated her other customers. She worked hard at remembering people’s names and creating a warm and welcoming atmosphere. She knew his, too—Tim—but refused to acknowledge it.
“I was wondering if you’d be interested in dinner and a movie.”
His invitation took her completely off guard. “I—I beg your pardon?”
“I…well, actually, I was asking you out on a date.” His voice was a monotone now, as if she’d deflated his ego, and Shana instantly felt bad.
“I’m flattered, but—”
“Your