A Great Kisser. Donna Kauffman
Читать онлайн книгу.
badly off guard, hearing her mother called by her new married name. She’d never thought to wonder if her mother had changed her name. It just felt…odd. Okay, it felt downright wrong, but she was trying—really—to be the new and improved, less biased, more compassionate Lauren. Which was challenging enough without being known on sight to yet another complete stranger. “Lauren Matthews,” she said, introducing herself.
“It’s a pleasure to meet you. George—he’s the owner—gave the mayor a private room so you all could reunite without any distractions.”
“Oh,” she said. Great. Everyone not only knew they were dining here, but it was also apparently common knowledge that it was also their first family meeting. Lovely. Well, she supposed she should be grateful, at least, for the private room. She had no idea how the next hour was going to go, but the less public the better. “Thank you.”
“I’ll show you the way. Follow me.”
Lauren was probably imagining that everybody was staring at her as she passed through the crowded dining room. Surely they were all whispering about something else completely, and there really wasn’t a hush as she approached followed by a sudden burst of conversation after she passed by. All in her head.
She tried not to make eye contact and just prepare herself for the imminent hellos, and felt entirely conspicuous as Kim nodded at any number of diners as they took what had to be the most convoluted path possible through the tables. She wondered if that had been on purpose, so everyone could get a good gander at the mayor’s new stepdaughter. After all, the place seemed unusually packed for a Thursday night.
Then Kim ducked them through an archway and paused outside a curtained-off door. “Here you are, Miss Matthews.”
“Lauren.”
Kim beamed. “Lauren. It’s a pleasure. Stephan will be here shortly to take your order. You have a great night.”
“Thank you,” she said, half wishing she could just stand out here and chat with Kim some more. Kim was an easy crowd to please. But the hostess bustled off—with a cheery wave of course—and Lauren turned toward the closed curtain. Another deep breath. After a six-month delay, it was suddenly showtime.
As soon as she ducked through the curtain, letting it fall shut again behind her, her mother immediately got up and came around the table, engulfing her daughter in a hug. “Lauren, I’m so glad you came, sweetheart. I’ve missed you so much.”
Lauren’s face was smooshed into her mother’s soft silver hair, so she couldn’t respond and couldn’t get a look at Arlen, but it felt so good, after so much time, and so much emotion and heartache, to be hugged by her mom that she simply hugged her back.
It was long moments later before Charlene finally set her back, but such a load had already been lifted from her shoulders with that one, heartfelt hug that Lauren felt a rejuvenation of hope that maybe this could all turn out far, far better than she’d allowed herself to dream.
Lauren pushed her own hair from her face and blinked back the tears threatening to form. “I am, too,” she said. Could it really be this simple? Guilt swamped her. She should have made the trip out sooner, carved the time into her schedule, her life, and not waited until it had become this cataclysmic. They’d just needed to see each other in order to regain perspective and get their priorities back in place. Their bond had always been so strong, it could weather anything. She should have never let it get this bad.
Then Arlen stepped into view behind her mother, and Lauren’s stomach squeezed right back into a tight ball. She’d been so overwhelmed and happy to be reunited with her mother, she’d neglected to remember that the actual reason behind their estrangement had yet to be dealt with.
His face was a bit paunchier than the photos she’d found during her investigative forays, and his hair a bit thinner, but otherwise there was no mistaking that this was the mayor of Cedar Springs. There was also no mistaking that this was a man who oozed a particular brand of God-given charisma and natural charm. The kind that allowed him to work a room, shake hands, kiss babies, and shoot the bull with just about anyone, all without actually uttering a truly sincere word. Sort of like a really sharp used-car salesman. Or a snake-oil salesman.
And, for the life of her, she hadn’t a clue what her mother saw in him.
The woman who’d raised her would never have fallen for that kind of skin-deep magnetism. She could spot a phony a mile away. Ten miles. In fact, it was partly her ability to read a person within five seconds of meeting them that had made her such a successful and popular hostess. No one could seat a room as well as Charlene Matthews. It was a special skill but was largely responsible for the success of whatever event she was helping to sponsor. And you couldn’t do that if you didn’t have a knack for instantly knowing who and what you were dealing with.
But, Lauren thought, struggling mightily—oh so mightily—to scrape together at least a modicum of objectivity, perhaps there were hidden charms to be found that his more obvious character flaws hid from plain sight. She’d do best to sit back and watch her mother interact with him and see if perhaps it all explained itself.
But to do that, she had to get the party started. To that end, she mustered up the fake sincere smile that her years on the political party circuit had honed to perfection and turned to face him. “Hello,” she said, deciding to take the upper hand. It remained to be seen how long she held it. “I’m Lauren.” She put her hand out to avoid any potential awkward attempt at hugging, as well as to establish that while she was going to be polite, she wasn’t going to be insincere and say she was happy to meet him. Best to be as up front as possible with the man, no matter what her mother might be hoping for.
“Arlen,” he said, thankfully dispensing with any formal or titular introductions.
Neither of which would have surprised her after reading a few of his speeches. In fact, when he stepped closer to take her offered hand, she duly noted the automatic “kissing babies stump speeching” smile she was certain came as easily to him as breathing, but was surprised to also notice that he appeared almost a little nervous. There was a thin sheen of perspiration on his forehead even though the temperature in the room was quite moderate. Could he really be so worried about whether or not his wife’s new daughter gave them her blessing? From what she’d gleaned about the man, that wouldn’t likely be the case. So…why the telltale flopsweat?
“It’s a true pleasure to finally be making your acquaintance,” he said, still sounding like he was stumping for votes. Some politicians were like that, she’d learned, adopting a fixed-smile social persona that they became so entrenched in, they found themselves unable to flip the switch to truly sincere when the moment—and the company—dictated it. Like, you know…with family.
Others, like Senator Fordham, were comfortable and easily and sincerely themselves in any circumstance, private and social. A shame Arlen didn’t fall into her former boss’s category. But then, if he had, she’d have understood more why her mother had fallen for the man and they wouldn’t be having this awkward dinner meeting in the first place.
“Please, have a seat,” he added, all fixed smile and perfect, dentist-enhanced teeth. And…nervous. Up close it was even more obvious. “I hope you don’t mind the private room; I thought you and your mother would appreciate the privacy. I—”
“We do,” she said, feeling oddly compelled to put him at ease. It threw her off a little, his slight lack of composure. She’d been certain he would ooze the same rather smarmy charm she’d noted in the few taped speeches she’d been able to scrounge up during her search. And the smarmy charm was definitely there on the surface; his plastered-on enthusiasm hadn’t changed a flicker since she’d entered the room, but the underlying nerves didn’t seem to match up right.
She wanted to believe it was just about a man wanting to please his new wife. But he hadn’t so much as glanced at her since Lauren had entered the room, much less shown any kind of united front by standing next to her. Which left the other, less flattering, but far more plausible option, given what she knew. That his nerves stemmed from him wanting to