Triplets Found: The Virgin's Makeover / Take a Chance on Me / And Then There Were Three. Judy Duarte
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Lissa, who’d just lifted her wineglass for a sip, choked momentarily, then pressed a white linen napkin to her mouth before saying, “Excuse me.”
Sullivan stole a glance her way and realized she wasn’t at all comfortable with her mother’s shift to yenta mode. He sympathized with the young woman who probably was as happy to be unattached as he was. If she weren’t, he suspected she’d dress differently.
“I enjoy the freedom to come and go as I choose,” he told the mother.
“Well, that’s wonderful,” Donna said, although Sullivan had a feeling she thought it was wonderful that he was a bachelor. And that she’d quickly put aside the fact he liked being single.
The older woman tucked a wavy strand of shoulder-length hair behind her ear and continued to hone in on her target. “Surely a man like you must be seeing someone special.”
Sullivan had been down this road many times before. “I date several ladies, Mrs. Cartwright. And each of them is pretty special.”
“You’ll have to forgive my wife for prying into your life,” Ken said, with a chuckle. “She thinks everyone needs to be as happily married as we are.”
Yeah, well Sullivan’s experience told him that many women liked to play matchmaker, whether they were happily married or not.
For some reason, the female of the species seemed to harbor a happily-ever-after fantasy, but he didn’t hold on to that illusion any longer. Katherine and Clarence Grayson might have been proper and genteel when they socialized with Charleston’s wealthy families. But behind the walls of the family estate, they hadn’t behaved any differently than a warring couple in the seedier part of town. The broken dishes and figurines merely cost more money to replace.
“I’m afraid growing up in the midst of marital misery has made me gun-shy,” Sullivan said.
Donna seemed to take his statement into consideration and didn’t immediately speak.
Sullivan slid a glance at Lissa, who sat up straight—much like a rocket ready to blast off. She probably needed a break as badly as he did.
He shifted in his seat toward Ken, intending to send the conversation in a safer direction, and caught the vintner’s eyes. “This merlot is excellent. I think we’ll need to work the marketing strategy around it, too.”
“I thought you’d like it.” The older man leaned back in his chair. “But you haven’t tasted anything until you try Lissa’s new blend.”
“I’m looking forward to it.” This time, when Sullivan glanced at Lissa, she didn’t seem to be quite as tense. Maybe more like a firecracker than a rocket.
He didn’t usually sympathize with single women whose mothers were dead set on seeing them in white lace and a veil, but shy and unassuming Lissa tugged at a sympathetic vein in his heart.
Besides, from what he’d learned while researching his new clients, Lissa loved the vineyard and had a real head for business. The people he’d spoken to referred to her as a career woman, with nothing on her mind but the success of the family vineyard.
And that assessment had been validated by what he’d observed earlier today. He figured she meant to make Valencia Vineyards her life.
Apparently, her mother hadn’t wanted to accept that decision.
“Can I get anyone seconds?” Donna asked.
“Not me.” Sullivan leaned away from the table. “I haven’t eaten this well in ages.”
Again, he looked at Lissa, who seemed to be studying her plate. Unless she’d gotten a full heaping of seconds when he wasn’t looking, she hadn’t eaten much at all. He had a feeling the mother-hen inquisition had annoyed her, too.
And why shouldn’t it bother her? She had a business relationship with Sullivan to think about. And they had a lot of work ahead of them. Romantic thoughts would only get in the way, distract them from their focus.
As soon as he could get her alone, he’d have to let her know that this stuff happened to him all the time, and that she shouldn’t be the least bit embarrassed, not on his account.
“Decaffeinated coffee anyone?” Donna asked, obviously in her element as a gracious hostess.
“I’ll have a cup,” Ken said.
The attractive older woman tossed Sullivan a pleasant smile. “How about you?”
“No thank you.” Sullivan was ready for the evening to end, especially since he wasn’t about to lay himself open for any more questions. And he didn’t particularly like seeing Lissa look as if she were sitting in a dental chair, waiting for a root canal.
The dark-haired young woman gathered her nearly full plate and silverware, along with those of her father and Sullivan, then went into the kitchen, followed by her mother.
Minutes later, when they returned with coffee and slices of cheesecake with a raspberry sauce, Donna wore a solemn expression.
Had she been chastised by her daughter? Probably so, because Lissa looked a bit more comfortable than when she’d been seated at the table.
No telling what—if anything—had gone on in the kitchen, but Sullivan had a feeling Lissa had asked her mother to back off. He hoped the older woman’s curiosity had been sated. For everyone’s sake.
Actually, Donna Cartwright was a nice lady. Just determined to marry off her last daughter, he supposed.
But Sullivan wasn’t in the market for a wife. Not now. Not ever. And the sooner the Cartwrights understood that, the better.
Lissa couldn’t wait for the horrible evening to end. What must Sullivan think of her—or her mother?
She knew her mom didn’t mean any harm, but if Lissa ever decided to go on a manhunt, she didn’t want her mother to pave the way.
At least after their little chat in the kitchen, Mom had gotten the message that Lissa wasn’t looking for a husband.
Of course, if she’d been more like Eileen, Sullivan Grayson would have made a great catch. But she wasn’t anything like Eileen. And besides, he’d made himself clear. He was happy being a bachelor.
“The cheesecake was delicious,” Sullivan said. “In fact, the entire meal was out of this world. I’m going to put on weight while I work here.”
Donna beamed like a Girl Scout with a new merit badge. “Well, I’m glad you decided to join us.”
Relieved to see the stressful dinner conversation winding down, Lissa pushed her seat away from the table. “If you don’t mind, I’ll slip into the kitchen and wash the dishes.”
Sullivan stood and reached for his desert plate and fork. “Let me help you.”
Lissa nearly dropped the cup and saucer she’d picked up, but for the life of her, she couldn’t speak, couldn’t object. Of course, knowing her mother, she wouldn’t have to.
“How thoughtful,” Donna told Sullivan, even though it was her habit to shoo off any guest who volunteered to help in the kitchen. “Ken and I will just go on to bed.”
At seven-thirty?
Ken glanced at his watch, furrowed his brow, then cocked his head. “It’s pretty early for bed, don’t you think?”
Lissa didn’t take time to listen to her mother’s explanation. Instead, she disappeared into the kitchen.
Unfortunately, Sullivan followed her.
She wanted to tell him that she needed some time alone, to regroup after her mother’s lame attempt to find her a husband. But she kept her mouth shut for a while, until she could figure out what to say.
“I noticed how uncomfortable you were in there,” he said.
Lissa