A Decent Proposal. Teresa Southwick

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A Decent Proposal - Teresa  Southwick


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      Before Syd could respond, an older couple walked over to the table. Tillie Newman and her husband, Pete, were friends of her father and brought their Ford F-150 truck in for an oil change every six months, like clockwork.

      “Hi, you two.” Syd looked at them, trying to figure out how to deflect what she knew was coming. “Mr. and Mrs. Newman, have you met Burke Holden? His company is building the resort we’ve heard so much about.” She glanced at him. “Burke, this is Tillie and Pete Newman.”

      “Nice to meet you.” He stood and shook hands with them.

      “Same here. Welcome to Blackwater Lake.” Tillie’s brown eyes brimmed with sympathy when she looked at Syd. “Sorry to interrupt, but we saw you and Violet. You could just cut the awkwardness with a knife. I just had to make sure you’re all right, sweetheart.”

      “I am. That’s all water under the bridge. Or over the dam. Whatever the saying is. No need to be concerned about me.”

      Tillie looked relieved. “I’m glad. We always liked Violet and Charlie. Real nice to see them move back where they both grew up. It had to be hard, what happened between you.”

      It had been incredibly hard at the time, Syd recalled. “Time heals all.”

      “There’s my girl.” Tillie smiled and said, “We’ll leave you two alone now. Come along, Pete.”

      “Take care, Syd. Truck’s due for that oil change soon,” the older man said.

      “See you then.” She lifted her hand in farewell and watched their backs for as long as she could. When procrastinating was no longer possible, she met Burke’s curious gaze. “So you’re probably jumping to all kinds of conclusions.”

      “It doesn’t take a world-class detective to connect the dots.”

      Syd nodded. “The Charlie they mentioned is a guy I dated in high school and college. I thought he was moving toward a marriage proposal. It turned out that he was—just not to me.”

      “Violet?” he ventured.

      “Yes. She was my best friend since first grade.”

      “That must have been tough.” He reached over and covered her hand with his own. “He’s the one you mentioned. The one who didn’t work out.”

      “Yup.” She glanced away for a moment. “This is the first time I’ve seen her since all that went down.”

      “And?”

      She knew he was asking how she was feeling about it all. “I was shocked to see her since my father failed to share the news of her return. But...”

      “What?” he asked.

      “I was so hurt and angry back then.” She shrugged. “It’s all gone. It really is okay that they’re back. Their parents are here and I’m sure happy to have them close by again.”

      “So you’re sure you don’t want to postpone our planning session for another time and place yet to be determined?”

      “I’m sure,” she said adamantly. “And even if I wasn’t, no way I would leave. McKnights are made of sterner stuff than that.”

      “Okay, then.” He grabbed the menus and handed her one. “What do you recommend?”

      “You tell me. Seems you’ve been here enough that you’re on a first-name basis with people.”

      “It’s a small town.” His look was ironic. “And there aren’t many dining choices. I’ve been here a little over a month and have made the rounds. More than once.”

      “Is this where you pitch the new resort as a solution to our cuisine choice issues?”

      “No. This is where I remind you that even if I’d only been here once, I’d stick out like a fly in milk. I’m...memorable.”

      “True.” It was hard to believe she hadn’t met him before today. Not only because he was right about it being a small town. But she also felt as if they’d known each other much longer. She grinned. “As far as this menu—I like the She Bear burger.”

      He looked down and read the description and raised an eyebrow. “Jalapeño? Mushrooms, bacon and Swiss cheese?”

      “I hear disapproval in your tone. Don’t knock it until you’ve tried it.”

      He was studying the choices and a sort of tender look came over him. “Liam—my son—would like this place.”

      “You’re looking at the Baby Bear combo.” When he nodded she said, “You miss him, don’t you?”

      “Yeah.” There was an expression in his eyes that said he didn’t want to elaborate. “I think I’ll have the Papa Bear combo.”

      When they closed their menus it was a sign to Michelle and she was back to take their orders. “I’ll have these out in a few minutes.”

      After the diner owner was gone, Burke rested his forearms on the edge of the table and met her gaze. “So what questions do you think your father will ask?”

      “For starters he’ll want to know where and how we met. Just so you know, he won’t go for an online dating service.”

      “Oh?”

      Syd settled the paper napkin over her knees then straightened the knife, fork and spoon that had been wrapped up inside it. “He’s an old-fashioned guy and doesn’t believe ‘the machines,’ as he calls them, should be a part of meeting your soul mate.”

      “Okay. So it has to be a plausible face-to-face encounter.” He linked his fingers. “Where do you hang out that our paths could have crossed?”

      “Bar None, the bar where locals go. Potter’s Ice Cream Parlor and The Harvest Café. Here at the diner. But word would have gotten out if we even talked for five minutes under the watchful eye of Michelle Crawford.”

      She looked around the diner, with its pictures of grizzly bears on the walls. At the front of the place there was a counter lined with swivel stools. The back half had scattered tables in the center of the room and booths lining the perimeter.

      “Okay. Any ideas?” he asked.

      “There’s a multiscreen movie theater at the mall about forty-five minutes away.”

      “I’ve been there,” he said.

      “Do you like movies?”

      “Yes. Besides that it’s something a person can do alone and not get pity stares.”

      “Oh?”

      He nodded. “I’ve noticed that when you eat by yourself people give you weird looks.”

      She realized that he was lonely and it took considerable effort to keep pity out of the look she gave him. It was her sense that he wouldn’t appreciate the sentiment.

      “So, Mr. Gazillionaire Real-Estate Developer, is the crown too tight? Are the jewels too heavy?”

      One corner of his mouth curved up. “I’m not sure what that means.”

      “Just that you have buckets of money, expensive clothes, a car that most people drool over and you’re concerned about the way people look at you?”

      He shifted on the seat. “When you put it like that...the correct response would be no.”

      “That’s what I thought.” The glint was back in his eyes and she much preferred that. “So we could have met at the movies.”

      “Is that plausible for you?”

      “I go alone all the time. It’s relaxing after a marathon shopping spree. For the record no one pities a solo shopper.”

      “Good to know.” He nodded. “I’m guessing we’ll need to explore


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