The Perfect Catch. Cassidy Carter
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Brett continued, mystified. “How did you do that?”
Wesley said nothing, and Jessica shot him a reproachful look. There was another knock on the door.
“We should head out. Mrs. Carver is here.” She patted Brett on the arm, and he gathered up his magic trick, still looking puzzled.
Jessica grabbed Wesley and kissed him, despite his mischievous smile—the same one he’d worn when trying to get her to dress in pumpkin spice for her evening.
Jessica whispered, “Be good, honey.” She mussed up his hair the way she knew bugged him.
They slid by Wesley’s babysitter as they left, and Jess made sure that Bonnie had Jess’s cell phone number, as well as Brett’s, just in case.
As they climbed into Brett’s car, Jess said quietly, “Look, it’s not personal. Wesley just sees himself as my protector.”
Brett didn’t respond, and they drove toward the community center in silence.
The mood thawed a bit on the way, and soon Brett was animatedly educating Jess on one of his favorite subjects—accident statistics. Jessica and Brett chatted as Brett led her into the community center, his hand on her back. A working dinner was underway.
“All I’m saying,” he said as they passed beneath a Spring Fling sign and into a crowd of other volunteers who were serving food, “is that eating while driving is one of the top three road hazards. When you’re an independent insurance broker, you get to know this stuff.”
“Wow, that’s so interesting.” Jessica hoped that her tone didn’t say otherwise. She found insurance statistics about as exciting as the overdue invoices from her vendors at the diner. She chastised herself to stop being so negative about Brett. What was up with her? There was no denying that Brett was a nice guy. Sure, she’d never felt that spark with him, but he wasn’t unpredictable, not the way that Wes’s father had been.
Brett continued. “I could tell you stories—a big rig driver in Vegas eating a meat loaf sandwich, a grandma popping peppermints in Duluth—stories that would curl your hair.”
She shoved him playfully as they headed inside. “I already curled my hair. Haven’t you noticed?”
At one side of the room, a craft station had been set up with paint and several piles of Spring Fling decorations and signs. Brett didn’t answer her. He frowned at the bustle of activity.
Jessica said, “Sorry, I know it’s date night. But this makes us even for that insurance convention.”
Brett said, “At least we had a Hawaiian theme.” But his voice was good-natured. He was always good-natured. Jess liked that about him.
Jessica admitted, “True. You’ve got me there.”
Brett surveyed the gathering. “I’ve sold insurance to half the folks here.” He craned his neck to take a better survey of the room’s occupants, pointing surreptitiously to a man nearby. “You don’t want to know about that guy’s preexisting conditions.”
Jessica, laughing, said, “Well, thanks for being here. I couldn’t miss this. I’m heading up the Spring Fling auction next week, and we’re way behind.”
Brett shook his head. “Jessica, you’re stretched too thin already. Why not let someone else do it?”
“Well, since no one else stepped up, I guess I’ll have to stretch even thinner,” Jessica answered.
Brett, who seemed to already be forgetting that he’d asked her something, waved at a couple of people dressed in business attire who were huddled in conversation across the room.
“I should say hi to some folks,” he said to Jess. “Spring’s prime time to up coverage before tornado and cicada season hits.”
Jessica said, “Network away.” She couldn’t help but feel a pang of disappointment as he eagerly left her side. So much for date night. She hadn’t been thrilled that this was where they’d be passing their time for the evening, but she’d been looking forward to spending time with Brett.
She recalled another Spring Fling where she’d felt much more excited to plan, decorate, and participate. But that one had been so many years ago it was ancient history. Spring Fling Queen, she thought ruefully. Her Spring Fling King likely didn’t even remember her name.
She looked around, debating where she’d be the most help. She’d just decided to go and letter the signs for the game booths when a slick, familiar voice sounded from behind her.
“Well, hello, Jessica.”
Jessica turned and saw Charlie. She resisted the urge to hold her nose. His cologne usually announced his arrival before he stepped into a room. Her allergies must have been acting up because she’d not smelled him coming. With his slicked-back hair and dress shirt open at the collar, he appeared more like an old-school, scamming car salesman than a forty-something, successful restaurateur.
She forced a smile. “Good to see you, Charlie.”
“You, too, Jessica,” Charlie said. “How’s business?”
Like you don’t know. “Well, it was better before you opened up your new restaurant out by the highway.”
Just as smarmy and know-it-all as he always was anytime Jess ran across him, Charlie said, “I always thought Parker Falls needed another restaurant. Ya know, something new. Besides, a little friendly competition just helps everyone raise the bar a little.”
Jessica, knowing that her false smile was wavering, tried to extricate herself quickly from the conversation. The longer she stayed, the more likely Charlie was to become an insurance statistic.
“Thanks for the marketing lesson.” She began to turn away, but his next words stopped her.
“You could always relocate. Your folks moved to Florida, right? I hear it’s sunny there. And from what I hear at the bank, you missed the latest payment on your small-business loan?” Charlie’s grin wouldn’t have been out of place on a shark.
Jessica bristled. Leave it to Parker Falls to have a blabbermouth working at the bank who was family to the man she was in direct competition with. She made a mental note to go down to the local branch in the morning and speak to the management about discussing a customer’s personal information.
She snapped back at Charlie. “Tell your brother hi, and we’re doing just fine. My grandpa Wesley opened the diner forty years ago, and I’ve put my heart and soul into keeping it going. We’ve still got a few tricks up our sleeves.”
“Really? Do tell.”
“Taco Wednesday’s tomorrow. It’s gonna be huge.”
Charlie pursed his lips, his expression disbelieving. “Taco Wednesdays? Oooh. Oh-kay.” He shook his head and walked off.
At least I got rid of him. Her face burned with embarrassment.