leaned forward. “We could have hired someone.”
“You did,” Mandy reminded her. “Three months ago and it still wasn’t done. I kept bugging them, but the contractor always seemed to have another job that was more urgent.”
“You’re amazing, Mandy. I can’t understand why you aren’t married.”
“I’ve already done the marriage route, and it isn’t for me.” Mandy shuddered inside. It wasn’t because her divorce had been ugly, or because the year she’d spent with Vince had been so awful; but he’d expected her to change. Her entire childhood had been about people pushing her to be something she wasn’t, and after a year with a husband doing the same thing, she’d rebelled.
“Nonsense,” Dorothy scolded. “Just because it didn’t work the first time doesn’t mean you should give up on it.”
“Right,” Jane agreed. “Say, is the new city manager single?”
“I’m sure there’s something against this kind of thing in the bylaws. It’s a form of harassment,” Mandy complained, intending to keep the conversation lighthearted—she certainly didn’t want it taken seriously.
At the other end of the table, Dorothy looked toward the door and her mouth dropped open, almost with an expression of alarm. “Uh, ladies...”
“You could do worse,” Lou Ella said, not seeming to hear. “I’ve seen a picture of Daniel Whittier. He’s quite good-looking.”
“Oh, my, yes.” Jane pretended to fan herself.
A male voice suddenly broke through the chatter. “Excuse me.”
Mandy looked up and swallowed. An outrageously handsome man gazed at her. Dark wavy hair, blue eyes so intense they practically drilled into you...wow. She didn’t see guys like this every day, or every year for that matter, and she noted a couple of the ladies began straightening up, poking at their hair and smoothing their clothing. This was a guy who awakened feminine instincts in both young and old. It was pricking at her as well, but she resisted.
“Can I help you?” Mandy asked.
“I’m Daniel Whittier. I was told the director for the Senior Center has the keys to my house. Can you point me in the right direction? I went to the director’s office, but no one was there.”
“That’s because I was in the kitchen,” Mandy said.
“Have a cuppa tea and a pastry, luv,” Lou Ella urged. She’d come from England as a young bride, and her British accent became stronger when she was flustered. “We’ve plenty, and you can relax after your trip.”
“That’s kind of you,” he said, politely inclining his head. “But I should get my car unloaded. And I need to see my office to drop off a box of professional files.”
Mandy set her cup on the table and jumped out of her chair. “Uh, sure, but about your office, I—”
“You’re the director?”
“Last time I checked. I’m Mandy Colson. I’ve been here only a few months myself.”
“Then thank you.”
What a way to get introduced to the new city manager, with the group gossiping about him. Mr. Whittier must have heard them, at least that last part about him being so good-looking. Dorothy’s reaction had proved that much.
Mandy ran a hand through her hair. Not that she had contributed anything inappropriate to the conversation; she was scatterbrained, but not that scatterbrained. It was her sense of humor that landed her in trouble more than her impulsiveness. Well, that wasn’t entirely true. Being impulsive got her into messes, too.
“I’ll get them right now,” Mandy said, anxious to get away from the gazes of the women. She didn’t want them to realize she found Daniel Whittier attractive. It was strange. He wasn’t that much better looking than Bill Rollins in Phoenix, but Bill had never made her pulse skip.
Daniel followed after a brief hesitation. In the small rotunda at the center of City Hall, Mandy stopped and gestured. Two hallways branched off it, with double doors at the end of each. She pointed to a marble staircase.
“Isn’t that the most amazing banister?” Mandy said. “Makes you want to be five years old and slide down it a few dozen times.”
Daniel was staring at her with an unreadable expression that made her even more uncomfortable.
“Oh?” was all he said.
“Yeah. I confess I even tried it one evening.”
His face closed up even more. Mandy wished she hadn’t said anything, but when she was uncomfortable, it was hard not to say whatever came into her head.
“The section behind us is dedicated to the Senior Center,” Mandy explained, trying to return to rationality. Daniel Whittier had been hired after interviewing on Skype, so he hadn’t seen City Hall. “You already know about my office. Yours is farther down the north hallway, past mine. Most of the other administrative offices are upstairs.”
He glanced around—probably orienting himself—with the same inscrutable expression on his face. “I suppose I expected the city manager’s place of business to be more toward the front, or adjacent to the other administrative personnel.”
“Don’t worry. Your office is nice, although not right at the mo—”
“I’m sure it’s fine.”
She mentally groaned as they walked through the door that already bore his name, neatly painted on the frosted glass. A group had been assembling a cookbook in there, and the job was only half done—pages were spread over every free surface. Since the city manager’s office was the only unused space in the building, the mayor had suggested using it as a work area.
“Sorry about the clutter,” she said. “That’s what I was trying to tell you about. The scholarship board decided to raise money by selling a cookbook, and they would have finished yesterday, but they had to stop because a guy ran into a cow and then skidded into the power lines. The cow is okay, they think, but we lost electricity until it was too late to finish collating. It was one of those foggy days they sometimes get here, so it was awful gloomy in here without lights. They’ll have it out of your way this afternoon. They wouldn’t have used this room if they’d known...I mean, we didn’t think you were arriving until tomorrow. And there’s other cleanup that’s planned.”
He stared as if he thought she was nuts, but she’d simply repeated what the volunteer firemen had told her. Not that it had been necessary to provide all the details. What was the matter with her, anyway? Was her tongue wagging out of control because he was the best-looking thing on two legs she’d met in years? She ought to have more sense. Or maybe the problem was his stiff, buttoned-down style—it reminded Mandy of her parents.
“I talked with the mayor’s administrative assistant and told her I was coming today and would start work in the morning.”
Mandy grimaced. “Yikes, we just heard you’d be here tomorrow. The welcome committee assumed that was when you were
