Baby, Don't Go

by Stephanie Bond

“That’s right. She’s housebroken and named in honor of their mass matchmaking experiment.”

  “And has the matchmaking been successful?”

  “I’m still trying to get my hands around it. I need to talk to more women who came here from Broadway. With the living arrangements the way they are, it’s hard to tell how many couples there actually are.”

  “Do you get the sense that it’s some kind of religious cult?”

  “Not that I can tell. They don’t even have a church. But I’m going to a worship service in the morning. Maybe I’ll learn something there.”

  “Your boss didn’t really throw out his back when you asked him if he liked women?”

  “Yes.” But she felt obligated to add, “He aggravated an earlier injury…that I might’ve caused.”

  “Did it have anything to do with a fire?” Nina asked dryly.

  “It didn’t even set off the smoke alarm,” Alicia said in her own defense. “He overreacted.”

  “Uh-huh. And this thing about wheeling your boss to the clinic in a chair—is that true?”

  “Nina, I told you—I can’t make up this stuff.”

  Her boss laughed. “How is your boss man?”

  “Miffed, the last time I saw him. I hope I have a job when I go in on Monday.”

  “So you get tomorrow off?”

  “Almost everything here is closed on Sunday.”

  “Right…you are in the Bible belt. What are you going to do all day?”

  “I don’t know what to expect. The entertainment around here is a little…unvaried, but I’d like to get some exercise.” She glanced at her watch. “I have to run, Nina. I was invited to join a few women for dinner. I’m hoping to widen my circle of acquaintances.”

  “Okay. Keep the entries coming. I’ll be feeding your blogs to the syndication group to see if they like the direction of the piece.”

  Alicia frowned. “But they won’t publish them now, right?”

  “No, they don’t want to blow your undercover status. This is just to whet their appetite.”

  “Okay. I’ll try to send you an entry every evening starting tomorrow.”

  She disconnected the call, then surveyed her outfit in a mirror. Her mother’s pink cotton dress was a little sweet for her tastes, but it would have to do. For makeup she used loose powder in an effort to combat the seemingly constant shine on her face since she’d arrived, plus mascara and lip gloss. She’d decided to leave her hair down.

  She tucked a small notebook into her purse, along with her mini tape recorder. She didn’t intend to use them during dinner, but she might be able to slip away to a restroom if she needed privacy to make a few notes.

  As she descended the stairs to the first floor, Alicia thought back to the previous Saturday when she and friends had taken in a multi-course dinner at a four-star restaurant at the chef’s table.

  “What a difference a week makes,” she murmured to herself as she made her way to the great room that was crowded with people and raucous with noise. Children ran between tables. Country music played in the background. She glanced around the room that during the day doubled as a media center, and saw Nikki’s hand go up to wave her over.

  Alicia smiled as she approached, but faltered when she reached the table. Marcus Armstrong sat there with his two brothers, Nikki and another woman, and a teenage boy. Marcus didn’t look pleased to see her. Was she crashing some sort of family gathering?

  “Alicia, it’s good to see you,” Nikki said, then introduced her to Amy Bradshaw and her son, Tony, who bore an unmistakable likeness to Kendall Armstrong. Tony, she learned, was one of the busboys starting Monday at the diner. Porter and Kendall said hello, but their older brother maintained a stony silence.

  “Have a seat,” Amy urged.

  The only empty seat was, coincidentally, next to Marcus’s chair. Alicia slid into it, feeling self-conscious and a little annoyed. She’d been hoping to talk to Nikki and perhaps some other women about their experience in Sweetness. But it would be hard to ask a lot of questions under Marcus’s watchful blue-eyed gaze.

  11

  Marcus was more than a little annoyed. He’d accepted Nikki’s invitation to join his brothers, their girlfriends and his nephew for dinner partially out of appreciation to her for the treatment to his back.

  If he’d known Alicia Waters was going to be a guest, too, he would’ve bowed out.

  He sent Porter a glare, but Porter just lifted his shoulders in an almost imperceptible shrug to say he wasn’t responsible. Nikki looked wide-eyed and innocent, but he knew better. Alicia had seemed as surprised to see him as he was to see her, but he wouldn’t put it past the woman to jockey for an invitation—after all, she’d as good as admitted that she’d come to Sweetness because of all the single men. And she’d chatted up every guy who’d come into the diner this morning.

  Before she set the place on fire…and wrecked his back…and his concentration.

  “Hi,” Alicia offered.

  “Hello.” He picked up his water glass for a drink.

  “How’s your back?”

  “Better.”

  “Good.”

  She touched her bare wrist absently, and it made him think of the bracelet she was missing, the one he still hadn’t returned. Yet another complication…

  Nikki grinned at Alicia across the table. “You win the prize for the most creative method of patient transportation.”

  Everyone around the table laughed. A hot flush traveled up Marcus’s neck.

  “The picture Porter sent is priceless,” Kendall said to him. “I just wish I could’ve seen the whole thing, you barreling through town in a rolling desk chair.”

  “You can,” Tony piped up. “A couple of kids caught it all on their cell phones and uploaded the video to the internet.”

  Marcus set his jaw. Perfect.

  Another round of guffaws sounded. Porter wiped his eyes. “Alicia, I don’t know what you did to talk my uptight brother into doing something so wild, but kudos.”

  Next to him, Alicia squirmed.

  “Glad I could provide comic relief for the evening,” Marcus said, deadpan.

  “Oh, we’re going to milk this for years,” Porter promised.

  “You don’t know how long we’ve been waiting to have something on our older brother,” Kendall told Alicia. “Thank you.”

  “The important thing is that Marcus is feeling better,” Alicia responded, obviously trying to divert attention away from the incident. He felt a tiny blip of gratitude for the solidarity.

  “A syringe of cortisone did the trick,” Nikki said. “But he should take it easy.”

  “I’ll keep an eye on him,” Alicia said, sliding a smile in his direction.

  Marcus frowned—when did she become his keeper?

  “Let’s eat!” Tony exclaimed. “Dad, can I say grace?”

  Kendall nodded.

  “Everyone, hold hands,” Tony blurted.

  Marcus was happy to see his transplanted nephew was thriving in Sweetness. Having had only his mother for most of his life, he was more enthusiastic about family dinners than most kids his age. And Marcus had bowed his head plenty of times—growing up and on the battlefield and a few times since. But the hand-holding…

  Amy sat on the other side of him and took his hand. He reluctantly offered his other hand, palm up, to Alicia. She seemed confused by the ritual, slow to put her hand in Porter’s, who sat on the other side of her, slower still to take Marcus’s proffered hand. A pang struck his chest. Saying grace at family dinners must not have been part of her upbringing.

  He tried to concentrate on Tony’s heartfelt prayer, but the exquisite texture of Alicia’s fingers distracted him. Again he mused that she seemed out of place working in a diner. She seemed more…genteel. Her skin was as soft as silk, as warm as butter…

  Marcus opened his eyes before his mind wandered too far afield of the prayer, and chanced a glance in her direction. Her head was bowed and her eyes were closed,
her rosy lips parted slightly. He preferred her dark hair loose over those silly pigtails. Her lashes were long and curly on her pink cheeks that mimicked the color in her dress…again, too cutesy for his taste, but becoming nonetheless.

  Under the table, someone kicked him. He glanced up to see Kendall staring at him pointedly. Busted, scrutinizing Alicia.

  “Amen,” Tony pronounced.

  “Amen,” everyone chorused.

  Marcus dropped Alicia’s hand and reached for his water glass. He’d much rather have a beer right now—or something stronger—but Nikki had warned him against mixing alcohol with the painkillers she’d prescribed. His best recourse at this point was to eat quickly, then beg off on the pretense of resting his back. He took the salad bowl from Amy, used tongs to remove a helping, then passed the bowl to Alicia. She seemed to be trying to follow all the conversations going on around her, and deal with the bread basket, salad dressing, salt and pepper shakers, and other items passed around. He noticed she was finicky, scrutinizing things before passing more often than not.

  With a start he realized he’d never seen her eat anything at the diner other than yogurt or a piece of fruit. When Kendall handed her a glass of red table wine, she thanked him, but after a sniff, relegated the untasted wine next to her plate where it remained.

  Marcus pursed his mouth. Alicia Waters was a bit of a snob.

  He studied her, paying attention to detail. Her hair was ultra contemporary and recently cut. Her nails were long and elegantly manicured. Her body was trim and toned from regular exercise, yet she wasn’t tanned or athletic, which probably meant she belonged to a gym. Her manners were fastidious, down to the way she held her fork. Everything about her was elegant and precise…except her clothing. And while it looked great on her curvy body, for some reason, she seemed uncomfortable in her wardrobe, constantly pulling and adjusting.

  Not to knock any of the other women who’d come to Sweetness, but Alicia seemed…different…as if she were accustomed to more refined surroundings.

  Although that image didn’t exactly mesh with the woman who’d stopped to bathe in the creek…?.

  Kendall stepped behind Marcus’s chair and leaned down to refill his water glass from a pitcher.

  “You’re staring again,” Kendall murmured for his ears only.

  Marcus frowned up at Kendall. “It’s not what you think,” he said, under his breath.

  “Brother, I think it’s exactly what I think.”

  Kendall moved on, filling Alicia’s water glass before continuing around the table.

  Marcus stabbed at his salad, now in a hurry to get out of there. The last thing he needed was for his brothers and their women to believe he was interested in Alicia Waters. He concentrated on the food—after the salad came a pan of lasagna that Nikki admitted was store-bought but tasted good to him—and let everyone else carry the conversation. Alicia asked Nikki and Amy how they had come to live in Sweetness and the women gave her, thankfully, the shortened versions.

  Dr. Nikki Salinger was one of the original women from Broadway who’d answered the ad that Kendall had placed in the newspaper of the Michigan town that had been hit so hard by the downturn in the economy. She’d left a sliding family practice there (and a cheating fiancé, Porter added) to come to Sweetness and start her own practice at the clinic.

  Amy Bradshaw had grown up in Sweetness. She and Kendall were high school sweethearts, but had gone their separate ways when Kendall joined the Air Force. Six months ago, Amy, a structural engineer, had accepted Marcus’s offer to return to Sweetness to rebuild the Evermore Covered Bridge over Timber Creek that had been blown away by the twister. Only Marcus had known that Amy was secretly raising Kendall’s son, Tony. As he’d hoped, though, Amy and Kendall had reconciled and now Tony had both of his parents.

  When Amy gave Marcus the credit for bringing them together, he held up his hand. “Don’t blame me, Amy.”

  The remark elicited laughs and deflected attention back to general conversation. Alicia seemed to have a lot of questions about the segregated living arrangements…and if any of the women from Broadway had found the man of their dreams among the workers.

  Marcus rolled his eyes. Chick talk.

  He idly glanced around the great room, looking for familiar faces. He prided himself on knowing the people who lived and worked in the town.

  Across the room, Rachel Hutchins was having dinner with Dr. Devine, the scientist for whom they’d built a laboratory on a large plot of kudzu so the man could study the invasive vine. At a nearby table, Dr. Jay Cross sat alone with his laptop, apparently taking advantage of the wireless connection that was stronger here. Then he noticed the man seemed less interested in what was on his computer screen than what was going on between the attractive, blond couple. Marcus recalled his brothers’ remarks that Cross was smitten with the beautiful Rachel.

  He shook his head for the prim little man—it was a lost cause. He wanted to pull Dr. Cross aside and tell him it was for the best. His life would be infinitely simpler without a woman.

  “Isn’t that right, Marcus?” Porter said.

  He jerked his attention back to the conversation at the table. “Sorry—say again?”

  “Alicia asked if the town could withstand another tornado like the F-5. I said I believe so.”

  Marcus nodded, then looked at Alicia and almost lost his train of thought in her cavernous eyes. He averted his gaze and wiped his mouth with his napkin. “Modular construction is actually stronger than traditional building techniques, plus we further reinforce the buildings with steel as they’re being erected on-site.”

  “And every building, including this one, is built on a basement,” Kendall added.

  Alicia looked impressed. “It sounds as if you built your town to withstand just about anything.” Marcus stopped—your town? Something in her tone seemed…off, as if she were mocking them.

  “The town doesn’t belong to the Armstrongs,” he corrected. “The city limits are incorporated. Everyone who lives and works here will share ownership of the town’s manufacturing and retail businesses.”

  “If you pass your final inspection,” she added.

  He shifted in his seat—his back was starting to ache, probably because this woman’s mere presence made him tense up. “Right. But the town will pass inspection. Everything is on schedule.”

  “And your family stands to gain financially when that happens?” Then she gave a dismissive wave. “Never mind…I didn’t mean to pry.”

  “No, it’s a fair question.” He realized it was difficult for others to believe that he and his brothers weren’t in line for some kind of windfall if the town succeeded. “The Armstrongs will benefit only in the respect that our family will have land here and hopefully will be able to make a living here.”

  Alicia’s expression turned wistful. “That sounds very wholesome and…nice.”

  Marcus bit down on his cheek—how did she do that? Make him go from suspicious to defensive to remorseful in the space of a few seconds?

  He looked away to escape those bottomless eyes and spotted Rachel Hutchins walking up to the table. Vivacious and statuesque, she often floated from table to table in the evenings to schmooze. Rachel had made no secret of the fact that she planned to have a hand in running the town once ownership was handed over to the residents.

  “Hello, all,” she sang.

  Everyone chorused hello.

  “Marcus,” she said sweetly, “can I get you a chair?”

  He smirked while everyone else laughed uproariously. “Nice,” he said dryly, then tossed his napkin in his plate.

  Rachel grinned. “Sorry—I couldn’t resist. And I’m still waiting for that Homecoming banner to be hung across Main Street.”

  He nodded. “It’s on my list for next week.”

  “Rachel,” Nikki said, “have you met Alicia Waters? Alicia is managing the diner. Alicia, this is Rachel Hutchins.”

  “Nice to meet you, Alicia,” Rachel said. �
�I can’t tell you how happy I am that the diner is under new management.”

  Alicia smiled. “Nice to meet you, too.”

  Rachel angled her head. “Have we met before? You seem familiar to me.”

  Alicia shook her head. “I don’t think so.”

  “You were in the diner the day Alicia came in,” Porter offered.

  Rachel bit her lip. “I guess that’s it.”

  Alicia smiled, then glanced around the table. “Excuse me. Is there a ladies’ room close by?”

  Nikki gave her directions and Alicia left the table. Marcus had to drag his gaze from her back to Rachel.

  “I’m so excited that Emory and Shelby Maxwell want to renew their vows in our church Homecoming weekend,” the blonde said. “I have ideas for getting the whole town involved!”

  At the mention of the church, he noticed Porter was looking everywhere but at Nikki. Marcus wiped away a smile and thought this would be a good time to leave—while Alicia was gone.

  “Excuse me, but it’s time I called it a night,” he said, standing. He thanked Nikki for dinner, then picked up his plate.

  “Leave it,” Nikki said, waving him off. “Go rest your back.”

  “Actually, I was thinking of heading out, too,” Porter said.

  “You, stay,” Nikki said, her tone deceptively sweet as she placed a restraining hand on his arm.

  Marcus shot his brother a sympathetic glance, then said goodbyes all around and left while the leaving was good. From the dining room, he walked down the hallway and through the dimly lit front great room that was more of a sitting room and was usually empty. Which was why he was surprised to see Alicia standing near the stone fireplace hearth. She was speaking into a device, her voice low. When she heard his footsteps, she looked around and startled.

  “Marcus…hi.” She pushed the gadget into her purse.

  “The ladies’ restroom is in the other direction.”

  “Right,” she said, then smiled. “I had to make a phone call.”

  But she seemed nervous. “Nothing serious, I hope?”

  “No,” she said with a laugh. “I promised my mother I’d call. You know how mothers are.”

  He nodded. “That I do. I didn’t mean to interrupt.”