by Nancy Martin
She nodded. “It took years to build the audience, but it was a modest success from the start.”
“Thanks to your personality, I think.”
Susannah laughed. “Are you kidding?”
“No, I’m not. You come across as very warm on television—genuine. You’re a small-town girl who’s made it big, but you haven’t forgotten what it’s like to share recipes with your neighbors or make do with homemade things instead of running off to the nearest store to buy something.”
She cocked her head. “That’s very perceptive of you. I try to think of my viewers as my friends and neighbors. It’s the only way I can make it all work.”
That was interesting. Joe asked, “What do you mean?”
She concentrated on her hamburger again, clearly thinking about what she had said. “I have never put it into words,” she answered at last, “but the whole television milieu feels false. I have to be perky to a camera instead of a real person, and sometimes it’s...well, I have trouble keeping my energy up. But when I think of all the people who are out there watching...” She smiled shyly. “Oh, it’s silly.”
“No, it’s not.”
“I remind myself that my viewers are my closest friends, that’s all.”
Joe considered what Susannah said, and his thoughts must have shown on his face, because she asked, “What’s the matter?”
He shook his head. “Oh, I was just thinking how sad that sounds. As if you don’t have many real friends.”
“I do,” she countered at once, but she didn’t sound convincing. Darting a look at Joe she amended, “Well, I have few close friends, but I’m very busy, you see. My job keeps me extremely busy.”
“So you said before.”
“I’m fine, really,” she insisted, having heard the dry edge in his voice. “My secretary, Josie, is an invaluable help, and I muddle along pretty well. I wouldn’t have my life any other way.”
“What you mean,” Joe said slowly, “is that you can’t figure out any other way to have it.”
Susannah stared at him for a few seconds, and during that time, he began to believe he’d overstepped his rights. But she looked away and picked at her hamburger again. “Maybe you’re right,” she said softly. “I’m on a treadmill.”
“And you can’t get off?”
She shrugged. “I’m not completely sure I should get off. What if I stop working and my life doesn’t get any better?”
“Maybe you should consider slowing down a little, instead of quitting.”
“I can’t,” Susannah objected. “If I don’t give one hundred percent, the show will fail. I can’t let everybody down.”
“You’re responsible for everyone else?”
“Yes, in a way. A lot of people have jobs because of me. If I stop making the ‘Oh, Susannah!’ shows, they’ll be out of work. I can’t do that to the people I’ve come to think of as my family. Why, my cameraman would be fired if I quit, and Josie might never get her shot at the big time.”
“Doesn’t it seem strange for a woman like yourself to have a cameraman of her own instead of a child?”
Susannah’s expression hardened. “I’d make a terrible mother.”
“I doubt that.”
“You do?” Sarcasm dripped from her words. “Well, I’m sure you’re right, Mr. Santori. You know me so well, after all.”
“I know you well enough,” Joe replied, unruffled by her anger. “You’re smart and caring and—”
“You know nothing about me!”
“I know—”
“You’re getting bossy again,” she said sharply. “You can ask me to come look after my grandmother and you can force her to fix up her house, perhaps, but you can’t step into my life and know what’s good for me.”
“You’re telling me to mind my own business?”
“Yes.”
“All right,” Joe said, without heat, “but before I shut up, I have one more comment, okay?”
“Just one?” she asked archly.
“Yep.” He leaned forward, elbows on the table. “This is it—why don’t you take a leave of absence for a while and try something else? College professors take sabbaticals, don’t they? Hell, even carpenters take a little time off now and then. Just take a break for a bit and look around you. Look for something you’d rather do with your life.”
“Are you always so full of advice?” she asked. “Or do I bring out that quality in you?”
Joe grinned, sure in his heart that she wasn’t furious with him. “I’m always full of advice. But you seem to need it more than most people.”
Susannah laughed abruptly. “Maybe you’re right. I need a keeper most of the time.”
“A keeper?”
“Somebody to keep me on track. Usually it’s my secretary. Sometimes it’s Granny Rose. Sometimes I long to be more independent, but I’d be a disaster on my own.”
“I have a hard time working for somebody besides myself.”
She smiled into his eyes. “Because you’d always have a better way of doing things, right?”
He laughed, too. “Exactly right!”
“I know what you mean. Once in a while I think I’d like to be my own person. On television, I have to conform to the station’s standards and ideas in everything I do. I am constantly edited, and sometimes it really goes against my grain.”
“I can understand that.”
She eyed him thoughtfully. “I think you do. But I’ve also come to realize that I need more structure than most people. That’s why I’d be a disaster as an author, for example.”
“Would you like to be an author?”
“Sure, who wouldn’t? And I’ve got some good ideas for books—books that would spring from my television show. Like Martha Stewart or Heloise. But I’d never cope with the deadlines.”
“You never know until you try.”
Nodding emphatically, she said, “Yes, I know my own work habits. They’re atrocious. I can’t keep a schedule. I get too caught up in the details and miss the big picture. That’s why I need a producer and a secretary. But I have good ideas and I can implement them as long as I have the support staff. I’d like to expand my horizons, try new things, get a second chance at...well, at some things I’ve missed out on. But I’d need a lot of help.”
“So hire some people. Write your book, if that’s what you want.”
Her eyes sparkled when she smiled. “If I thought I could make a living by writing, that would be ideal. Maybe I’d have time to look around a little, to enjoy life more.”
“And you’d be great at selling books, too. I’m sure you’d be a hit on all the national talk shows.”
“I can plug as well as anybody,” she said with a hint of pride.
“You could do a series of books.”
“Why not? Weddings and holidays, crafts to do at home, maybe a book on activities for children.”
Joe enjoyed the animation in her face as Susannah let her imagination begin to roll. She looked prettier than ever, and full of optimism.
“My first book would have to be terrific, wouldn’t it? To make a big enough splash.”
“I’ll bet you come up with something,” he predicted, feeling absurdly glad that she had come to the conclusion that writing a book wasn’t in the realm of total fantasy. Susannah looked happy as they sat at the table and finished their meal.
But then she glanced at her watch and reacted with surprise at the time. “Goodness, it’s late!”
Joe checked his watch, too, and hastily agreed to depart. A pang of guilt caught him off guard. He hadn’t planned to keep her lingering over the meal, but they had allowed the conversation to carry them along. Joe paid the dinner check at the cash register and took Susannah’s arm to leave. It felt natural to touch her, he noted. It felt very good, in fact.
As Joe handed her into his truck again, Susannah found herself feeling strangely at ease with him.
This is a man I could really fall for, she said to herself, watching as he
waved goodbye to the waitress through the window of Marge’s Diner. He’s sweet and considerate and funny and—oh, damn, he’s taken. I hope Angelica knows how good she’s got it.
Reminding herself of Joe’s existing relationship, Susannah allowed herself to be drawn into only superficial conversation as he drove her back to her grandmother’s house. He appeared not to notice her change of heart and again talked idly about the repairs he intended to make to the old house. He was back on a safe subject, Susannah noticed.
Maybe he felt the possibilities, too, she thought. Perhaps Joe had felt comfortable with her all evening and had enjoyed himself as much as she had enjoyed being with him. Also reminded of his commitment to Angelica, he had backed off.
Nice guy.
Susannah didn’t wait for him to get out of the truck and open her door. When he appeared at her side of the vehicle, she was already standing on the pavement, shivering slightly.
“Thanks for a very nice evening,” she said, holding her ground and determined not to allow him to see her to the door of the house. “I enjoyed myself very much.”
He took her arm without ceremony and guided her up the sidewalk. “My pleasure. I always jump at the chance to introduce someone to the joys of opera.”
“And the hamburgers were wonderful. I’d forgotten how good they are at Marge’s.”
He gave her a grin. “You’re a woman of mixed tastes, Miss Suzie. I like that.”
Their gazes met, and Susannah stumbled on the sidewalk. Joe steadied her instinctively, turning her body so that they stood face-to-face at the bottom of the porch steps. His hands were firm on her arms.
“You’re shivering, Miss Suzie.”
His voice would have warmed the bones of any woman alive, but Susannah couldn’t seem to control the trembling of her limbs. “It’s a cold night.”
With one hand, he pulled the scarf from around his own neck and draped it loosely around Susannah’s shoulders. His long fingers brushed through her hair for an instant.
“Better?”
“I should...I’ll just go inside. I’ll be warm in a few moments.”
“I can think of a faster way.”
Susannah wasn’t sure how it happened. One minute she was a perfectly sensible woman standing at the bottom of her grandmother’s porch steps, and the next minute she could hardly breathe for the tautness in her chest, the pounding pressure building in her throat, the dizzy sensation in her head as Joe bent closer.
“Joe...”
He brushed his lips along her hairline—so gently that Susannah went weak in the knees. “Yes, Miss Suzie?”
“Joe,” she said again, then found she couldn’t say anything more.
He murmured her name again and lowered his head until their lips were a scant inch apart. Susannah sensed his smile—a very sexy smile—and she couldn’t resist. In another heartbeat, her fingers crept up his chest. That touch communicated her willingness, and Joe gave a low laugh. Susannah tilted her face up to his and found the velvety warmth of his gaze on hers. She let out a shaky sigh, then closed her eyes. An instant later, their mouths met in a soft, warm kiss.
Susannah’s mind seemed to fill with a wonderful, sensual fog. She clung to his tall frame, taking pleasure in the strength of his arms and the powerful muscle that tightened beneath her caress. Joe’s body felt alive and manly, and his kiss communicated a kind of hunger that was very exciting.
As if some other woman had suddenly come alive inside her, Susannah found herself kissing Joe back with all her heart. She reveled in the sensations evoked by the press of his belly against her own. The powerful hardness of his thighs radiated through their clothing, and Susannah savored their contour. Was there a sexier man on earth? She doubted it.
But what about Angelica?
Her inner voice interrupted with a mental shout that made Susannah jerk in Joe’s embrace. The kiss ended abruptly, and Susannah’s heart began to pound anew.
Yes, what about Angelica? She wanted to ask him then and there.
But she didn’t. She pushed her way out of Joe’s yielding embrace and tottered up the steps. Although afraid to look back, Susannah knew Joe was watching her.
“Sweet dreams, Miss Suzie.”
That voice. So rich and vibrant. He could turn a woman’s bones to butter with it. Hastily, Susannah let herself into the house, hoping she’d heard the last of that voice for one night.
But, of course, she’d probably dream about it all night long.
* * *
TUCKED IN HER BED upstairs, Rose heard the front door close quietly and quickly reached across her nightstand to snap off the light.
But Susannah appeared at her door a few minutes later and tapped lightly. She whispered, “I saw your light, Granny Rose. I know you’re still awake.”
Rose flipped on her light again and sat up in bed. “I wasn’t waiting up for you, Suzie. Honestly, I wasn’t.”
Susannah stepped into the room, smiling. “How are you feeling?”
“Fine,” Rose said at once. “I dozed for a while, but woke up again and decided I might as well sleep in my bed as on the parlor sofa. So I came up here and put on my nightgown, but suddenly I’m wide awake.”
Susannah looked at her askance. “And you couldn’t wait to hear how our evening went, could you?”
“Do you blame me? You two aren’t exactly kindred spirits.”
“Then why are you trying to get us together?” Susannah sat down on the edge of the bed, looking genuinely puzzled as well as amused. “I don’t understand, Granny Rose. We’re complete opposites.”
“But do you like him?”
“Well, yes, he’s very nice, I suppose—”
“And he likes you?”
“Yes, but that doesn’t make up for everything else, you know.” Susannah’s pretty brow puckered in a frown. “He’s...I’m...we’re... Oh, I don’t know how to say it without sounding like a snob. We’re just different, that’s all.”
But meant for each other, Rose wanted to say. But she kept quiet. She couldn’t explain her desire to see Susannah settled and happy. She couldn’t describe the sudden urge within herself, as if someone had started a clock ticking and there wasn’t much time left. Rose had always wanted everything for Susannah, and there seemed to be only one thing left for her talented granddaughter to achieve—a happy home and family to go along with the career and busy life.
Rose reached out for Susannah’s hand, remembering the many nights during her granddaughter’s teenage years that they had sat exactly this way—with Rose in bed and Susannah coming home from a date looking lovely and a little windblown. She asked, “Did you have a good time with Joe tonight?”
“Yes.”
“Care to tell me about it?”
Susannah made a fuss of smoothing the bedclothes and didn’t answer.
“Oh-ho,” said Rose when the silence stretched. “It was that good, was it?”
Susannah blushed. “It was fine. It wasn’t bad, I mean, but it...oh, I’m not sure how it was.” She gave a flustered sigh. “We saw a wonderful movie—an opera—and he explained things as it went along. He’s quite an expert—something I didn’t expect, I guess. We had a hamburger at Marge’s afterward, and we got along very well. He told me a lot about himself.”
“And?”
Susannah turned her head to avoid meeting her grandmother’s eyes. Her voice tightened. “What he didn’t tell me about was his girlfriend. Gina told me about her.”
That news struck Rose like a lightning bolt. For a moment, she was dazed. “What girlfriend?”
“A woman by the name of Angelica something. Gina said Joe has been seeing her for quite some time.” Judging by the way Susannah suddenly leaned forward and began rearranging the clutter on the nightstand, Rose guessed she wasn’t the least bit happy to have learned about Joe’s love life.
Rose frowned, thinking. “Angelica? There’s nobody in Tyler by that name.”
“No? Well, she must be from Belton or Bonnevi
lle then.”
“Could be.” Rose frowned. “Well, that changes things, doesn’t it?”
“Not really,” Susannah said curtly. She got up and began to pace the small bedroom. “I don’t really care. I don’t care whether or not Joe Santori is married to Elizabeth Taylor or Betty Boop.”
“Right. And the moon is made of green cheese.”
“Granny Rose!”
“Well, I’m not blind,” Rose protested. “Any fool can see the two of you are perfect for each other.”
Susannah threw up her hands. “He’s already got a steady friend—if Gina is to be believed, that is. Besides, I’m certainly in no position to start any kind of relationship.”
“Oh, stop sounding like a guest on a talk show. Be honest. Joe’s just what you need—steady and responsible, yet full of fun and very sexy, if you ask me. Don’t laugh! I know what I’m talking about. And you’re both consenting adults who’ve reached a certain level of maturity....”
Susannah started to laugh. “Is that a polite way of saying we’re both getting on?”
“You’re only as old as you feel. It’s a cliché that happens to be true. Do you feel old when you’re with Joe?”
“No,” she admitted. “But you can’t go around matchmaking for him, Granny Rose, because he’s not free. At least, that’s the way it sounds.”
Rose contemplated the situation and decided she needed more time to think. An unexpected wrinkle never stopped her for long, and Rose had come to the conclusion that she wanted to see her granddaughter spend more time with Joe Santori. A lot more time.
But she needed to think things through first.
“Well,” she said briskly, “let’s not settle this business tonight. You must be tired, and we’ve got a busy day ahead of us tomorrow.”
“All right, I’ll leave you alone.” Susannah headed for the door again, then turned back. “You’re truly feeling all right, Granny Rose? I felt very bad about leaving you alone tonight.”
“Nonsense, dear. I’m accustomed to being on my own. Sleep well.”
Susannah smiled, but Rose detected a hint of sadness in her eyes before she turned away and slipped out of the room. Perhaps, Rose guessed, Susannah had begun to recognize her need for a life outside the television studio. Joe Santori had given her a glimpse of what happiness could be.
