by Ann Roth
Betsy pretended to turn a key over her lips. Claire and Lynn nodded solemnly, while Joelle and Noelle crossed their hearts.
About to clear the table, Rosy stopped. “Want me to come back in a minute?”
Fran shook her head. “You should hear this, too.”
The restaurant owner signaled the other waitresses to take care of her station, then eagerly sat down in the chair Cinnamon had deserted.
“I spoke with the mayor this morning,” Fran began, “and guess what? Tate agreed to the employee buyout. They’re going to offer Cinnamon a job as general manager of the factory.”
“Wahoo!” Rosy’s fist shot into the air, Lynn and Claire echoing the gesture.
“Fabulous,” Betsy agreed.
Joelle and Noelle smiled at each other in delight. “We would so love her to live here,” they agreed in unison.
“I don’t know if she’ll take the job,” Fran said. “What I do know is, she really likes Nick. Apparently he hasn’t shown much interest. If we want her to stay, we’ve got to change that.”
“What is he, blind?” Joelle said.
Betsy looked puzzled. “I saw how he looked at her at the town meeting last week. He’s interested, all right. I thought—I mean, she said she didn’t want him.”
“Well, she changed her mind,” Fran said. “Unfortunately, that hasn’t changed Nick’s behavior toward her. According to Cinnamon, he claims there are ‘things’ she doesn’t know about him.”
“Things?” Claire scratched her head.
“What things?” Rosy wondered. “Whatever they are, they can’t be so bad. Nick is one of the nicest people I know. He’s darn cute, too.” She chuckled. “If I were Cinnamon’s age, I’d be after him in a Cranberry second.”
“Amen, sister,” Claire agreed. Lynn nodded.
“Anyway,” Fran said, “whatever these ‘things’ are, they’ve stopped any romance from developing. But take heart. Sharon phoned me a few days ago to discuss this very thing. She says even though Nick doesn’t talk about Cinnamon, he definitely is attracted to and interested in her. Now—”
“Didn’t I just say the same thing?” Betsy said.
Noelle tsked. “Will you let Fran finish?”
Joelle gestured at Fran to continue.
“Problem is,” Fran went on, “Nick doesn’t seem to realize his feelings. Sharon says he needs a push or two. That’s where we come in. This morning I went shopping with Cinnamon for a dress and shoes for tomorrow night’s dance. Wait’ll you see the sexy things she bought. Her outfit should knock Nick’s socks totally off. But we need something more.”
The women were silent a moment, each pondering the situation.
“I know.” Joelle brightened. “We’ll ask the band to play lots of slow, romantic songs and make sure—”
“They dance together,” Noelle finished.
“Keep the lights dim,” Claire added. “That adds a romantic air to things.”
Rosy nodded. “And the band should make each song last a long time. I can picture Cinnamon and Nick now, dancing slow and holding each other close…” She let out a romantic sigh.
“Be still my heart,” Lynn murmured.
Everyone at the table nodded dreamily at the image.
“And don’t let anybody cut in when they’re dancing,” Claire said.
“Or make sure some other good-looking guy goes after Cinnamon,” Betsy said. “You know, to make Nick jealous.”
“And then let Mother Nature take over.” Noelle’s mouth quirked suggestively.
With a wink, her twin nodded. “That’s bound to work.”
Fran beamed. “I knew we’d come up with something.”
EVEN BEFORE CINNAMON reached the dining room for Saturday breakfast, she heard laughter and conversation from Fran’s guests. They sounded happy, but with Fran’s warmth and her good food, who wouldn’t be?
Cinnamon wasn’t as outgoing, but she was hungry. And besides, Fran expected her to eat with everyone. What Cinnamon badly wanted was to talk with her friend, whom she hadn’t seen since lunch yesterday, about the surprising turns in her life. Not just the unexpected offer from the factory, but a call from the consulting company in Boston, offering her a high-salaried job. Now she could buy something at the Love on Main Street art show without guilt.
“Good morning, sleepy head.” Fran beamed at Cinnamon. “This is Cinnamon Smith, the friend I’ve been telling you about,” she said to the seven couples filling the table. “She came in too late last night to meet you then, because she was being wined and dined by our mayor and his wife. I got that in a voice mail message.”
With barely a pause, Fran raised a brow at Cinnamon. “Since I had to get up at four to cook for you all, I haven’t heard how that went, but you’ll tell me later. Now for the introductions.” Fran gestured to one side of the table, which she’d extended with extra leafs. “Cinnamon, meet Mitch Matthews, who has come every year for four years, and his lady friend, Carin Nelson. Next to them, Mark and Megan Holmberg, Stephanie and Jared Shurtliff, and Kirk and Elise Workman. Across from them, Jim and Sue Robertson, who are celebrating their second Valentine’s Day in the Orca suite, Jess Martin and Tina Johnson, who were here over the Fourth of July, and Bo and Carol Farmer.” She blew out a breath. “Whew!”
Everyone laughed, Cinnamon included.
“Hi,” Cinnamon said, taking the only empty seat beside attractive, thirtyish Sue Roberston. She gestured at the gulls on the railing outside. “Did Fran tell you about Stubby and Stumpy?”
“First thing this morning,” Mitch replied. “Carin has flipped over them.”
His female companion nodded. “Mitch mentioned the gulls, but I didn’t realize how adorable they are.”
“Don’t I know that,” Fran said as she brought Cinnamon a steaming mug of coffee. “The second batch of rolls will be out of the oven shortly. Meantime, help yourself to quiche, ham and bacon.” Her eyes sparkled and she seemed to glow with happiness at the table filled with guests. “And of course, cranberry juice.”
“We heard about that, too, and dutifully drank the stuff,” Bo quipped, nodding at his empty glass.
While everyone ate and chatted, Cinnamon studied the couples around her. Maybe it was the soft classical music and cozy fire crackling in the great room, or the view, or Valentine’s Day weekend, but each pair seemed engrossed in each other. Even the Holmbergs, who looked to be in their sixties. Everyone made polite conversation, but the intimate looks couples exchanged and the way they leaned into each other left no doubt about what was on each of their minds. Love and making love.
Cinnamon dropped her gaze to her place. As the only woman at the table without a partner, she definitely stuck out. That didn’t mean she minded being alone. She didn’t need a man to be content. In a show of independence she popped a forkful of quiche into her mouth, straightened her shoulders and held her chin high.
Yet she felt hollow inside. Maybe she didn’t need a man, but she wanted one in particular. Nick Mahoney.
“Now that everyone is here, let me wish you a happy Valentine’s Day,” Fran said. “I hope you’re all planning to stroll around the Love on Main Street outdoor art show sometime today because some of our local artists are selling some great stuff there. And please, come to the dance tonight. Both events are fun. Also—” she winked “—we serve great food at the dance.”
Couples chuckled at that.
“We’ve gone to the art show and the dance twice now.” Jim and Sue Robertson smiled at each other and linked hands. “Fran’s right, both events are great. As a bonus, you get to meet some of the locals, which is interesting.”
Fran nodded. “Tonight we’re honoring Abby Mahoney, our star twelve-year-old, who won the Oregon State math bee in her age category. She lives right here in town.”
While the guests talked about that phenomenon, Cinnamon thought about the evening ahead—and Nick. Yesterday Fran had helped her find a short, lowcut dress and sexy heels, but there was no guarantee
he would notice. He could easily reject her.
That frustrating possibility loomed over her head like a dark rain cloud, and she considered staying in and reading a book instead. But she wanted to applaud Abby. And besides, if she accepted the job in Boston, this could be her last chance to seduce the man she wanted more than anything.
Sue tore her gaze from her husband to focus on Cinnamon. “Fran says you’re a consultant,” she said, while Jim continued to shower his wife with mooney-eyed love.
Envy sliced through Cinnamon. Would a man—Nick in particular—ever look at her that way? “That’s right,” she replied, picking at a slice of ham.
Across from her, Kirk and Elise Workman exchanged a brief, tender kiss that left her feeling even more bereft.
Why in the world had she sat down to breakfast with this group of lovers? Appetite ruined, she wondered how to leave without seeming rude.
“A very talented consultant,” Fran added from the kitchen. “Over the past few weeks Cinnamon helped orchestrate an employee buyout of our cranberry factory that will save the company from going under.”
“Really,” Jim said respectfully, and even Kirk and Elise stopped snuggling to offer impressed murmurs.
Cinnamon gave a modest shrug. “I had plenty of help.”
“Maybe so,” Fran conceded as she brought the coffeepot in for refills. “But nothing would have happened without you. And that’s not all,” she said, topping off mugs. “Yesterday the factory offered her a job as general manager. Our whole town hopes she’ll take it.” She winked. “That’s why the mayor and his wife treated her to dinner.”
Cinnamon shot her big-mouth friend a how-dare-you-tell-these-strangers frown. Ignoring the censuring look, Fran returned the coffeepot to the kitchen.
“Are you thinking about taking the job?” Kirk asked.
Cinnamon, who had just popped a mouthful of quiche into her mouth, chewed slowly, giving herself time to form a reply. Of course, she loved the town, Fran and her new friends. The challenge of running the factory definitely excited her. The salary wasn’t what she wanted, but the cost of living here wasn’t as high as it was in a large city. Meanwhile, to compensate, the mayor had offered lots of perks, including an ocean-front, rent-to-own home. Then once the company prospered, her pay would go up accordingly, with bonuses, as well.
The one drawback was Nick. Lust aside, she was falling for him. That scared her half to death. He wasn’t interested in settling down. Well, she wasn’t sure she wanted that, either, not with Nick. At least, that was what she told herself.
Could she live in a place where she’d likely bump into him often, or would she be able to forget him and move on with her life? She longed to discuss her doubts with Fran, but with so many guests this weekend, a talk would have to wait, possibly for days.
She chased the quiche with a sip of coffee. “The offer came as a huge surprise. I’m flattered and definitely interested, but I haven’t made up my mind.” May as well tell the group and Fran about the other offer. “Funny thing is, I also got a job offer from a consulting group in Boston.”
“Really?” Fran frowned. “You didn’t tell me. Congratulations,” she said with no enthusiasm.
“It happened late yesterday afternoon, and we haven’t seen each other.”
“I suppose you’ll be taking that position.”
Two weeks ago, Cinnamon would have answered ‘yes’ without hesitation. Now she sighed. “I honestly don’t know yet. They’re giving me a full week to make up my mind.”
“Looks like you have some serious decisions to make,” Bo observed.
Everyone at the table went silent, each person absorbing the information. The perfect opportunity to leave.
The oven timer buzzed. “The second batch of breakfast rolls is ready. Would anyone like seconds?”
“No, thank you,” Cinnamon replied. She glanced out the window, where patches of blue sky were visible. “I think I’ll take a beach walk and do some thinking. See you all later, I’m sure.”
She cleared her plate and left.
STANDING NEAR THE TOWN HALL stage, Nick jerked at his tie, which felt uncomfortably tight. He hated dances, especially this one. He glanced from the hearts papering the walls to the red and purple garlands draped around the huge “Happy Valentine’s Day” heart hanging over the town hall stage, to the band members underneath it, setting up.
Everybody in town was here tonight, including Curt Blanco, a photographer for the Cranberry News Weekly. He’d taken a few snaps of Abby for the paper, and no doubt wanted pictures of the dance for the same reason. There were people Nick had never seen before, the usual Valentine’s Day tourists.
All of them were dressed in fancy clothes, including Cinnamon. A short, slinky red number hugged her curves, and high heels set off her sexy legs. Damned if that didn’t wake up a certain part of his anatomy. She was killing him. The past three days he’d avoided her, and he meant to steer clear of her tonight, too.
After Abby accepted her award, he saw Cinnamon heading toward his niece. He slipped into the men’s room.
By the time he came out she’d disappeared in the crowd. Now he combed the room for her but didn’t see her. Catching himself, he frowned. Three days keeping his distance hadn’t helped. He was still randy as hell and in a foul mood, to boot…proving that Out of Sight, Out of Mind was garbage.
He’d heard about both of her job offers. Everyone had. Which one would she take? If she stuck around here, he’d never get her out of his system. And now it was time to leave and take a long, cold shower.
“I’m out of here,” he muttered to his sister.
Looking alarmed, she clasped his arm. “You can’t go yet. You have to dance with Abby.”
Nick eyed his niece, one of half a dozen twelve-year-old females talking animatedly and laughing nervously. From time to time they shot sly glances at the group of awkward, skinny boys hovering nearby.
Nick narrowed his eyes at the boys. If any of them so much as touched his niece…But since they looked scared half to death, he figured she was safe. “It’s not me she wants to dance with,” he grumbled.
Sharon laughed. “Well, then, stay and dance with me, so I don’t look like a total misfit.”
“Not gonna happen.” Nick nodded toward the refreshment table. “Andy Jessup’s been checking you out since he walked in.”
“Has he?”
To his surprise his sister flushed. “You two have something going on?” he asked, arching his brows.
“Not yet, but I wouldn’t mind. Look at Liz, over by the band.”
Nick spotted her, hanging on some poor tourist’s arm and batting her eyes.
“Looks as if she won’t be bothering you tonight,” Sharon observed.
He heaved a sigh of relief. “Thank God for small favors. Andy’s not as bold as his older sister.”
“That’s okay.” His sister fluffed her hair. “I think I’ll get myself a cup of punch. Wish me luck.”
Nick watched her go, and noted how Andy straightened his shoulders and smoothed down his hair. His sister and Andy. Nick shook his head. He’d never have guessed.
Ready to leave, he turned toward the exit. A sparkly red dress snagged his attention. Cinnamon. His body jumped to attention again. Damn.
She was standing near the exit, talking with Fran, Joelle, Noelle and Rosy. Meaning, he’d have to pass the whole nosy group on the way out. Scowling, he shoved his hands in his pockets and headed forward. Rosy saw him, and all the women waved. Before he reached them they melted into the crowd. Except for Cinnamon, who stood waiting.
Why that made him nervous was anybody’s guess, and irritated the hell out of him.
“Hello,” she smiled as he sauntered up. “I tried to say that earlier, but you disappeared.”
Her curious look made him feel the need to explain. “Men’s room.” He shrugged. “Nice dress.”
“Thank you. I like your slacks and sports coat, too.”
Her eyes were warm a
nd appreciative. Nick scrubbed his hand over the back of his neck. “Don’t expect to see me this way again, because I only dress up for special occasions. I did this for Abby.”
“Presenting her with a plaque and a savings bond was really nice of Cranberry,” Cinnamon said.
“Sure was.” He’d said his hellos, now he could leave. But in the silence that followed, he stayed put and searched for something to say. “That patent attorney called yesterday,” he said at last. “She filed seven patents for me.”
“Fantastic,” Cinnamon said. “The cranberry factory should be paying you soon. I’m sure that’s just the beginning.”
Which would solve his worries about Abby’s camp expenses. He grinned. “Thanks to you.”
“You did the work,” she replied with a modest dip of her head. “I only planted the idea.”
The lights dimmed and the music started.
“Dance with me,” he said, surprising himself.
“I’d like that.” A nervous smile playing on her lips, she clasped his shoulder and offered him her free arm.
A slow, sultry song filled the room.
“That’s not the way I dance.” Nick wrapped his arms around her waist and pulled her close.
Cinnamon twined her arms around his neck. Her body pressed against him softly.
“That’s better.” Thanks to her high heels she was only a few inches shorter than he. Flowery perfume filled his senses. “You smell good,” he said. She felt even better.
She smiled up at him. “Glad you like it.”
“Everybody’s talking about your two job offers. Which one are you going to take?”
“Everybody?” She shook her head. “News sure travels fast.”
“That’s Cranberry for you.” Somebody bumped into him and he danced her toward the corner, where it was less crowded. “Nobody knows which job you’ll take, though,” he said, pulling back to look at her.
“I haven’t made up my mind yet.”
Her lips were fire-engine red, matching the dress, and he couldn’t tear his eyes from them. He wanted badly to kiss her.
“I thought I’d make a list of pros and cons for each job,” she was saying. “Then weigh and rank them, and then decide. What do you think?”
