A Down-Home Savannah Christmas

by Nancy Robards Thompson

  Elle’s head turned in the direction of her grandmother, who was now walking toward them.

  “Actually, I did think of something,” he said. “Want to grab a drink sometime while you’re home?”

  Slim chance. But one thing he’d learned over the past few years was if you didn’t ask, the answer was always no.

  * * *

  “Well, good,” Gigi said. “Good! I’m glad you two have had a chance to say hello.” There was a certain gleam in her grandmother’s eye that made Elle uncomfortable. “If you didn’t run into each other this morning, I was going to make sure Daniel knew you were home. So you two could get reacquainted.”

  Gigi’s eyes glinted with mischief, but the way she was surreptitiously glancing around the lobby didn’t escape Elle’s notice. “But right now, you’ll have to excuse us, Elle, dear. Daniel and I have some business to discuss.”

  “What kind of business, Gigi?” Gigi’s entrance had provided a reason to pretend like Daniel hadn’t asked her out for a drink, but it was eclipsed by the fact that he was there to see her grandmother. “Did you forget the breakfast meeting with the Society Ladies is this morning?”

  Wiladean’s gaze flitted toward the dining room, where the women were beginning to arrive, and then back to Elizabeth and Daniel. “No, I didn’t forget. But now that you mention it, why don’t you go help your mother greet everyone, dear? I’m sure they’ll be delighted to see you.” She motioned for Daniel to follow her. “This shouldn’t take very long.”

  As Gigi and Daniel started walking toward the office, Elizabeth said, “I’m happy to help Mom, but before I do, I’d like to know what your meeting with Daniel is about.”

  She directed the words to Daniel, whose stoic expression didn’t give up anything.

  Usually, she wouldn’t have gotten into Gigi’s business like this, but her grandmother was acting squirrelly, and this was Daniel Quindlin. He was good-looking and charming and the last person on earth she’d trust alone with anyone she cared about, especially Gigi. Something was going on and she intended to get to the bottom of it.

  Wiladean laughed. “Bless your heart, Elle. You’ve always been too curious for your own good.”

  She raised her brows at her grandmother.

  “Gigi,” Elle said, using her best teacher’s voice.

  “Oh, honey, Daniel is here to talk about some renovations we want to do to the place.” She shrugged and waved her hand, as if the reason for the meeting should’ve been perfectly obvious. “That’s all.”

  “Why are you talking to Daniel about the remodel?”

  What kind of a racket was he trying to pull? And on my Gigi?

  “I’m a licensed general contractor.” To Daniel’s credit, he didn’t sound defensive. “I specialize in restoring old houses like this one. It’s what I do.”

  Elle recalled that he’d said he’d rebuilt his grandmother’s house after the fire, and he had worked construction jobs when they were in high school. Sometimes he’d skipped school to take day labor jobs for extra money. That was why he’d gotten behind in school and she’d had to tutor him.

  Well, for one day, anyway.

  Then he’d kissed her and she’d freaked out and she’d told the principal she was too busy to help him. And she was. She was dating Roger. Plus, she was a straight A honor student, student body president, head of the art club and chair of the honor society tutoring committee. Backing out on helping the new kid bring up his grades hadn’t looked good, but Daniel had scared her to death. Because when he’d kissed her, she’d kissed him back. That one kiss had made her feel things and want to do things she’d never realized she was capable of feeling or doing. Things a good girl didn’t feel or do. Roger had certainly never made her feel like that. Daniel was dark and dangerous. When she’d looked into his brown eyes, she sensed that he’d already lived a thousand lives and bore scars from each one.

  When he’d befriended Roger, she’d always felt like that kiss was blackmail material.

  From that point forward she’d never trusted Daniel Quindlin.

  “Why does your meeting have to take place at the same time that the Savannah Women’s Society is about to present you with a check? You should be in that meeting, not this one.”

  “Oh, go on now and stop being so bossy,” Gigi said. “I’m the queen bee around here, missy, and I’m asking you to go help your mama with the breakfast and leave us to our meeting.”

  “Okay, I’ll go help Mom. I’ll tell her you asked me to fill in for you because you’re meeting with Daniel.”

  “Now, don’t do that. Don’t you say anything to her.” Urgency was plain as day in Gigi’s forced smile.

  “Why not?” Elle recalled her mother saying that the two of them had been at an impasse over the remodeling project. “Gigi, are you meeting with Daniel on the sly?”

  Wiladean sighed and fixed Elizabeth with a pointed look. “Elle, dear, don’t be silly. I don’t have time to explain things right now, but I will fill both you and your mother in on the details later.”

  Wiladean smiled and waved at someone Elizabeth didn’t recognize. The woman started walking in their direction.

  “This is exactly why I need your help,” Gigi said under her breath, keeping her smile intact. “If I don’t get out of here, I’ll get pulled into the Society Ladies’ meeting.”

  Elle raised her brows, conveying the message she wasn’t going anywhere until Gigi fessed up.

  “Your mom and I are having... Oh, how do I say it? Zelda and I are having creative differences and we are at a standoff with the direction of the renovation. We have different visions for the inn and I wanted to talk to Daniel alone.” Wiladean lowered her voice another decibel as the other woman approached. “Will you help me, please?”

  Before Elizabeth could answer, Gigi’s friend approached.

  “Wiladean, the Forsyth looks lovely as always. Though I imagine our grant will help you fix that unsightly water damage.”

  As the woman bent in and blew air kisses onto each of Gigi’s cheeks, her gaze was shamelessly pinned on Daniel. Elizabeth slanted a look at her former classmate, who, as much as Elle hated to admit it, was looking particularly good this morning—every tall, lean, darkly handsome inch of him. Who could blame the woman for looking, even if she was old enough to be his grandmother?

  Daniel seemed oblivious.

  It struck Elizabeth that there was a time when most of polite Savannah society didn’t want anything to do with him. My, how times had changed. This woman was looking at him like she wanted to eat him for breakfast.

  “Wiladean, would you like to reschedule?” he asked. “This seems like it’s a bad time.”

  “No, Daniel,” Gigi insisted.

  “Oh, is this the Daniel Quindlin?” the other woman asked. She sounded a little too coy.

  Gigi nodded.

  “I’m Angela Stanton.” The woman offered her diamond-laden hand. Daniel shook it. “I’ve heard so much about you, but I haven’t had the pleasure. You are in demand, young man. Perhaps I could schedule a time to talk to you about remodeling my home. I’m right around the corner on Monterey Square. I bought the place after my husband passed away.”

  The hungry, grieving widow. Of course.

  “Angela, you remodeled six months ago—if that,” Gigi said. “What more could you have to do?”

  “It’s a never-ending job, Wiladean,” Angela said. “You of all people should know.” She turned to Elizabeth. “And who is this lovely creature?”

  “This is my middle granddaughter, Elizabeth. Elle arrived from Atlanta last night. She surprised us. We’re so happy to have her home. She is going to attend the meeting on my behalf this morning.”

  “Aren’t you a pretty thing,” Angela gushed.

  “Thank you,” Elle said. She could feel the burn of Daniel’s gaze on her. “It’s nice to meet
you, Mrs. Stanton.”

  “Are you married?” the woman asked. “If not, the two of you would make a lovely couple. Wouldn’t they make the most beautiful babies, Willa?”

  Elle flinched. She hoped her discomfort wasn’t as obvious as it felt. Right about now, she felt beet red at the thought of having beautiful babies with Daniel. She couldn’t even look at him.

  “I’m certainly not going to dispute that,” said Gigi. “I’m almost eighty-five years old. At this age, my only goal is for one of my grandgirls to get married and make me a great-Gigi.” She eyed Daniel and Elle. “I have plans for these two.”

  For the love of all things mortifying.

  Was she kidding?

  “Uh-oh, there’s Zelda,” Gigi said. “Daniel, go into the office. Quickly.”

  Thank heaven for diversions. Elle nearly crumbled under the awkwardness of her grandmother and Angela talking about mating her and Daniel—the person who was responsible for ruining her marriage—as if they were two show dogs.

  For that matter, why was Gigi consorting with the enemy? Even if Angela had said he was in demand as a contractor, it didn’t matter. Builders in this area had to be a dime a dozen. It wasn’t as if they were doing major construction to the inn. She’d talk to Gigi about that later and it would probably be a good idea to have a little talk about boundaries. She had not come home to be fixed up with the guy who had ruined her life.

  Gigi stepped in front of Daniel as if her slight frame could hide him. “Go,” she said. “I’ll be along shortly.”

  But it was to no avail.

  “Daniel?” Zelda said. “What are you doing here this morning?”

  Zelda looked pointedly at her mother as if she sensed something was rotten.

  “He stopped by to talk about the renovation,” Wiladean said.

  “I’ll leave y’all to sort out this matter,” said Angela. “I see Bunny Henry over there and I need to chat with her.” With a flutter of her fingers, gaze scanning the room, Angela disengaged from the conversation.

  Zelda looked skeptical. “Isn’t that nice, Daniel. But it’s just about the worst time imaginable. Isn’t it, Mother? We are hosting the Savannah Women’s Society this morning. Could you possibly come back this afternoon?”

  So, wait. Was her mother in on hiring Daniel for the remodel, too? Seriously?

  “I have to be at another jobsite this afternoon,” he said. “But I could swing by later this morning.” He looked at his watch. “Maybe around ten? Would you be free then?”

  Maybe she was jumping the gun. Maybe they hadn’t hired him yet and this was a courtesy interview? Humph. Daniel Quindlin deserved the same courtesy he’d shown her when he’d nudged her fiancé to make a run for it.

  Elizabeth waited for the rat to correct Gigi, to tell Zelda he hadn’t dropped by unannounced, that Gigi had obviously scheduled their secret rendezvous well in advance. For that matter, that she’d intended for it to happen while Zelda was busy facilitating the Savannah Women’s Society this morning.

  But he didn’t dispute her. He stood there and kept Gigi’s secret.

  “Why don’t you both talk to Daniel while the ladies are eating their breakfast, and I’ll keep an eye on everything in the dining room,” Elizabeth said. “The hard part is done, right? All I’ll need to do is restock the food as it gets low, refill water glasses and be available if anyone needs anything. I’ll let you know when they’re ready to start the meeting and you both can be there for the presentation of the check. I mean, you’re not looking at blueprints or choosing finishings at this point, are you?”

  She knew Gigi wouldn’t be very happy with her for offering a solution that would free up Zelda to meet with Daniel, but Gigi hadn’t exactly been playing fair, either.

  This would level the playing field.

  She’d handled meetings and parties like this hundreds of times when she was in high school and living at the Forsyth.

  “Thank you, honey, but I don’t think so.” Zelda took off her apron, folded it and draped it over her arm. “The Women’s Society is giving us money. It seems rude not to join them for breakfast. It’s as if we’re taking the money and running. That would be ungrateful, wouldn’t it, Mother? I’m sorry, Daniel, but we need to reschedule for later this morning. You’re awfully sweet to accommodate us.”

  Gigi frowned. “I think you need to be in that breakfast meeting, Zelda. You and Elle. You’re the next generations who will run the Forsyth. I’ll be retiring pretty soon and you’ll be running the show.”

  “That’s more reason I should have input on the remodel,” Zelda said. “Come on, Mother. Let’s not get into it now. All three of us need to be in there for the Savannah Women’s Society meeting. Three generations of Galloway-Boudreau-Clark women. Let’s go welcome everyone.”

  Elizabeth could sense the argument perched behind Gigi’s pursed lips, ready to pounce. But when Zelda turned and started walking toward the dining room, Gigi sighed and followed her daughter, leaving Elle alone with Daniel.

  “Welcome home, Elle. Let’s figure out when we’re going to get that drink.”

  Her mind screamed no, thank you, but damned if her traitorous heart didn’t leap at the thought.

  * * *

  Later that morning, Daniel ran into Elle again after he’d finished meeting with Zelda and Wiladean. Elle had not been invited to join them. However, both Zelda and Wiladean had been armed with plenty of big, opposing opinions.

  “How did it go?” she asked tentatively.

  She was seated at the mahogany bar that served as a front desk and a general repository for pamphlets, brochures and other touristy info. He’d sensed her presence the spilt second before she’d spoken. Yep, he still had a sort of sixth sense when it came to Elizabeth Clark. It was as if his body was hardwired to detect her.

  He smiled, trying to buy time so he could come up with a diplomatic answer. Something more professional than “Talk about being caught between a rock and a hard place” or “That was a no-win meeting.”

  “Your mom and grandmother definitely have their own ideas about the remodel and they’re about one hundred and eighty degrees apart from each other. I thought maybe you’d be in the meeting. To moderate. No offense to those in attendance.”

  He wasn’t going to tell Elle that he’d suggested they call him after they’d come to a meeting of the minds. Because until they did, meetings like this were a waste of everyone’s time. Of course, since Wiladean was the one with the checkbook, she would likely have the last word. However, Zelda had made it clear the grant from the Savannah Women’s Society belonged to all of them and she wasn’t giving up on her vision anytime soon.

  It wasn’t his call to play referee. He would build and refurbish whatever they told him to do. But they had to have a plan.

  “The Galloway-Boudreau-Clark women never have been short on opinions,” she said. “Since I wasn’t invited to the meeting, it wasn’t my place to insert myself. I’m sure they’ll figure it out. So, you’re a contractor now?”

  He nodded. “I specialize in rehabbing old houses in the historic and Victorian districts.”

  “I know you worked construction when we were in school, but how did you get into that specialization?”

  She remembered.

  Her brows were knitted and she was smiling as if she were waiting for him to deliver the punchline to a joke. He supposed he might still be a joke in her eyes. But he was good at what he did. That was why he was getting so much business he was having to refer people elsewhere or put them on a waiting list. Most opted for the waiting list.

  He wasn’t going to tell Elizabeth this, because he didn’t need to explain himself.

  Instead, he pulled out his wallet, took out a business card and handed it to her.

  She looked at it and read aloud. “‘Quindlin Brothers Renovations—Saving Savannah one historic house a
t a time.’” Then she looked back at him.

  “Professional.”

  “I do my best.”

  “I’m sure you do.”

  Her eyes were still as blue as he remembered. Bluer than the Savannah sky on a clear winter day. He could get lost in those eyes. But over the past several years, he’d worked hard to grow his business to this point and earn the respect of the people in the community. The last thing he needed to do was mess around and screw things up so that it affected the job Wiladean had hired him to do at the inn. Elle’s grandmother had always been kind to him. She’d taken in his grandmother and brother after the fire, giving them a place to stay; she’d been one of the first people to forget the sins of his youth and offer good words when people asked for a character reference. Now she’d hired him to renovate her own home and business.

  Even though his business was flourishing, if he offended Wiladean Galloway-Boudreau, he’d stand to lose a lot of business. He’d made some bad choices in his life, but he had no intention of messing up now.

  Chapter Three

  When Elle wheeled the last cart of dirty dishes from the Women’s Society meeting into the kitchen, her mother was at the sink, washing the delicate china cups and setting each aside. Elle parked the cart, picked up the dish towel and began drying.

  “How was the meeting with Daniel?” Elle asked.

  Zelda sighed. “Your grandmother and I are at a standoff.”

  “What is this all about? Why can’t you two agree?”

  “It’s the age-old struggle she and I have always had. She wants things to stay the same. I want change. I need change.”

  No surprise there.

  Elle slanted a glance at her mother. “What kind of change are you talking about?”

  That was the burning question. The Forsyth Galloway Inn had been mostly the same since the family had started the business in 1874. Maybe not exactly the same, as the mansion had originally been built to serve as the Galloway family’s home, but over the years they’d stuck to variations on a traditional theme.