Dynasties: The Danforths. Maureen Child

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      “All those eligible bachelors,” Louzanna said with a sigh. “Ah, if only I was ten years younger.”

      Sharie Jo rolled her eyes. “Then you’d still be ten years too old.”

      “Don’t be sassy, Sharie Jo,” Louzanna said with a sniff, then tucked an imaginary loose strand of blond hair behind her ear. “Besides I wasn’t thinking of the younger Danforth men, I was talking about Abraham.” Her eyes took on a dreamy quality. “A handsome widow in his fifties. Surely the man must be lonely.”

      “Don’t kid yourself, Lulu,” Sharie Jo said. “Rich, powerful, handsome men are never lonely. Bored, maybe. Lonely, no.”

      In the middle of writing the t in birthday, Tina went still. Is that why Reid had asked her out last night? she wondered. Because he was bored? To say that she was different from the women he usually dated was probably the understatement of the century. Blue-blooded Savannah socialites and debutantes were more up his alley. Women with names like Caroline or Blair or—what was the name of the woman in the magazine article she’d plucked from the magazine rack and read this morning? Oh, yeah. She curled one corner of her lip. Mitzi.

      Like Sharie Jo said, rich, handsome, powerful men were never lonely. Reid had probably dated dozens of women. Tina shrugged a shoulder, annoyed that she was wasting brain space wondering about the man’s love life. Who Reid Danforth did or didn’t date certainly had no bearing on her life. They were neighbors for the next year, that was all.

      After he’d left her apartment last night, she’d seen him walk across the street and order a pizza at D’mores. Later in the evening, long after she’d gone to bed, she’d heard him working downstairs. She’d done her best to concentrate on the mystery novel she’d been reading, but her mind had kept wandering, wondering what he was doing.

      Wondering what might have happened if she had gone out with him.

      “Maybe I would have been the one bored,” she muttered out loud.

      “Did you say something, Katina?” Mariska glanced over.

      “No,” she said quickly. “Nothing at all.”

      When her mother turned back to her customers, Tina shook her head at her foolishness. She doubted Reid even remembered her name today, and here she was, talking to herself about the man.

      Determined not to let thoughts of Reid Danforth distract her further, she finished the y in Randy, then looked at her work.

      Happy Birtday, Randy.

      Birtday?

      So much for her determination not to be distracted.

      Scowling, she reached for the knife again to fix her mistake, then added more white frosting to smooth the top of the cake. Completely focused now, she grabbed the pastry bag and concentrated on her work.

      When every letter was perfect, Tina gave a satisfied nod. Lifting the pastry bag to dot the i, she happened to glance over as Reid walked in the door.

      His gaze met hers and held, and though it was only for a moment, it felt like minutes. Hours. If a fire had broken out and she was surrounded by flames, she couldn’t have moved.

      When one corner of his mouth lifted, her heart did a somersault, her hand tightened.

      And blue icing oozed all over her cake.

      Chastising herself, she looked away. Darn it! She’d been so proud of herself that she’d managed to resist the man’s charm, then he walks in the door with that you-want-me-you-know-you-do grin, and suddenly she can’t breathe? How did he do that? she thought irritably.

      Every head had turned. Conversation had died. When he walked through the crowd, it was like someone had rolled out a red carpet. And when he flashed that smile on the women in the bakery, they all but swooned.

      He owned the room, Tina realized. His confidence, his demeanor, his presence. And his looks, she thought, appreciating the stretch of broad shoulders under his black polo shirt and the low slung worn jeans across lean hips and long legs. A woman didn’t stand a chance.

      Well, except her, of course.

      It took all of five seconds for the bakery to erupt into chaos and converge on Reid, another forty-five seconds for Tina’s mother to come around the counter and push her way through the crowd like a linebacker at the Super Bowl.

      “Let the man sit.” Mariska shooed everyone away. “Jason, bring our new neighbor a cup of coffee.”

      When Jason mumbled something under his breath, Tina shot him a warning glance. Nothing but trouble and heartache would come from any kind of public confrontation between the two men. A scowl on his face, Jason turned away, certainly not appeased, but for the moment, at least, contained.

      “Thank you.” Reid plucked a ticket from the number machine. “But I can wait my turn.”

      “Of course you will not wait,” Mariska said and everyone who still had tickets in their hand nodded their approval. “Latte, cappuccino, espresso?”

      Tina rolled her eyes, surprised her mother didn’t add, my daughter’s hand in marriage?

      “Black would be great,” Reid said. “But—”

      “We have strudel still warm from the oven.” Mariska didn’t give Reid a chance to protest as she pulled him to a chair. “Tina, a slice of strudel for Mr. Danforth. And a nice apricot rugala.”

      “Please, call me Reid,” he said to Mariska, then looked at Tina with a grin that clearly said he was enjoying himself. “I really don’t want to be any trouble.”

      “It is no trouble,” Mariska said cheerfully. “Is it, Katina?”

      Though it hurt, Tina smiled. “No, of course not. No trouble at all.”

      “So tell me.” Mariska sat in the chair beside Reid. “Will your wife be helping you with the campaign?”

      Oh, for heaven’s sake. Tina turned to slice the strudel. Her mother couldn’t have been less subtle if she’d pulled out a calendar and asked him what day he was available to plan a small wedding for four or five hundred.

      “I don’t have a wife,” Reid said. “But I’m certainly looking for volunteers.”

      Tina’s head shot up. Every female in the room drew in a breath.

      But before Mariska—or any of the other women in the room—could offer their services, Reid said, “To help with the campaign, of course.”

      Disappointment rippled through the bakery.

      “Ah.” Mariska’s shoulders sagged, then straightened again as she smiled brightly. “My daughters will help,” she said with enthusiasm. “We are all big supporters, you know.”

      What! Since when were they supporters of any political campaign? Tina stared at her mother in horror.

      “That’s very generous of you, Mrs. Alexander.” Reid slid a glance at Tina. “But maybe you should СКАЧАТЬ