Page 76 of Summer Weddings
As they sat down at the counter, Ben stuck his head out from the kitchen. “It’s self-service this morning, fellows.”
“No problem.” Sawyer walked around the counter and reached for the pot. He filled two mugs. Meanwhile, Christian helped himself to a couple of powdered-sugar doughnuts from under the plastic dome.
“Getting back to Mariah,” Sawyer said when he’d finished stirring his coffee. He felt obliged to clear this up; in his opinion, Christian’s attitude needed adjustment.
“Do we have to?”
“Yes, we do. She’s proved herself to be a capable secretary.”
“The woman’s nothing but a nuisance. She can’t type worth a damn, she misfiles correspondence, and she habitually loses things. The accounts-receivable disaster this morning is a prime example.”
“I’ve never had any trouble with her,” Sawyer countered. “I’ve found Mariah hardworking and sincere.”
“She makes too many mistakes.”
“Frankly I don’t see it. If you ask me,you’rethe problem. You make her nervous. She’s constantly worried that she’s going to mess up—it’s a self-fulfilling prophecy, Christian. Besides,” Sawyer added, “she’s gone to a lot of trouble to work things out with her family and settle this lawsuit business. I admire her for that.”
Christian obviously didn’t share his admiration. “I wish they’d talked her into returning to Seattle. That’s where she belongs.”
Sawyer merely shrugged. “Face it—Mariah’s going to stay the entire year. It’s a matter of pride with her, and that’s something we can both understand.”
Christian looked away.
“She isn’t so bad, you know.” Sawyer slapped his brother affectionately on the back. “There’s one thing you seem to have conveniently forgotten.”
“What’s that?”
Sawyer grabbed one of Christian’s doughnuts. He grinned broadly. “You must’ve likedsomethingabout her. After all, you’re the guy who hired her.”
“In other words, I don’t have anyone to blame but myself.”
“You got it.” With that Sawyer walked out of the café, leaving his brother to foot the bill.
* * *
In two weeks Bethany hadn’t seen even a glimpse of Mitch Harris. The man made himself as scarce as sunlight in an Alaskan winter. He must be working overtime, and she had to wonder if it was—at least partly—in an effort to avoid her.
Bethany could accept that he wasn’t attracted to her if that was indeed the case. But the night they’d met and each time afterward,she’d sensed a growing awareness between them. She knew he felt it, too, even though he doggedly resisted it. Whenever they were in a room together, no matter how many people were present, their eyes gravitated toward each other. The solid ground beneath Bethany would subtly shift, and she’d have to struggle to hide the fact that anything was wrong.
“Can I clean the blackboards for you, Ms. Ross?” Chrissie asked, interrupting her musings. The youngster stood next to Bethany’s desk. It would be very easy to love this child, she thought.
Chrissie had been her student for two weeks, and it became increasingly difficult not to make her a teacher’s pet. The seven-year-old was so willing to please and always looked for ways to brighten Bethany’s day.
If Bethany had any complaints about Mitch’s daughter, it was the number of times Chrissie introduced her father into the conversation. Clearly the girl adored him.
“Can I?” she asked again, holding up the erasers.
“Certainly, Chrissie. How thoughtful of you to ask. I’d be delighted if you cleaned the boards.”
Chrissie flushed with pleasure. “I like to help my dad, too. He needs me sometimes.”
“I’ll bet you’re good at helping him. You’ve been a wonderful assistant to me.”
Once again the child glowed at Bethany’s approval. “My dad promised to pick me up after school today,” she said; she seemed to be watching for Bethany’s reaction to that news. From other bits of information Chrissie had dropped, Bethany knew that Mitch occasionally collected his daughter after school. She herself hadn’t seen him.
“With your dad coming, maybe you should skip cleaning the boards this afternoon,” Bethany said. She didn’t want Mitch to be kept waiting because Chrissie was busy,nor did she want to force him to enter the classroom.
“It’ll be all right,” Chrissie said quickly. “Don’t worry, Dad’ll wait.”
