Page 15 of Snowed In With the Maverick
“It’s Taylor Beef. That’s the magic,” Seth said, and smiled. He looked at the waiter. “Make that two burgers, thanks. And I’ll take a black coffee.”
While it wasn’t a date, itfeltlike one. And Seth had been on many dates with many beautiful women, at some of the finest restaurants in the state, but sitting in this little diner, with laminated menus and mismatched mugs and the sounds of an old Kenny Chesney tune coming through the speakers? It was already the best date he’d ever been on.
“How was your weekend?” Seth asked.
“Not much of a weekend, actually,” Andrea said. “I got the new drywall up. So I’m making progress.”
Seth flashed back to the image of Andrea answering her door, breathing from the exertion of her work. It was incredibly sexy. “Are you planning to do the whole thing yourself?” he asked.
Andrea shook her head. “I’ll have someone in to do the electrical. The fireplace needs cleaning—I don’t think it was used for years before I moved in—and I’m planning to redo the kitchen at some point. Right now, I’m just focusing on the basics, and hoping to open sometime in the early new year.”
“I’m sure my brother knows some people in construction in the area,” said Seth. “I could give him a call.”
Before she could respond, their waiter approached the table, balancing a tray with their coffees. Another server trailed him, surveying his performance with the rapt focus of a figure skating competition judge.
“Much better,” the older woman said, as the young guy deposited the first steaming mug on the table. “It’s all about shifting the tray’s balance. Go take your break. I’ll cover for you.”
The woman, whose nametag read Eileen, grinned at Andrea and Seth as their waiter headed to the kitchen. “New kid on the block,” she said. “Dropped a full glass of orange juice in a customer’s lap this morning. We had to comp the meal.” Eileen’s gaze shifted as the diner’s door opened. “Hey, JenniLynn!” she called.
Seth followed her eyeline to see a woman entering the restaurant.
“Is that JenniLynn Garrett?” Andrea asked Eileen. “I’ve heard her name around town.”
“Sure is,” Eileen said, turning to them. “The next mayor of Tenacity, my lips to God’s ears!”
Andrea and Seth watched as the woman opened her large manila envelope and slid out some folded-up papers. “Mind if I leave these pamphlets here, Eileen?” JenniLynn asked. Her petite frame, paired with a chin-length blond bob and bright blue eyes, belied the commanding energy she radiated—like an NFL quarterback strategizing on game day.
“No problem,” said Eileen, adjusting the pencil in her bun. “How’s the campaign going? I still can’t believe with all you’ve got going on, you’re able to add this to the mix!”
“You know what they say,” said JenniLynn. “You want something done, ask a busy person to do it.”
“Amen to that,” Eileen said.
JenniLynn smiled and waved, and just as quickly as she’d breezed in, she disappeared back through the door with her armful of pamphlets.
“That woman,” Eileen said, pointing out the door, “is a dynamo.”
“Do you know the other candidates?” Andrea asked.
Eileen nodded. “There’s Graham Callahan and Ellis Corey, who are both ranchers. Then Marty Moore is seeking reelection. And then, of course, JenniLynn, married with three kids and manager of the Coyote Creek Ranch out on High Plains Road.”
“And what do people think of Mayor Moore?” asked Seth.
Eileen leaned in a little and raised an eyebrow. “All I know is the people in Tenacity are ready for a change.” She gave a firm nod. “I’ll send the youngin’ back with your meals when they’re ready.”
Eileen disappeared, and Andrea looked back at Seth.
“I’ll have to do some more research on the candidates before I make up my mind. But if that woman can manage three kids, a husband and a ranch, something tells me she has the chops to manage a town.”
“I wouldn’t disagree,” said Seth.
* * *
The waiter set their burgers on the table, and Andrea watched as Seth thanked him with an easy warmth, then launched into a friendly back-and-forth about an NFL team they both followed.
Seth might be filthy rich, but you’d never guess it. She imagined bringing Harold to the Silver Spur—how he’d react to the paper place mats and the plastic ketchup bottle in the center of the table. She could already picture the faint sneer of disapproval tugging at his lips, the subtle air of snobbery he’d try and fail to hide.
“So next week,” said Seth. “The whole town will be out to vote. What do you think about us setting up a booth outside the Town Hall? Talk to people. Take the temperature on what folks might think about this idea of a dino park in town.”
