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  “Snowflakes hardly qualify as an emergency purchase,” Tom told him, wondering if he was going to have many discussions like this during his tenure in Serenity. If so, it was going to be a frustrating experience.

  Howard waved off his objections. “You’ll find a way, I’m sure. The point is to get started on this now.”

  “It’s September, Howard,” Tom reminded him, his dread growing in direct proportion to Howard’s unwavering determination.

  Howard waved off the reminder. “And it takes time to get things organized, especially when you have to rely on volunteers. Surely you know that. Your résumé cited all that organizational experience you have. Use it.”

  “It seems to me that since you have so much enthusiasm for this project, you should be the one in charge,” Tom said, unable to keep the desperate note out of his voice. Another minute of even thinking about pulling together a Christmas celebration and he’d be sweating openly.

  He’d grown up in a household that began holiday preparations not much later than this, complete with decorators who made every downstairs room in his family’s Charleston household a designer’s Christmas showcase before the round of social occasions began right after Thanksgiving. Heaven forbid that he or his sisters actually try to unwrap one of the packages on display under any of the lavishly decorated trees. Most were nothing more than empty boxes. Like a lot of things that went on in the McDonald home, it was all about show, not substance.

  He was aware that Howard was studying him with a narrowed gaze. “You got something against Christmas?” the mayor inquired.

  “In the religious context, absolutely nothing,” Tom said quickly. “I’m just saying that organizing a bunch of decorations and such is not an effective use of my time. Then there’s the whole issue of religious displays on public property, separation of church and state and all that. We need to be careful. The courts are ruling against a lot of these displays.”

  “Nonsense,” Howard said. “This is Serenity. Nobody here objects to Christmas.” He stood up. “I’ll want to see a report on your progress with this before next Thursday’s council meeting. Understood?”

  Tom barely resisted a desire to close his eyes and pray for patience. “Understood,” he said, tight-lipped.

  Putting him in charge of the celebration, he thought sourly, was a little bit like turning it over to Scrooge.

  * * *

  If Jeanette had been a drinker, her conversation with Maddie would have sent her straight to a bar. Instead, it sent her fleeing to Sullivan’s for a double serving of Dana Sue’s famous apple bread pudding topped with cinnamon ice cream. The order—or a report on her sour mood from the waitress—immediately drew Dana Sue out of the kitchen.

  The owner of Serenity’s highly successful, upscale restaurant and part owner of The Corner Spa set down the oversize bowl of dessert and took a seat opposite Jeanette.

  “What’s wrong?” she asked, her expression filled with concern.

  Jeanette winced. She should have known that coming here was a mistake. All of the Sweet Magnolias—the name that Maddie, Dana Sue and Helen called themselves—were too darn intuitive, to say nothing of nosy and meddlesome. “What makes you think anything’s wrong?” she replied, digging into the bread pudding.

  “For starters, you almost never order dessert, much less a double serving of it. Then there’s the grim expression on your face.” Dana Sue studied her. “And the fact that Maddie called here and told me you were upset about a conversation the two of you had. She had a hunch you’d head this way.”

  “Is there one single thing the three of you don’t share?” Jeanette inquired testily, shoveling in another mouthful of the homemade cinnamon ice cream that was melting over the warm dessert. If it weren’t for her state of mind, the combination of tender apples and rich ice cream would have sent her into raptures.

  “We’ve had our secrets,” Dana Sue assured her. “But we also rush right in whenever one of us needs backup. You’re one of us now, you know that, don’t you?”

  “No, I’m not,” Jeanette protested, though her eyes grew misty. “I didn’t grow up here. You three have known each other all your lives. You’ve been doing things together practically forever. I’m an outsider. I can’t be a Sweet Magnolia.”

  “For goodness’ sake, it’s not as if we have a bylaw against it. You are if we say you are,” Dana Sue countered. “Which means we get to worry about you and meddle in your life. So tell me what happened with Maddie.”

  “She didn’t fill you in?”

  “All she said was that it had something to do with Christmas. Frankly, she wasn’t making a lot of sense. Nobody goes into a tailspin over Christmas.” Her expression turned thoughtful. “Unless they’ve put off shopping until Christmas Eve. But that can’t be it. It’s only September.”

  “It’s definitely not about shopping,” Jeanette concurred. If she could have, she would have dropped the subject right there, but judging from Dana Sue’s quizzical expression, that wasn’t going to happen. Jeanette uttered a sigh of resignation. “She wants me to be on the town’s Christmas committee.”

  “Okay,” Dana Sue replied slowly. “I don’t see the problem. Don’t you have the time?”

  “I could make the time if I wanted to do it,” Jeanette admitted grudgingly. “But I don’t want to.”

  “Why?”

  “Because I don’t. Isn’t that reason enough?” She stuffed another spoonful of bread pudding into her mouth. She’d already eaten more than she should have. All that sugar was beginning to make her feel a little queasy.

  “If you’re that opposed to serving on the committee, I know Maddie won’t force it,” Dana Sue reassured her. “But maybe you should tell her why.”

  Jeanette shook her head. If she explained, she would have to dredge up way too many painful memories. “It’s not something I want to talk about. Can’t we leave it at that?”

  Dana Sue studied her sympathetically. “You know Maddie is a mother hen. She’ll worry if she doesn’t know the whole story, and she’ll nag you until she knows what’s going on. My advice is, just spill it and get it over with.”

  “No,” Jeanette said flatly. “You guys hired me to run a day spa. Christmas was never part of the deal. If it’s going to turn into this huge issue, maybe I don’t belong here.”

  “That’s ridiculous!” Dana Sue said, her expression alarmed. “Of course you belong here. We love you like a sister. You are not going to leave just because you don’t want to serve on the town’s Christmas festival committee. Maddie will figure something out. Maybe Elliot can do it. Or one of the other employees.”

  Jeanette’s eyes brightened at the mention of the spa’s top-notch personal trainer. “Elliot would be good. Now that he and Karen are together, he gets all mushy about every holiday on the calendar.” She warmed to the idea. “Plus, he’d be great at climbing ladders and doing all the physical stuff that’ll need to be done. Not to mention what excellent eye candy he is. All the women in town will be volunteering to serve on the committee.”

  “Good points,” Dana Sue said with a grin. “Be sure to mention them to Maddie. Now, why don’t I get you a real dinner. The catfish is especially good tonight.”

  Jeanette shook her head, shoving away the half-empty bowl of bread pudding. “I’m stuffed.”

  “And feeling better?” Dana Sue asked.

  “A hundred percent better,” Jeanette confirmed. “Thanks, Dana Sue.”

  “Anytime,” she said as she slid out of the booth. “But before you make a final decision about this whole committee thing, there’s one thing you should probably consider.”

  Jeanette froze. She’d thought the matter settled. She’d go to Maddie, recommend Elliot for the job and that would be that. She eyed Dana Sue warily. “Oh?”

  “The new town manager will be running the co
mmittee.”

  “So?”

  “He was in here with the mayor the other night,” Dana Sue told her. “He’s a real hottie.” She grinned. “And I hear he’s single.”

  Jeanette’s gaze instantly narrowed. “Is that what this is about? Are you and Maddie matchmaking?”

  “Wouldn’t dream of it,” Dana Sue replied innocently. “Just reporting what I know so you can make a fully informed decision.”

  “I’ve made my decision,” Jeanette said emphatically. “And I’m not looking for a man. You’ve just given me one more reason for saying no to this.”

  Dana Sue smiled knowingly. “I seem to recall Maddie saying those exact words not long before she walked down the aisle with Cal. Helen’s protests were even more forceful right before she married Erik. And I was pretty fierce about declaring I had zero interest in remarrying Ronnie. Just look at us now.”

  Jeanette blanched. “But I’m serious.”

  Dana Sue chuckled. “So were we, sweetie. So were we.”

  After the mistakes she’d made in choosing men, Jeanette’s life had been refreshingly calm lately. Peaceful. She liked it that way. She really did. Oh, she might envy Maddie, Dana Sue and Helen their solid relationships, but guys like theirs were few and far between. And she knew for a fact they weren’t the kind she attracted.

  She gave Dana Sue a stern look. “Stay out of my love life.”

  “I wasn’t aware you had a love life,” Dana Sue responded.

  “Exactly my point. And that’s the way it’s going to stay.”

  “Famous last words,” Dana Sue said as she walked away.

  “I mean it,” Jeanette called after her. “I do.”

  Dana Sue merely waved. Even though Jeanette couldn’t see her face, she knew the other woman was smirking. She resolved then and there to take up drinking margaritas like the rest of the Sweet Magnolias. Then the next time she had a crisis, she could head for a bar instead of straight into a hornet’s nest of sage advice and friendly meddling.

  CHAPTER TWO

  Tom was still seething over his meeting with the mayor when he left the office and headed for the Serenity Inn. The prospect of a long, empty evening in his hotel room held little appeal. He needed some exercise, something so strenuous that it would drive all thoughts of that ridiculous conversation from his head.

  On his way to his room, he stopped at the front desk and asked Maybelle Hawkins if there was a health club in town. She frowned at the question.

  “Well, now, there’s Dexter’s Gym, but I’ll tell you the truth, the place is a dump. I hear Dexter has real good equipment over there and once in a while he slaps a fresh coat of paint on the walls, but that’s the extent of any renovations he’s done in the past thirty years. Men don’t seem to notice, but the women complained for years, for all the good it did.”

  “So Dexter’s Gym is my only choice?” Tom wasn’t averse to the smell of sweat or even a shabby decor, but he questioned whether a place like that would keep its equipment in good repair, despite what Maybelle said. “I thought I’d read something in a regional magazine about a place called The Corner Spa.”

  Maybelle’s eyes lit up. “Now that’s another story,” she said. “Just walking through the door is a soothing experience. The owners took an old Victorian house at Main Street and Palmetto Lane and turned it into something special. I haven’t used any of the fancy machines, but I’ve had a facial and a mud bath. Mud! Can you imagine such a thing? To tell you the truth, though, I never felt better.”

  Tom nodded. “Sounds like the perfect place,” he said. He seemed to recall that the article had been equally glowing.

  “It is, but you can forget about it,” Maybelle said, an oddly triumphant glint in her eyes.

  “Why is that?”

  “It’s only open to women. After all those years of pleading with Dexter to fix his place up, they finally have a place of their own.”

  “You’re telling me that The Corner Spa discriminates?” he said, his ire stirring. “And nobody’s sued?”

  Maybelle gave him a blank look. “Why would they? It’s a spa for women. You men have had your private clubs and private golf courses for years. Now a few women get together and open something just for women and you want to sue? Give me a break.”

  Tom winced. His father had belonged to several of those private, men-only clubs, in fact. That wasn’t the point, though. This was a business, supposedly open to the public.

  “Come on,” he said. “You know it’s morally wrong, probably illegal.” He’d have to research that, look into those law books his father had bought in the hope that Tom would one day open his own law office in Charleston, actually use the law degree he’d earned.

  Maybelle didn’t seem the least bit impressed with his argument. “You’d have to take that up with one of the owners, but I’ll warn you about that. Helen Decatur’s the smartest attorney in town. Nobody with any sense goes against her.”

  Tom nodded slowly. Given his current annoyance over the way his first day on the job had gone, the prospect of challenging a business that blatantly discriminated based on gender held a lot of appeal. He could channel his sour mood into that fight, instead of waging a fruitless battle with Howard over the Christmas festival.

  Then again, if one of his first acts as a resident of Serenity was to sue a popular attorney and business owner, it might mark the beginning of the end of his career as town manager. He’d have to give that some thought.

  He gave Maybelle a distracted smile. “Thanks. I appreciate the information.”

  After a quick trip to his room to change into jeans, an old University of South Carolina T-shirt and sneakers, he headed downtown at a brisk pace. He’d probably wind up at Dexter’s, but first he wanted to get a good look at this fancy spa.

  He made a few wrong turns, but eventually he found it. There was something classy and welcoming about the old Victorian.

  He climbed the steps to the porch and peered in a window. The equipment inside looked top-notch. A dozen or so women were using the treadmills and the elliptical cross-trainers, and he spotted a couple of men in there, as well. Hoping Maybelle had gotten the membership restrictions wrong, he was about to open the door and step inside to find out, when he heard brisk footsteps behind him.

  “May I help you?” a woman queried, halting him in his tracks. Despite the slow Southern drawl of her voice, somehow she made the question sound more like a challenge than an offer of assistance.

  He turned and faced a pixie of a woman with very short dark hair and huge, dark eyes. If he hadn’t heard that drawl in her voice, he would have guessed her to be European. Her clothes had a French flair about them. Even though the outfit—really only jeans and a T-shirt—could easily have come from the local discount store, the low-heeled, ballet-style shoes and the artful twist of the scarf at her neck reminded him of the innate fashion sense he’d seen on the Left Bank in Paris during the summer he’d spent there after college. He had very fond memories of those days—and of the women he’d met.

  He gave her his most winning smile. “That depends. Do you happen to have any pull at this place?”

  “I’m not one of the owners, if that’s what you’re asking. Maddie meets with all prospective suppliers. I can give you her card.”

  “I’m not a supplier. I want to join.”

  “Sorry. We’re only open to women.”

  “But I see a couple of men inside,” he protested.

  “Personal trainers. They’re the only men allowed inside during business hours. I’d be happy to give you directions to Dexter’s, if you don’t know your way around town.”

  “I can find it,” he said tersely. “You know, the women-only rule is probably illegal.”

  The suggestion didn’t fluster her in the least.

  “I seriously d
oubt it,” she said, looking amused. “I’m sure that Helen Decatur—she’s also an owner—covered that when she incorporated the spa. I can give you her card, too, if you’d like.”

  Letting the legal issues pass for the moment, Tom studied her speculatively, allowing his gaze to linger in a way meant to disconcert her. “When do you offer me your card?”

  “I don’t, unless you happen to be peddling skin creams, aromatherapy products or spa attire. Unfortunately, we’ve already established that you’re not.”

  There was a gloating note in her voice that irked him. Instead of letting his irritation show, he turned on his charm. “That is a shame, isn’t it? Maybe we can find something else we have in common.”

  The amusement in her remarkable eyes vanished. “I doubt that,” she said coolly. “Have a good evening.”

  She opened the door, stepped inside, then shut it very firmly in his face. He had a hunch if the spa hadn’t been open for another hour, she’d have turned the lock, as well.

  Tom stared after her. His annoyance over the spa’s discrimination against men had suddenly taken a backseat to his fascination with the feisty woman who’d just brushed him off. As the presumed heir to the McDonald fortune, he hadn’t had a lot of experience with rejection, especially in the upper echelons of Charleston society. He discovered he didn’t like it. Coming on top of his losing battle with the mayor, it really soured his mood.

  His father would say that the day he’d just had in Serenity was no worse than he deserved for not following the more illustrious career path that had been chosen for him at birth. It was the image of the gloating expression he’d likely find on his father’s face that stiffened his spine and made him resolve to make tomorrow better. He had a lot to prove, not just to his father, but to himself.

  He’d come to Serenity because he cared about towns like this. He thought he had something to offer. His years as a planning administrator and as a chief financial officer in another community had prepared him to run Serenity and deal with whatever issues might face the community. If he had to do battle with a demanding mayor and suffer a little rejection at the hands of an intriguing woman, he could handle it.