Something to Prove Read online

  A few people were seated around the room, two holding cat carriers that emitted ominous hissing noises from their depths, and a small child cuddled a clearly obese guinea pig in his lap. An old, gray-muzzled Labrador lay at the feet of his equally old owner, and a puppy bounced at the end of his leash.

  I should have called first. The habits of Magnolia Beach drop-by visits had infiltrated her brain so much that she’d forgotten Tate would actually be working while at work. She turned to leave.

  “Can I help you?” the young woman behind the desk called out, waving her over.

  “I dropped by to talk to Tate for a second, but he’s obviously busy—”

  “Actually, I think we’re in a bit of a holding pattern at the moment. Want me to see if he’s got a minute or two for you, Helena?”

  The sound of her name brought her up short. Carefully, she searched the woman’s face, but she didn’t look familiar. Even the name tag JENNY didn’t help shake anything loose. “I’m very sorry, but I don’t remember who you are.” Just please tell me I didn’t do something mean and horrible to you.

  Jenny laughed. “Oh, there’s no reason you should remember me. I was just a kid when you left.”

  Jeez, you’re still a kid. Why did she suddenly feel as ancient as the Labrador and his owner?

  “I’m Jenny Blake. My grandmother plays bridge with your grandmother.”

  The last time she’d seen Jenny Blake, Jenny had still had most of her baby teeth. Helena could almost hear her joints starting to creak with age. “Oh my, I didn’t recognize you at all.”

  “Well, you haven’t changed a bit,” Jenny said, picking up the phone and hitting a button. “Whatever your skin care regime is, please share it with the rest of us. Tate, Helena’s here and wants to know if you have a minute.”

  She’d automatically braced herself after the “you haven’t changed a bit” comment, only to have it followed by what had to be the nicest phrase that had ever followed those words. Helena was feeling pretty good as Jenny waved her around the counter. “End of the hall. Welcome home.”

  Tate was at his desk, scrolling through something on a tablet, a little concentration crease between his eyebrows that she remembered well from before. He looked so grown-up and professional, it was almost adorable: bottom of his tie tucked into his shirt, white lab coat with his name embroidered in script above the breast pocket. He looked up as she got to the doorway, and a Great Dane the size of a pony, wearing a cone of shame, lifted his enormous head off the pillow beside Tate’s desk.

  “Come on in. Everything okay?”

  “Yeah.” Helena sat, and the Great Dane’s head landed in her lap. He hadn’t even needed to stand up to reach her. Figuring Tate would stop her if she shouldn’t pet the dog, she carefully rubbed his muzzle. “You are ginormous.”

  “That’s why he’s in here. Sultan won’t fit in any of the cages in the back. And while it’s lovely to see you, I’ve only got a couple of minutes. What’s up?”

  Crap. Now that the moment was here, she wasn’t sure how to say it. But she didn’t have the luxury of time to go think about it, as she only had about nine hours until everyone in town would know. “I’ve got to tell you something, because I want you to hear it from me first.”

  Slightly worried, Tate leaned forward. “Okay . . .”

  “Ryan Tanner asked me to dinner.”

  “Really? Wow.” He laughed, but when she didn’t join him, his eyes widened and he sat back in his chair. “Wait, are you going?”

  “Yeah. I am.”

  Tate blinked. “Can I ask why?”

  “That’s a good question.” Pity she didn’t have a good enough answer. She couldn’t admit that she’d been sleeping with Ryan; to Tate, any Helena-and-Ryan connection was a brand-new development. And since she was only a temporary Magnolia Beach resident, “dating” seemed to be a silly thing to do. “I want to, but I’m not sure why I do.” That wasn’t a complete lie, just a different way of viewing the truth.

  There was a long, uncomfortable moment. “Are you asking for my permission?”

  “No.”

  An eyebrow went up. “Fashion advice?”

  “No.”

  “Intel on Ryan’s likes and dislikes?”

  “No.”

  “Then why the hell are you telling me this?”

  “Because . . . well, because you’re my friend, and I wanted to be the one to tell you.”

  He shook his head. “Why on earth would you feel the need to tell me about it?”

  Damn it. “You know, beats me. I guess I was afraid you would misunderstand and get your feelings hurt.”

  “There’s not a lot to misunderstand, Helena.” He shook his head. “Well, congrats. You must be thrilled.”

  “What?”

  “What better way to prove you’re no longer Hell-on-Wheels than by dating Mayor Tanner?”

  “I’m not dating him. It’s just dinner. And I’m certainly not out to prove anything.”

  He laughed at her. He actually laughed at her. “I know you well enough to know that’s not true.”

  Now she was getting annoyed. “And I know you well enough to tell you to shut the hell up and quit acting like a baby,” she snapped.

  There was a moment of silence where Tate just stared at her. “Have fun at dinner.” With that, he grabbed his tablet and left her sitting in his office with a dog’s head still in her lap.

  “That did not go well,” she told him as she scratched his ears. Sultan just stared up at her with no understanding but in complete sympathy for whatever her problem might be.

  But what had she really expected? Things with Tate weren’t supposed to be this complicated, yet somehow they were. She could only hope that Tate would get over it once the initial shock wore off. Hell, this thing with Ryan was only temporary, anyway; she had time to rebuild things with Tate—phone calls, e-mails after she went back home. She vowed she would get their friendship back into a good place for them both eventually.

  With a final pat for Sultan, she got up and headed out. Jenny waved as she passed through the reception area, where a different selection of animals and people now waited. She recognized two of them, and surprisingly, they smiled at her as she left.

  She stopped by the pharmacy to pick up Grannie’s blood pressure medication, and not only did the pharmacist—Lucy Harrow, who’d been three years behind her in school—make genuine and pleasant conversation, but so did two of the waiting customers. She recognized them as Mrs. Abernathy, the former Spanish teacher, and Mr. Colley, one of the Sunday school teachers at Grannie’s church. She’d grown accustomed to going about her business with only the required levels of Southern small talk, and this sudden change seemed odd.

  When Beth Mayers stopped her in front of the makeup counter to ask about her prices for design work, the world officially skewed sideways. She stammered through an answer, offered a business card, and dialed Molly’s number on her way out of the store. “You busy?”

  “Not really,” Molly replied. “What’s up?”

  She headed toward home. “Has the world gone crazy?” The Rileys were on their porch swing, but instead of just a hairy eyeball, Mrs. Riley gave her a tiny, reluctant wave.

  “Like how? You’re going to have to be more specific.”

  “People are talking to me. Being nice to me. They’re freaking waving at me. It’s weird.”

  “And?”

  She gave Molly a quick rundown of her morning’s conversations, intentionally leaving out the part about Tate. And Ryan. First things first.

  “You said you wanted people to just get over everything and move on. It sounds like they’re starting to. How is this bad?”

  “I didn’t say it was bad. I said it was weird. Beth Mayers never liked me, and Mr. Colley told me flat-out when I was nineteen that I was probably going to hell. Yet
all of a sudden, today everyone’s being all nice and friendly.”

  “Again, I ask, how is that bad?”

  “Because it’s freaking me out. What the hell is going on?”

  Molly laughed, then cleared her throat. “Look, as the proprietor of a place where people congregate and converse, I often overhear conversations—”

  That stopped Helena in her tracks. “About me?”

  “While I normally would treat what I overhear with the sanctity of the confessional—”

  “Yeah, yeah, yeah. Spill.”

  “I’ve noticed a turning of opinion recently.” Helena felt her mouth drop open. “People have been really impressed at the way you’ve rallied for your grandmother. It shows maturity, personal growth. . . .”

  “And that means . . . ?”

  “You’re garnering some goodwill, chickie.”

  She nearly dropped her phone. “That’s the craziest thing I’ve ever heard.”

  “Crazy or not, you might be turning the tide.”

  “Impossible.”

  “Yet still true. Run with it, honey. Don’t question it too much.”

  “I question everything.” She sighed. “That’s one of the reasons why Mr. Colley was convinced I was going to hell.”

  “Ah, come on. There’s nothing better than a reformed sinner.”

  “Just last week no one believed I could be reformed.”

  “Isn’t this what you wanted? Acceptance?”

  “I guess.”

  “Then quit worrying about it. Accept it graciously and move on.”

  Molly had a point. “Fine. It’s still really crazy, though.”

  “Aren’t you on record as declaring all of Magnolia Beach certifiable anyway?”

  “Pretty much.”

  “There you go.”

  If Molly didn’t think it was too crazy, maybe it wasn’t. It was just more than she was ready to deal with right now.

  “By the way,” Molly added, “there’s a band I like playing at a bar up in Tillman’s Corner tonight. Want to go with me?”

  Time to tell Molly. “Well . . .”

  Molly took her hesitation the wrong way. “Jeez. Surely you weren’t so bad that the people of Tillman’s Corner have issues with you, too.”

  That rather depended on exactly where she wanted to go and how strictly “lifetime bans” could legally be enforced. “That’s not it,” Helena hedged. “I actually have dinner plans for tonight.”

  “You and Tate?”

  “No.” She took a deep breath. “I’m going with Ryan.”

  “Ryan Tanner?” There was surprise in her voice, but a normal level of it, considering it was coming out of left field as far as anyone in Magnolia Beach knew.

  “Yeah.”

  “Whoa. That is . . . new.”

  “It’s not a big deal.”

  “Yeah, it is. When did this happen?”

  “We spent a lot of time together when he was working on the house, and we’ve gotten to know each other. He thought it might be nice to go to dinner.” She tried to sound very casual and let half-truths do the work.

  “And . . . ?” Molly prodded.

  “And what?”

  “You don’t exactly need a free meal, Helena.”

  “Are you calling me fat?” she teased.

  “You know what I mean. I got the feeling you didn’t like Ryan all that much.”

  “Like I said, I’ve gotten to know him better recently. And since I’m expecting everyone else to move past old high school crap, I should probably do the same. Why? You don’t think I should go?”

  “Of course you should go. Ryan’s a hottie. And a sweetie, too. Smart, funny, successful . . . You could find far worse dinner companions. Go for it.” She lowered her voice. “And then tell me all about it.”

  That she couldn’t quite agree to. “We’ll see. I’m going to let you get back to work, and I’m going to do the same. Talk to you later.”

  Now she just had to find someone to come sit with Grannie tonight while she was gone. Which meant she would have to tell Grannie she had a dinner date, and Grannie would definitely want to know with whom.

  Things were about to get really weird.

  Chapter 13

  Weird turned out to be a major understatement.

  Helena sat on the sofa in the front room, dressed and ready to go, making small talk with Smilin’ Cal and Grannie while waiting for Ryan to show.

  In the end, she didn’t have to find a sitter or feel guilty about it, as Grannie had come home from physical therapy to inform her that not only did she have company coming over that evening, but that she’d appreciate it if Helena could find somewhere else to be during that time.

  Just to be difficult, she’d agreed, but decided to hold back on the fact that she, too, had plans. So she’d poured tea for everyone, helped set up a table for Cal and Grannie to eat on, and participated in the social requirements.

  Finally, Grannie pinned her with a heavy stare. “You certainly look lovely. Where are you headed out to this evening?” Translation: When are you leaving?

  “Dinner. I’m not sure where, though. But Ryan will be here soon.”

  “Ryan Tanner?”

  She just loved how everyone responded with Ryan’s first and last name and a question mark. There weren’t exactly a lot of Ryans in her age group. The field was sufficiently narrow. “Yes, Grannie. Ryan Tanner.”

  “That’s wonderful. I had no idea you’d gotten so close to someone since you arrived.”

  “Yeah, well . . .” Helena cut her eyes at Cal—just enough for Grannie to notice. “I guess I just forgot to mention it.”

  Grannie frowned at her impertinence but recovered quickly. “Ryan Tanner is a very nice young man. I must say that I’m quite pleased.”

  “I knew his grandfather well,” Cal added. “He comes from a good family.”

  “Yes, he is very nice,” she answered Grannie, “and while I don’t know his family well,” she told Cal, “I do know they’re good people.”

  “Still, a dinner date with the mayor is quite an achievement,” Grannie added.

  “He’s the mayor of Magnolia Beach, not New York City.”

  “It’s still impressive, dear.”

  “I guess so. Especially for me. We all know I’ve never been popular with Magnolia Beach’s mayors before. Or the police. Or any authority figure, for that matter,” she added.

  Cal looked a little surprised at her words. It seemed her reputation hadn’t reached the over-sixty-five group of residents of Bayou La Batre, nor had Grannie filled him in. How refreshing.

  Before he could say anything, though, the clock chimed seven, and, hard on that, the doorbell rang. “Mayor Tanner is very punctual. Excuse me.” She went to open the door.

  Mercy. Ryan looked . . . well, “hot” was the only word that came to mind. Nice slacks, a button-down shirt . . . It wasn’t anything particularly fancy or high fashion, but it totally worked on him. Sexy without effort. Stylish without a hint of metrosexual. Small-town alpha-male casual without the good-old-boy, redneck vibe. There was a sweet spot, and Ryan was dead center of it.

  And, boy oh boy, was it working on her. If only her grandmother weren’t twenty feet away.

  Then he grinned, causing a disturbing little fluttering deep in her stomach. “Hey.”

  “Hey,” she echoed. Ryan leaned in like he might give her a kiss, but she stepped back quickly. “Come on in. Grannie wants to say hello.”

  Ryan straightened up immediately, a mix of surprise and caught-in-the-cookie-jar written across his face.

  “It’s nice to see you, Ryan.”

  “And you, Ms. Louise. You’re looking like you feel better.”

  “I do. Thank you.”

  “And this is Grannie’s friend, Cal Parke
r.”

  Cal stood, extending his hand to Ryan, who shook it, and Helena bit back a giggle as Cal gave Ryan a very parental look. “What plans do you two have for the evening?”

  Ryan cleared his throat. “I thought I’d take Helena to Bodine’s.”

  Grannie raised an eyebrow, impressed, as Cal nodded. Helena was impressed, too. Bodine’s wasn’t cheap, and their seafood was known to be some of the best on the Gulf Coast.

  “And what time should I expect you back, dear?” Grannie asked casually.

  “I’ll be home in time to help you get to bed. Say around tenish? Do you mind staying with Grannie until then, Cal?”

  “It will be my pleasure,” he answered. “I’d love to hear how you enjoyed Bodine’s. Tell the hostess that you’re friends of mine, and they’ll take very good care of you.”

  The subtext was so clear, it practically hung in the room like closed-captioning. We will wait up. We will know if you don’t go where you say you are. Behave yourselves. Helena felt seventeen.

  Ryan shifted uncomfortably under the unmasked stare. It seemed he was feeling a little adolescent as well. “Thank you,” Ryan said awkwardly. “We’ll do that.”

  Before this could regress any further, Helena grabbed her purse and Ryan’s hand, pulling him toward the door. “Good night. Y’all have fun.”

  “You, too,” Grannie and Cal chorused behind them as she shut the door.

  “Man, I haven’t done the ‘meet the parents’ small talk in years,” Ryan said as they walked to the car. “I’m out of practice, and I think it showed.”

  “It did,” she assured him. At his look, she defended herself. “Hey, you’re the one who wanted to do this ‘properly.’ Therefore you get to come in, meet the parental units, squirm a little. . . .”

  He shook his head. “So that’s Ms. Louise’s new boyfriend? Maybe you should be making him squirm a little, too.”

  “Unfortunately, that’s not how it works. And, anyway, I really don’t like to think about it too much. I just tell myself it’s a good thing and assume they’ll play cribbage all night. Otherwise, my head explodes.” She stopped at the car and leaned against the door. “You’re really taking me to Bodine’s?”