Something to Prove Read online

  Dinner at Bodine’s had been nice, as it was a real “first date” kind of place, the kind of restaurant a man took a woman to when he was trying to impress her. But for a second date, Ryan decided the Frosty Freeze would work nicely. After all, it was exactly the place he’d have taken her if he’d screwed up the courage in high school.

  Helena, though, had balked. Not at the food or the idea that it was a big step down from Bodine’s, but that it would be very public. The small portion of Magnolia Beach who hadn’t heard about their first date—or hadn’t believed the reports—would know about it soon enough. Since Helena was sticking with her argument that this could somehow come to bite him in the ass, it had taken some convincing—and more than one prod between her shoulder blades.

  He’d dealt with less recalcitrant mules. But, once again, he’d ended up with a great sense of accomplishment once Helena was seated at one of the battered picnic tables. There had been a few curious looks from some of the other diners, but they’d gawked, nodded, and gone back to their own lives and food.

  Helena was nearly halfway through with her burger before she finally seemed to loosen up.

  “See, it’s not so bad, is it?”

  “The burger is great. I know it’s so bad for me, but I just can’t manage to care all that much.”

  “I meant coming here.”

  “It’s everything my teenage heart ever dreamed about.”

  He could have called her on the sarcasm, but instead he grinned. “So you used to dream about me, huh?”

  “Only that time I ate bad scallops from the old Tanker restaurant. It was a long night.”

  “Funny.”

  She grinned and daintily ate a French fry. “But in answer to your first question, it’s fine. I’ll never be elected prom queen, but no one’s flinging holy water in my direction, either. That’s good enough for me. Let’s talk about something else, though. I can’t be the only thing of interest in Magnolia Beach.”

  Hadn’t he gotten onto his family for exactly the same thing? Helena, though, was the main thing of interest in Magnolia Beach for him—albeit for different reasons entirely. Still, surely there had to be something for them to talk about that didn’t include the past, her ongoing reentry into Magnolia Beach’s society, and her grandmother’s house or health. It took him a second, though. “How’s business? Are you getting caught up?”

  “I am. Finally. Mrs. Wilson has proven herself to be quite the community organizer, and I’m back to having at least part of my day to myself to work. She’s also very adamant that I get out of the house and go do fun things—like this, for instance—because she says it’s unhealthy not to.”

  “I remember when Mr. Wilson was sick. She probably knows all about caregiver’s fatigue.”

  “Exactly. I’m also being careful to limit the number of jobs I’m taking on right now. It’s less money overall, but I’m keeping my clients happy, so that’s probably more important at this point. Mrs. Wilson says it’s all about balance.”

  “I didn’t realize you and Mrs. Wilson had become such confidantes.”

  “She’s been a godsend. I wish I’d gone to her sooner for advice.”

  He was having a hard time processing that statement, but Helena said it so offhandedly and naturally that it had to be true.

  “I’d like to do something nice for her, just to partly say thanks,” Helena continued.

  “I doubt she’s expecting anything. Mrs. Wilson loves giving orders and advice. That you’re following any of it is probably thanks enough.”

  Helena laughed. “I know. But I also know she was recently elected president of the historical society. I was thinking I could design a new header for the Web site or something. What do you think?”

  The historical society. He hadn’t thought about them in days, and it had been quite nice. “I’m sure she and the rest of the ladies would appreciate it.”

  “But . . . ?” she asked. When he didn’t answer, she added, “I know they’re not thrilled with you right now, but I’m not sure why. From the look on your face, it goes both ways.”

  “How do you know they’re unhappy?”

  “It’s a small town. I hear things.” She shrugged. “I don’t always understand what I’m hearing, but I hear it nonetheless. What did you do?”

  “Why do you assume I did something?”

  She laughed. “Because a bunch of sweet little old ladies are upset with you. You had to have done something, and you’re too old for it to be mischief or foolishness.”

  “It’s complicated.” Helena drank her milk shake and waited for more. He sighed. “The historical society wants to pass a historic overlay that would cover a good portion of Magnolia Beach. The Chamber of Commerce does not like their regulations. The council is divided. The historical society feels I’m not supporting them strongly enough.”

  “Do you not want the overlay restrictions in place? Magnolia Beach seems like the perfect place for that.”

  “It’s complicated. The quaint old-town charm is part of our attraction to tourists, but the breadth of their regulations could stifle businesses.”

  Helena nodded in understanding. “So that’s why the Chamber is against it.”

  “No one is really against the idea of historic overlay, but the Chamber doesn’t want it applied so widely. They feel business owners can be trusted to walk the line between preservation and innovation without municipal oversight.”

  “What about the businesses that are primarily dependent on tourism?”

  “It’s a mix of support, some for, some against. Most aren’t totally against it, but they also want some leeway to keep us attractive to tourists in the future.”

  “And where do you stand on this?”

  “Somewhere in the middle—which is not really acceptable to either side.”

  “But that’s the proper place for the mayor to be. Trying to find a compromise that benefits everyone and keeps the best interests of Magnolia Beach as a whole in mind.”

  “I wish everyone else thought that.”

  “I’m sure they do. But in a negotiation, your opening stance has to be extreme. It gives you the chance to relent on some things to make you look reasonable while you protect the core demands you know you won’t cede. A clever mayor just needs to tease out what those core demands are and build a compromise around them. Let them bicker and argue for a while, and when you present your middle-ground solution, you’ll look like a sensible, grounded, in-everyone’s-best-interests hero.”

  It seemed Helena knew about more than just graphic design. “That’s basically my plan. We’re just not there yet. Right now, it’s just endless meetings and e-mails flooding my in-box.”

  “I did some work for the Chamber of Commerce for a small town in west Georgia last year. At the time, it reminded me a lot of Magnolia Beach, but they had some really neat ways of incorporating the new into the old and keeping it all harmonious and aesthetically pleasing. If you want, I could send you their links and info. Seeing how it works somewhere else might help both sides envision something like that working here.”

  “That’d be great, Helena. Thanks.”

  “No problem.” She cut her eyes at him. “If you want, I can even casually mention it to Mrs. Wilson—in the context of designing new headers and such.”

  Helena caring about—much less getting indirectly involved—in Magnolia Beach business? What was next? Pigs flying? Ice skating in hell? “It couldn’t hurt.”

  After one last suck on her milk shake to make sure the very last of it was gone, Helena gathered up her trash off the table. “I’ve got a little time before I need to be back at the house. Want to walk down to the Shore?”

  Strap on the skates and check the skies for swine. Forget dinner at Bodine’s. This was now an official Magnolia Beach date.

  And he hadn’t had to prod her into it.
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  * * *

  When Ryan pulled in to the parking lot and cut the engine, Tank knew where he was and sent a warning growl at him from his perch on the center console.

  “Necessary evil, dude,” Ryan said before scooping him up. There was no way Tank would go into the vet’s office on his own four feet, and dragging him through the parking lot on a leash was beneath their dignity. Tank continued to growl low in this throat, his lips curling up into a snarl that showed his teeth, showing his displeasure to everyone they passed in the parking lot.

  “Hey, Tank. Who’s a good boy?” Jenny Blake asked as Ryan signed in. Tank’s tail wagged once to acknowledge her; then he went back to snarling in everyone’s general direction. “And how are you, Ryan?”

  “Great.”

  “Good. Tate will be with you in just a minute.”

  “No problem.”

  “Uh, Ryan . . .” Jenny looked downright uncomfortable. “Can I talk to you for a second?”

  “Sure.”

  “Privately?” This was weird, but he nodded, and she waved him around the counter and into one of the exam rooms. “This is kind of awkward, but . . .”

  It wasn’t like Jenny to beat around the bush. “What’s up?”

  “You’re a wonderful guy, and I’d really like us to be friends.”

  Huh? “I thought we were already.”

  “Yeah, but, you see, I have a boyfriend. He goes to school in Mobile, but we’ve been together for about six months now.”

  Okay. “Congratulations.”

  “So, I’m flattered. I really am. Maybe we can just stay friends instead.”

  “Jenny, I’m lost. What are you talking about?”

  “Well, Shelby came in with Cupid this morning and we were talking and she said that we should . . . I mean, she kind of implied that you thought I was . . . Wow, this is really awkward.”

  The realization hit him like a truck. “I’m going to kill her. Jenny, you are lovely, and your boyfriend is an extremely lucky man to have you. Shelby, however, has way overstepped her boundaries and is meddling without permission. I’m sorry she made you feel awkward, but . . .” Damn, there is simply no good way to tell a woman you aren’t interested in her without making it sound like an insult. “I’m happy for you to forget she said anything at all. In fact, I’m begging you to forget it.”

  “Oh.” And there was the mixture of relief and insult. “I’m glad to hear it. I did think it was a little strange since you just went out with Helena Wheeler. . . .”

  So Shelby was telling him he could do better and taking it upon herself to find that “better” woman for him. He really was going to strangle her this time. Good Lord. And while there was nothing particularly wrong with Jenny Blake, there was definitely something wrong with dating anyone you used to babysit. He repressed a shudder. “Shelby isn’t Helena’s biggest fan.”

  “That makes sense, then.” Jenny sighed. “I feel much better. Not that you’re not a great catch,” she quickly added.

  “Can we just stop now? Pretend this didn’t happen?”

  “Done.” She opened the door again, then paused and looked at him and smiled. “But I think it’s great about you and Helena.”

  Not knowing whether Jenny was the type to feed grist into the rumor mill, he went with the far safer disclaimer of, “It’s just a couple of dinners. Let’s not get carried away.”

  “Fair enough.” She held the door for him. “Have a seat. It’ll be just another minute.”

  Fortunately, there weren’t a lot of patients in the waiting room, so Ryan wasn’t going to be forced to make small talk with the owners or try to keep Tank from picking a fight with a Rottweiler. As Tank sniffed around at the end of his leash, Ryan took the time to text Shelby.

  Stop it. Now. Do not try to fix me up.

  He put the phone away as he didn’t expect a reply. Shelby didn’t text unless she had to, but maybe this could prevent any further embarrassment until he had the chance to call her. Lord knew, it wasn’t a conversation he wanted to have in the waiting room of the vet clinic.

  Jenny called them back into an exam room a few minutes later, and he lifted Tank up onto the table over the dog’s protests. While Tank may have put up a small fight with him, the vet tech—a young blonde he vaguely recognized as one of the Masterson girls—won Tank over quickly, cooing at him until Tank rolled over for a belly rub.

  “What a sweet boy,” she said, rubbing Tank’s chest. Then, looking at Ryan, she added, “I’m going to take him to the back for his shots, and the doc will bring him back when we’re done for any questions you might have. He looks great to me, but you do need to get him scheduled for a teeth cleaning. He’s got some tartar buildup.” She handed him a brochure on doggie dental care, scooped up Tank, and left.

  Oh, Tank is going to just love having his teeth cleaned. He flipped through the brochure, surprised to find out he was supposed to be brushing Tank’s teeth with a special toothbrush and paste every other day. Who had time for that?

  The scrabbling of tiny toenails against the tile told him Tank was returning, and when Tate opened the door, Tank limped over to him, drooping his head pitifully and favoring his front foot.

  “He’s fine, I promise,” Tate said. “That’s not even where he got the shot.”

  “He’s a bit of a drama queen.” But he picked Tank up anyway and rubbed his nose.

  “Everything looks fine. He’s starting to edge up to the upper end of his weight class, though, so you might want to watch his food intake. Otherwise, he’s good. Any questions for me?”

  Tate was being very professional, but not his normal self, and Ryan had no question as to why. Everyone in town seemed to know about him and Helena, and he had to assume that everyone included Tate. It wasn’t a subject he could just broach with Tate, though. Not without seeming insincere or gloating. But it felt like something needed to be said nonetheless.

  Surprisingly, Tate broached the subject. “I should probably tell you that Shelby was in here this morning.”

  “Yeah, I know. I’ve already apologized to Jenny. Shelby really needs to find a new hobby.”

  “We had an interesting conversation as well.”

  Whoa. Had Shelby really lost her mind? Bitching about Helena to the one person in town who was definitely on her team? “Then maybe I should apologize to you, too.”

  Tate snorted. “At least she didn’t try to fix me up with you.”

  The amusement caught Ryan off guard. Maybe this is not a big deal. He laughed. “You’re not my type.”

  Tate’s humor died. “Neither is Helena, and that didn’t stop you.”

  So, no, then. And since Tate didn’t see the need to beat around the bush, neither did he. “I know how things are between you and Helena, but that really has nothing to do with me.”

  “Actually, it does. Friends look out for each other, and first and foremost, Helena’s my friend. I watched her back for years, and that won’t change now.”

  Tank, either bored or picking up on the tension, wiggled around, and Ryan let him jump back to the exam table, where he trotted over to Tate for petting before settling in the middle to thoroughly lick himself. Ryan looked at Tate. “Are we going to have a problem?”

  “That depends on whether or not Helena gets hurt.”

  “I assure you I have no intention of hurting her.”

  “That’s nice to hear, but it doesn’t exactly ease my mind. Being back here has been hard enough on her. Getting mixed up with you probably wasn’t the best choice she could make in order for things to be easier for her.”

  He hadn’t thought about that. Helena’s objections had never included how she might be hit from the fallout. “I think she’s strong enough to handle it.”

  “Of course you do.”

  The words were simple, but the tone was snide. “What the hell do you
mean by that?”

  “Like she doesn’t have enough on her plate to deal with right now with Ms. Louise’s injuries and coming back to a place that treats her like the devil’s spawn? Hell, your cousin was in here this morning trying to fix you up with my receptionist and any other single woman who happened to be in the waiting room simply because the two of you have been doing dinners. Do you think that’s going to be good for her ego?”

  “I’ll take care of Shelby—”

  “Really? Because she asked me to see if I could get Helena to back off. She tried to couch it in the nicest possible terms, but in reality it was all about you and your reputation being sullied by hers.”

  “I’m going to kill her.”

  “Yeah, well, in the meantime, someone has to look out for Helena’s best interests. You might be surprised to hear that I agree with Shelby, albeit for different reasons. Helena is probably better off without you.”

  “Helena’s a big girl. She can decide for herself what’s better for her.”

  “And when this goes to hell and you go back to your regularly scheduled life, I’ll still be the one helping her pick up the pieces, because that’s what friends do.”

  Tate’s defense of Helena would have been heartening if Tate hadn’t been painting him as the bad guy. He felt unfairly vilified. In a moment of clarity, he knew it was a small taste of Helena’s life, and it was pretty damn bitter and hard to swallow. “I happen to care about Helena.”

  That was a news flash, even to him. Oh, he knew he liked her well enough and was certainly having a good time, but he wasn’t aware it had shifted to care. Or when it had. But the weight in those words was obvious even to him, and it left him reeling a little in the wake of that truth.

  “Good.” Tate didn’t sound fully convinced, though. “Then we won’t have a problem.” He gave Tank one last pat, completely changing the subject and moving on. “And we’ll see you in six months for his Bordetella booster.”

  Tank walked out under his own steam, which was nice, as Ryan had a lot to think about. Helena had always been a force of nature and about as predictable as one, but he hadn’t fully prepared himself to embrace that hurricane. And he certainly hadn’t thought about the blowback on Helena—mainly because she didn’t seem concerned about it as she would be leaving soon enough anyway.