Sherryl Woods - Welcome to Serenity

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 committee.”

“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.

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,” Mabel 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.