Darlene Gardner - That Runaway Summer

“She was at the Pollocks’ the other night when they had me over for a barbecue.” Dan shifted in his seat. “She’s nice.”

“That she is,” Stanley agreed.

“So what is it you wanted to discuss?” Dan changed the subject before the other vet could say more. “How business is too good?”

“Exactly.” Stanley stabbed the air with his finger. “We’re too busy. I had to tell a farmer last week we couldn’t take on his animals. There isn’t enough time in the day.”

Jill was directly in Dan’s line of vision. She angled her head and laughed at something the pharmacist said. Was the guy really that funny? He forced himself to concentrate on the conversation at his table.

“Are you thinking of hiring another vet?” Dan asked.

The present practice had long been a two-man operation, with Dan replacing a vet who had retired a year ago. Stanley and Dan had met at a professional conference, a connection that led to the job offer at a time Dan was badly in need of a scenery change.

“Can’t,” Stanley said. “Don’t have the office space for it and don’t want to find a bigger place. I’m thinking of retooling.”

Dam stopped trying to figure out the significance of the way Jill was leaning forward and concentrated on Stanley. “What do you mean retooling?”

“Bob Verducci gave me a call the other day,” Stanley said. Verducci had a practice a few miles outside town that also treated both large and small animals. “Fewer people are bringing their pets to him, so he’s switching to large animals only.”

“Will that have any effect on us?”

“Sure will. You know how the hours build up when you’re driving to ranches and stables. If we go small, we can cut way down on the length of our work days.”

Dan frowned, although Stanley’s reasoning made perfect sense. “I enjoy working with large animals.”

“We won’t drop that part of our practice entirely,” Stanley said. “Bob will handle the bulk of calls for farm animals and horses, but he’ll occasionally need backup.”

“Why don’t we split the work fifty-fifty?”

The young waitress appeared at their table, wisps of hair escaping her ponytail. She set one plate of bruschetta and another of mozzarella sticks on the table. “Your appetizers.”

“They look great,” Dan said, then added gently, “except we didn’t order appetizers.”

Her face blanching, she immediately scooped up the plates. “I’m so sorry. I guess you can tell it’s my first day.”

“It’s not a big deal,” Dan rushed to reassure her. “You’ll get the hang of it in no time.”

“You really think so?” Her voice sounded small.

“I do,” Dan said. “You already have the tableside manner down.”

The waitress was smiling when she left them.

Stanley pointed his index finger at Dan and declared, “That’s why a fifty-fifty split won’t work.”

“Come again?”

“That charm of yours. Why do you think Verducci has been losing business? People want you to take care of their pets. You enjoy that kind of work, too, don’t you?”

“I do,” Dan confirmed.

“Then there’s no problem,” Stanley said. “You can take the occasional call when Verducci needs help. The rest of the time, you won’t have to work so late.”

“I don’t mind working late.” Just last week Dan had been up half the night helping a cow through a difficult birth.

“All you’ve done since you got here is work,” Stanley said. “Look at it this way. It’ll free up your time so you can ask out Jill over there.”

“What makes you think I want to do that?”

Stanley’s laugh rumbled forth. “Besides the way you’re staring at her?”

“She’s pretty,” Dan said lamely.

“So go for it,” Stanley said. “Stop working so hard and have some fun.”

The young waitress made another pass by their table, presenting Dan with a calzone and setting an individual pepperoni pizza in front of Stanley.

“Wrong again, sweetheart,” Stanley said. “We both ordered fettuccine Alfredo.”

Her lower lip quivered and she appeared to fight tears as she picked up the plates. “These must belong to that couple over there. Forgive me. Please.”

“Don’t give it another thought,” Dan said, but she was already moving away.

Nothing but linoleum floor stretched between the waitress and the table where Jill dined with the pharmacist. There was absolutely no reason the girl should stumble, but she did. The calzone, the pizza and the plates went momentarily airborne, then clattered to the floor.

Dan leaped up from his chair, reaching the scene of the calamity in seconds. Jill was already there, her hand supporting the young girl’s elbow. “Are you all right?”

“I’m fine,” the waitress wailed, “but the food’s ruined!”

“Don’t you worry about that.” Jill patted her arm soothingly. Today she was dressed in another eye-catching outfit: pink, turquoise and white madras shorts that skimmed her knees, a lacy turquoise camisole blouse and dangling earrings. “Everyone makes mistakes when they start out waitressing. If they say they don’t, they’re lying.”

“Really?”

“Really,” Jill said.

Dan bent, retrieved the tray, an overturned plate and the calzone. Jill crouched beside him, picking up the other plate and the pizza, which had miraculously landed tomato-sauce side up.

“If it isn’t my matchmaker’s choice.” Jill’s smile was impish, the light reaching eyes he now realized were green.

“But not yours,” he said.

“Ditto.” She kept smiling at him, appearing genuinely glad to run into him. If he’d learned one thing about her in their short acquaintance, though, it was that she was unfailingly friendly. “Where did you come from?”

He gestured behind them. “I’m having lunch with my boss. I would have waved, but your back was to me.”

“Likely story.” She winked at him. “Oops. Shouldn’t have done that. Don’t worry. I stand by what I said the other night. You’re safe from my attentions.”

Yet she obviously welcomed the pharmacist’s interest.

“Thanks so much for helping me pick this up,” the waitress said to them both, taking the tray from Dan. “You two are the best.”

“Hang in there.” Jill got to her feet and Dan followed suit. “Once you get over the opening-day jitters, you’ll make a fabulous waitress.”

The girl beamed at her. Dan found himself smiling at Jill, too, and curiously reluctant to part from her once the waitress headed back to the kitchen.

“One more thing before I go.” Jill’s eyes opened so wide that white was visible all around the green irises. “Beware the matchmaker. We’ve got some breathing room because she’s leaving for Hawaii soon, but she’s not convinced we aren’t perfect for each other. She might try another ambush.”

She grinned and turned back to her table before Dan could say anything. That was probably a good thing, because he should keep the response that came to mind to himself until he figured out what to do about it.

Because if Penelope made another stab at setting him up with Jill, he’d be all for it.

“SO WHAT DID YOU WANT to talk to me about?” Jill kept her attention fixed on Chad, fighting the temptation to turn around and sneak another look at Dan.

So far, Jill had done most of the talking. She didn’t mind. Chad was a quiet sort. If she didn’t press him on the reason he’d asked her to lunch, however, the bill might arrive before he got around to discussing the subject.

He adjusted his wire-rimmed glasses. Was he stalling for time? Could Penelope have been right? Was Chad screwing up his courage to tell her he was interested, that he viewed their lunch as a first date?