SUSAN MEIER - Marrying Money

The only problem was, the woman he liked didn’t want to see him. Of course, he had already figured out the formula to fix that. All Tanner had to do was keep her confused about his purposes for being around her until she realized he was a nice guy who deserved a date or two. Hell, if push came to shove, Tanner could find a branch of Save the Whales and take her to a meeting. That kind of gesture was exactly what he needed. It would prove he was benevolent and it would also be a way to spend time with her.

He glanced at Joe, deciding inside help was standing right in front of him. Though Joe thought a date with Bailey was an impossible dream, he had all kinds of facts at his disposal that Tanner could use to take it from impossible to possible.

He put his arm around Joe’s shoulder and led him in the direction of the diner. “Can I buy you lunch?”

“I already ate.”

“How about a cup of coffee?”

Joe shrugged. “I could drink a cup.”

“Good,” Tanner said, then he smiled. He would get Miss Bailey Stephenson to see he was a nice guy. And when he did, she would be glad, because a date with him wasn’t exactly torture. Most of the women he dated thought he was fun…interesting…lots of good stuff. This time next week, Bailey would be thanking him.

Darkness had descended by the time Bailey arrived at the church hall for the revitalization committee meeting that night. As she had suspected, there was a late-afternoon rush of women who wanted her to remove the pins from their upswept hair and wash out the spray gel that had kept the style alive for over twenty-four hours.

She’d shampooed heads, treasure hunted hairpins and carefully combed out tangles for hours, and she was beat. Sure that the meeting would be over by the time she left the shop, it was only a formality that she drove up the hill to the church. When she saw the lights were still on in the hall, duty and responsibility wouldn’t let her turn around and drive away. She parked her SUV, climbed out and headed inside.

The red, white and blue streamers from the celebration the night before were gone and so were the white plastic table covers. All that remained was a utilitarian cement block structure, lit only enough to accommodate the meeting, and furnished with rows of empty tables and green folding chairs.

As she walked through the entryway, she saw Tanner McConnell. Looking like a king holding court with his subjects, he sat at the head of the first long table. The six men in attendance with him made two columns of rapt attention down the table’s sides.

When Tanner saw her, he grinned. “Hey, Bailey, come on in.”

“Yeah, Bailey, where have you been?” Artie Thorpe asked, sounding annoyed with her.

“I’ve been shampooing hair. Making a living,” she said as she took the seat farthest away from Tanner. She didn’t have to be a genius to know what was going on here. He was following her. He couldn’t get her to go out with him, so he came to her meeting.

“Tanner has been generous enough to volunteer to be a part of our group until he leaves for Florida,” Artie said.

Bailey only gave Tanner a deadpan look, telling him with her expression that she knew what he was doing. Tanner raised his coffee cup as if toasting.

“You missed two hours’ worth of his good ideas.”

“Oh, they weren’t that good,” Tanner said, waving away the praise. “The things I told you were just plain old-fashioned business sense, that’s all.”

“Business sense most of us don’t have,” Doug McDonald said. And in some way, shape or form everybody at the table agreed with him because they were laborers who worked in the factory in a neighboring city. They weren’t company owners or even supervisors at the plant. The only one at the table with any kind of business experience was Bailey. Until Tanner’s appearance, she was the one everyone wanted to hear.

“I think we’re very lucky to have you here on the committee,” Artie said, and that was when Bailey remembered that Artie was married to Tanner’s ex-wife. The woman Tanner had left behind. She took a minute to consider that it was generous of Artie to forgive Tanner for hurting Emmalee, then realized Artie wouldn’t be married to Em if Tanner hadn’t divorced her. And the truth was no one really knew that Tanner hadn’t asked Emma to go with him when he left for New York ten years ago. All Emma ever said was that Tanner had moved on to bigger and better things. Everybody assumed he hadn’t asked her to move on with him. If he had and she refused, everything about this situation would be backward. Right now it would take great effort for Tanner to be nice to Artie, not the other way around.

“So, anyway,” Tanner was saying when Bailey came out of her thoughts. “I have to hang around long enough to make sure that the erosion and sedimentation controls are properly installed in the banks of the stream at the back of my parents’ property. Then the lane to the house has to be rebuilt.” He stopped to laugh. “The flood left ruts and dips that won’t go away without the help of several pieces of heavy equipment and about eighteen tons of gravel.” He grimaced. “My exhaust system and I found that out the hard way.”

“Yeah, too bad about your car,” Doug said. “You’ll have to talk with Frank in the morning, but I’m pretty sure he doesn’t stock Mercedes parts.”

“I think you’re looking at being in Wilmore at least a month,” Artie said, pretending to be sympathetic.

Tanner playfully punched his arm. “Don’t kid a kidder. You’re glad I’m forced to be around that long because you want my help.”

Artie grinned. “I won’t lie and say I don’t.”

“Good,” Tanner said. “Then I won’t lie and say I’m not flattered that you asked for my help,” he added, and Bailey felt a flash of appreciation and respect for Tanner. He might have joined this committee to be with her, but he really did intend to do his part. And not in a condescending fashion, but like one of the team.

Oh, Lord, now he had done it! By joining the committee he tricked her into seeing he was a normal guy, not an icon, not a prince. Just a guy. If she refused to go out with him, she wouldn’t be rejecting an image or a personality, she would be rejecting a real person, someone she had to deal with and see at least twice a week for the next three weeks.

Tanner yawned and stretched. “Well, it looks like this good country air has me a little more tired than I’m used to.”

“It’s the mountains,” Doug said.

Tanner nodded. “Probably.”

“Let’s adjourn the meeting, then,” Artie said, rising from his seat.

Though Bailey had been chairperson of the renovation committee, which had been responsible for overseeing flood repairs, everyone had agreed that Artie, as mayor, was a better choice as head of the revitalization committee.

“We’ll meet again Wednesday night. Any objections?” he asked, glancing around.

Because Wednesday night was the only weeknight Bailey was available, she certainly didn’t have any objections and was grateful when no one else had any, either. They took the adjournment to a vote, it passed unanimously, and everyone started shuffling toward the door.

“Are you ready, Tanner?” Artie asked, fishing his car keys out of his pocket.

“Actually, Artie,” Tanner said. “Since Bailey has an SUV it might be better if she took me home. Your van drove in a little low, and that lane really is nothing but ruts and mud pits. I’ll just ride home with Bailey.” He turned, smiled at her. “You don’t mind, do you?”

Doing favors was such a natural thing for Bailey that without thinking she assured him it was no problem. But as soon as the words were out of her mouth, she felt uncomfortable about them. He might be a real person to her now, and he might even be someone willing to help the town, but regardless of how “real” he was or how nice he was, they were still strangers. And he had finagled a ride home with her. Down some of the darkest, loneliest roads in the county.