Page 8 of The Cottage on Pelican Bay

Saint knew one of the reasons Reid had chosen Vaughn as successor, rather than choosing one of the men who’d worked for the company a lot longer, was because Reid trusted Vaughn to not only take the company to the next level, but also to preserve its legacy for Reid’s twin granddaughters. Vaughn had been Reid’s deceased son’s best friend and was godfather to the twins.

“Good morning, Saint,” a feminine voice said as he rounded the corner.

He glanced over at the older woman sitting behind the huge administrative assistant desk and gave her a cheerful response. “Good morning, Mrs. Dorsett.”

The woman shook her head. “Will you ever feel comfortable enough to call me Kate like everyone else around here?”

“No,” he answered truthfully. Kate Dorsett’s son Brody, who’d graduated from high school the year before Saint, had been one of his playmates while growing up in Catalina Cove. To Saint, the attractive older woman sitting behind the desk had always been known as Brody’s mom or Mrs. Dorsett. Old habits were hard to break.

The Toussaints and Dorsetts—who were part French, African and Spanish—had been born and raised in the bayou, and the two families still resided there. Their ancestors had been known as Bayou Creoles. When Saint moved back to the cove, he had purchased a four-bedroom home on five acres that was located on mossy property connected to a bayou. It was close enough to his parents, and within a mile of the major roadway that took you to the business district of Catalina Cove where he worked.

“Well, you still have five months to get on the bandwagon before I’m out of here,” she said.

Mrs. Dorsett had begun working for the company as Reid Lacroix’s father’s secretary. Then when Reid took things over when his father passed away, she’d become his administrative assistant and had held that position for close to thirty years. Now that Reid was retiring, he had convinced Mrs. Dorsett to do the same.

Her husband had passed away a few years ago, and she’d wanted to keep working to stay busy. “How’s Brody?” he asked.

“He’s still single, and I’m still not a grandmother, so what does that tell you?”

“Now you sound like my mom,” Saint said, amused.

He just hoped Mrs. Dorsett hadn’t taken to playing matchmaker like his mother was doing. He had threatened to change his cell phone number if she gave it to one more eligible prospect from her church. He was getting at least three to four calls a week from women inviting him over to dinner.

“If I do it’s because Irene and I pray constantly that there’s hope for you and Brody yet,” Mrs. Dorsett said, breaking into his thoughts.

“If it had been left up to me, I would have been married years ago.” He knew he could say that to her since Mrs. Dorsett and his mother were childhood friends and talked all the time. There was no doubt in his mind that she knew about his two marriage proposals Mia had turned down.

“Well, some people don’t know what they got until they lose it. It was her loss and I believe one day she will see that. Now, with Brody it’s another story. No woman has ever gotten a marriage proposal out of him. He’s not getting any younger.”

“Well, that’s something you can’t rush these days. No matter how old you are.”

“What?”

“Love.”

“Umm, maybe I need to put a fire under Brody’s behind.”

He laughed. “I wouldn’t do that if I were you. Need I remind you that Brody is Catalina Cove’s fire marshal? You put fire anywhere near him and he’ll put it out.”

She waved off his words. “Whatever. By the way, Vaughn wants to see you. I almost forgot to tell you.”

He doubted that was true. Mrs. Dorsett never forgot anything. Like the time he fell out of that tree in her yard at the age of ten and ended up with a broken arm, which she reminded him of on occasion. Professionally, she was as sharp and efficient as they came. He knew she would be missed when she retired along with Reid. She had the ability to make the lives of every one of Reid’s executive team members much easier.

“Thanks for letting me know,” he said, pivoting to head toward Vaughn’s office. He knocked when he reached the door.

“Come in.” Vaughn tossed the papers he was looking at aside when he saw him. “I take it you survived the dentist,” he said as if amused.

Saint took the chair Vaughn offered to him. “Yes, but I wish Reid would have that same talk with Dr. Wilcox that he had with Mrs. Dorsett. It’s time for him to retire. I recall going to him as a kid.”

Vaughn barely held back a laugh. “We all did. He claims he’ll retire as soon as someone comes along to take over his dental practice.”

“That’s what I heard as well. So far none of the applications I’ve gotten for low-interest loans have been for dentists. However, I am keeping my fingers crossed.”

Vaughn leaned back in his chair. “I heard that a lot of people are applying for teaching positions.”

“Are you surprised after the school board voted to give all teachers a huge pay raise? They can thank Reid for maneuvering that,” Saint said, amused. “Now Catalina Cove pays their teachers more than any city in Louisiana. Anyone applying, who was born and raised here, and returning to the cove to live, is a shoo-in if they have the right credentials.”

Vaughn grinned. “When Reid speaks everybody listens. That will teach the school board members a lesson for going along with Webb Crawford’s foolishness regarding Velvet. That put them on Reid’s shit list, and at his recommendation, every last one of them retired except Marcie Connors, the lone woman on the board. Since she hadn’t been told by the other school board members what the meeting was about, she wasn’t asked to retire,” he said.

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