Page 17 of Snowflakes Over Starr's Fall
“Snooty out-of-towner? Guilty as charged, I guess. Was it the Porsche that gave it away?”
“And the Rolex, and those loafers.” She pointed at his feet. “Although they’re better than the brand-new hiking boots you wore when I saw you in The Starr Light. Did they give you blisters?”
“Yes, bad ones. I had to limp all the way back to my Porsche.”
Jenna pursed her lips. “Oh, dear.”
“Your sympathy is overwhelming.” His mouth twitched in a smile as he cocked his head, looking amused rather than offended. “Why do I feel like I’m a terrible cliché?”
Jenna gave him an innocent look, eyebrows raised. “Because you are one?”
“And you’re not?” he countered, and she let out a huff of laughter.
“Let me guess. Crazy cat-owning spinster who is as quirky as the shop she runs?”
His mouth curved and his eyes glinted, and Jenna was… affected. She tried to ignore the flutters that had started up in her middle. “Do you own a cat?” he asked.
“No.”
He laughed softly, the sound seeming to wind its way around her senses. “Well, not that cliché, I guess.”
“But another one?”
“You tell me.” It was, Jenna reflected, starting to feel like they were flirting… and she didn’t mind.
Whoa, Jenna. Remember that it’s a guy exactly like this one who broke your heart and worse, destroyed your confidence? You want to go there again?
Not that she had any intention of anything happening between her and Jack. A little innocent flirting was one thing…
“Tell you what,” Jack said, one hand tucked in the pocket of his pressed khakis, the epitome of relaxed confidence. “Why don’t you come to dinner one night this week and we can discuss how I think you could improve the mercantile? I’ll do my best not to sound like a know-it-all, and I won’t even charge you my usual management fee.”
Jenna was reeling from realizing she’d just been asked on the approximation of a date, so it took her a moment to ask, “And what is your usual management fee, out of curiosity?”
“Two percent of the invested funds I’m managing.”
“Considering what’s in my bank account, you wouldn’t be getting much,” Jenna replied. Had he really just asked her todinner? Jack just smiled, waiting for her response, and a sudden, heady feeling of recklessness gripped her as she lifted her chin. “But in any case, dinner sounds like a better offer for both of us, so if you really did mean it, then I accept.”
8
Accepting what amounted more or less to a date in front of a good portion of the town’s population was not, Jenna realized, very wise. Especially when the date was with Starr’s Fall’s most eligible bachelor, and it wasn’t really a date in the first place. At least, Jenna was not letting herself think it was a date, because, she told herself, she and Jack didn’t even like each other. He was just going to be offering some business advice that she probably wouldn’t even appreciate, and then they’d go back to ignoring each other. The thought brought equal amounts relief and disappointment, which was aggravating in the extreme.
It was also exasperating how interested just about everyone in Starr’s Fall was about the prospect of said date. She and Jack had agreed to meet at six-thirty on Wednesday, a mere two days hence, but in those two days Jenna had more business come through the store than she’d had all month. Everyone wanted to know what was going on with her and Jack, and Jenna decided they might as well pay for the privilege.
“I only answer questions from paying customers,” she told Zoe Wilkinson, who had come in to hear some dirt and good-naturedly bought a loaf of bread and a gallon of milk.
“So did Jack Wexler really ask you out? He was talking so quietly we couldn’t actually overhear,” she complained as she handed Jenna a twenty. “Doesn’t he have an amazing voice? So low and rumbling. Very sexy.”
“He’s old enough to be your father,” Jenna admonished, and Zoe rolled her eyes.
“Only if he had me when he was fourteen. He’s forty-two.”
“How do you know that?”
“It’s called Google? His profile’s online. Do you know he made his first million when he was twenty-three? There’s an article about him inForbes.”
“Wow, stalker much?” Jenna teased. “And no, it’s not a date. We’re having dinner to discuss how I can keep this store going. If he made his first million when he was that young, he’d better have some good ideas.” Something Jenna had realized in between deciding she disliked Jack Wexler and feeling like she could flirt with him was that he actually might have some good advice. No, he didn’t know Starr’s Fall, but he clearly knew business. And yes, she did have a serious chip on her shoulder when it came to rich know-it-all guys, but Jack wasn’t Ryan, and she had no intention of dating him, anyway. More to the point, he most likely had no intention of dating her.
Even if they were having dinner together.
