Marianne had been going over the theater’s books all afternoon. On the surface, business seemed fine, the CPA assured her once a month that everything was fine, but there was no substitute for a thorough review to make sure. It wasn’t just a business, it was her family legacy, and she had no intention of damaging it through carelessness.
If those people in Salem ever got around to approving her application to declare the theater a State Historical Landmark, it would help cement that family legacy. Of course, it would only prevent the Esmerelda from being torn down, it wouldn’t guarantee that she could stay in business.
But for now, things all looked good. She was operating solidly in the black, customers were filling the seats, and there really were no more excuses for staying cooped up in this tiny office any longer, were there?
She made her way around the printer stand, by the stack of boxes and over the pile of papers nearly a foot high, and finally out into the hallway and down the stairs. One of these days, she’d straighten up, or maybe even figure out a better place to work from, where there’d actually be room to breathe. But that was a problem for another day. For now, she was hungry, and the only thing that would satisfy her was a cheeseburger and chili fries from Della’s Diner over on Main Street.
Of course, there’d be a price to pay. Whenever she ate a big, greasy meal like that, she had to balance it with a workout the next morning. She’d spent years watching movies where rail-thin women ate ridiculously large meals, yet never seemed to gain an ounce or an inch despite apparently never exercising, but she had not figured out the magic that made it possible. So the penance for her cheeseburger, fries – and milkshake, naturally – would be at least an hour at the gym tomorrow.
“Hey!”
Marianne was so engrossed in thinking about her dinner and subsequent workout that she didn’t see the man she’d just bumped into until, well, she’d bumped into him.
“Oh, my gosh! I’m so sorry!”
He wasn’t especially tall – yes, he was taller than her, but that wasn’t saying much. If he was five foot eight, that was being generous. He had short, dark hair that still had somehow managed to get itself blown all over the place in the wind. And he had pretty, expressive brown eyes.
He also had two hands, which he was using to feel his face for any injuries. Marianne was fairly certain he was doing that just for show. She hadn’t run into him that hard!
“No apology necessary,” he said, even as he pressed on his nose as if to ensure it wasn’t broken, which it obviously wasn’t.
“No, really,” Marianne answered. Now he was – oh, this was absurd! – he was checking to make sure he still had all his teeth. It had to be a joke. He was making fun of her, right? Maybe she did deserve a little ribbing, for walking right into him the way she had. “Nothing’s broken, there’s no blood, and all your teeth are still there. I’m no doctor, but I think you’re going to make it.”
If she’d wanted to be cruel, she could have pointed out that even if there was any blood, it would hardly be noticeable on his flannel shirt. But, truth be told, the shirt looked good on him, as did the black jeans, which she usually didn’t like on anyone.
“I guess I’ll take your word for it,” he said, extending a hand to her. “Jack Nelson, by the way. I’m new in town, so I figure I can’t pass up the chance to get to know anybody, right?”
She shook his hand. “Marianne Carter. I can’t speak for the whole town, but I can welcome you on behalf of the Esmerelda Theater.”
He raised an eyebrow at that, but why? Was he surprised that a woman owned it? Or maybe it was her youth, which was kind of unusual, she supposed. If she didn’t own the theater and she had to guess who did, her first instinct would not be a twenty-eight year old. But she hadn’t even said she owned it anyway, so what was the deal with his reaction?
“Really?”
“Is it such a surprise I own it?” She hadn’t meant to say it quite that bluntly, but the words came out of their own accord.
He laughed. It was actually a very pleasing laugh, or at least it would have been if it hadn’t been directed at her. “No. It’s just a surprise that you led with what you do. That’s more of a big city thing to do.”
She felt more words readying themselves to spill out, but she caught them before they could escape. He wasn’t actually wrong, now that she thought about it. The theater wasn’t the first thing she usually talked about when she introduced herself, nor did she immediately ask someone what their job was, the first time she met them.
On the other hand, this was a small town, and while she certainly didn’t know everyone personally, if you told her a name, she probably knew where they worked, how long their family had lived in Romance, and a dozen other things about them. And everyone knew she owned the Esmerelda, so there was never any need to tell anyone she did.
“I guess you’re right,” she said after a moment. “Honestly, I can’t tell you the last time I met someone totally new to town, so I’m a little rusty with the proper etiquette.” Who was the last newcomer she’d met? Maybe Lucas Chase’s wife, Dori. She’d moved here from New York City, and she and Lucas had rented out the theater for their engagement party back in the spring.
“I guess I am, too,” Jack said, a hint of a twinkle in his eye. At least, Marianne thought she saw one. “Anyway, you seemed pretty intent on wherever you were headed, so I probably shouldn’t keep you.” Was there the slightest plea there? Was he trying to delay her, to spend a few more minutes talking?
Was he interested in her? She hadn’t been on a date in months, and now two men in one day were hitting on her? First the Duck-Man over email, and then Jack here on the street. Maybe it was fate trying to tell her something. If this were a movie, it definitely would be.
“I was just thinking about an early supper. I’m headed over to Della’s Diner. Have you been there yet? The chili fries are to die for.”
“Is that an invitation?” There was definitely a twinkle this time.
Was it? She had a date tomorrow night. She couldn’t two-time the Duck-Man, could she? But that was absurd. She hadn’t actually gone out with her email pen-pal yet, so how could she two-time him? Besides, maybe Jack here was the obstacle that the Duck-Man would have to overcome in order to win her heart. That’s how it usually worked in the movies.
“Yes, it is. So come on already. I’m starving.”