A Great Kisser Read online

  “Well, it’s not Napa Valley,” Arlen responded jovially, “but we’re pretty proud of what our great state produces.”

  “You’re originally from California, right?”

  “Yes,” Arlen said, and seemed quite enthusiastic about being given the chance to endorse that little tidbit about himself. “San Francisco.”

  Lauren kept her own “circuit smile” on steady display. “Then I suppose you’d probably know a little something about those Napa wines, so I’m impressed you think so highly of the local wines here. I’m looking forward to trying it.”

  “I assure you, you won’t be disappointed.”

  Small talk momentarily exhausted, when the silence went on for a beat too long, Lauren’s mother reached for her menu, prompting them to do the same.

  It was cowardly, she knew, to hide behind the oversized, faux-leather folder, but it gave her a much-needed moment to regroup and reorganize her thoughts without Arlen staring her down. Well, maybe stare was too excessive a description, but he’d kept his focus fairly intently on her since she’d entered the room. Even when he’d seated her mother, his attention had been on Lauren. It wasn’t exactly creepy or anything, but it wasn’t comfortable, either.

  Lauren surreptitiously took peeks at both her mother and Arlen as they perused their menus. For all she knew, they ate here all the time and knew the course offerings by heart. But they both seemed pretty intent on examining every entrée. And not once, that she had noticed anyway, had they so much as glanced at one another.

  Could it be, Lauren wondered, that perhaps her mother had already come to the same realization that her East Coast friends and Lauren had come to about five seconds after she’d announced her elopement? If so, Lauren would be profoundly relieved and grateful to have the mother she knew and loved back to her normal sane, rational self. But she also was well aware that Charlene was a proud woman who’d been raised to do well in anything she attempted—a goal she’d pretty much always succeeded in achieving—so would likely be embarrassed by this rather public and personal failing. Lauren vowed right then she would approach the subject delicately and with compassion.

  She glanced at her mother, wishing again that she could have spent some time with her alone first, rather than this somewhat stilted, best-behavior, social call. The private room was nice, but only went so far. She couldn’t ask her mother the things she was most dying to know, which was how in the worldwide hell, with all the distinguished and lovely gentlemen who had orbited her very active social circles since Lauren’s father had passed away—and there had been no small number who would have given anything for even a personal smile from Charlene Matthews—had she ever, even in a weak moment, chosen this one?

  Okay, maybe she needed to work on the delicate part of her approach. But even if her mother had realized her impulsive union was a mistake, Lauren was still curious why she’d been compelled to be so impulsive in the first place.

  She thought perhaps she could catch the corner of her mother’s eye and silently mouth something to her—about seeing her later, in private. But her mother had set her menu aside and was busy spreading her linen napkin neatly in her lap, her faultless southern Virginia manners as natural a part of her as her relentlessly graceful charm.

  When the silence continued after they’d all set aside their menus, Lauren cleared her throat and said, “Cedar Springs is lovely.”

  Her mother’s eyes sparkled at the comment. “Isn’t it, though? Just like a page out of a magazine.”

  “Jewel of the Rockies,” Arlen said, sounding less uncertain of himself now. Of course, that was because he sounded like a campaign poster. Which as mayor, was, generally speaking, his job.

  Now that Lauren suspected he wasn’t going to be in her or her mother’s orbit much longer, it was easier to simply take him with a grain of salt and not be as tense or stressed over every single sentence.

  “It’s taken a good part of my time in office,” he went on, “but we’ve managed to turn this town into a destination resort that rivals—and if you ask me, outdoes—its more glitzier counterparts to the south. Telluride might have its little film festival, and Aspen and Vail their constant stream of movie starlets, but Cedar Springs is a town that can embrace the worldwide adventure seeker, and still offer home and hearth to those residents who plan to live out their life in our little mountain paradise. It’s becoming a generational town, where family names still mean something, and small town values remain high on our priority list, despite our reputation as a place that easily meets the needs of our most worldly and cosmopolitan travelers. From a five star resort, to award-winning restaurants, it really is—”

  “The jewel of the Rockies,” Lauren finished with him, wondering how often he’d given that exact speech. “I can see why.” She turned her attention to him more personally, a pleasant smile on her face. In fact, she was feeling almost generous with the guy now. It was even a bit tempting to let him believe he’d won her over with his chamber of commerce, tourism board ad campaign, but given the amount of rhetoric she’d heard in her career, it would have taken a much better actress than her to pull that off. Besides, even her goodwill had its limits. Which was made, perhaps more clear than she intended, when, instead, she said, “I will admit though, I hadn’t expected my arrival to be so…conspicuous.”

  “I’m sorry about that, sweetheart,” her mother broke in to say. “It’s just, with Arlen being the mayor, and my excitement over your visit, word spreads in a little town like this. Please don’t feel pressured by it; everyone is excited to meet you, as well.”

  Lauren smiled at her mother and wished like hell the two of them were anywhere but here right now. This all felt so…staged. And she was pretty sure her mother was feeling the same way. But her manners would never allow her to tear away the veil of social propriety. And Lauren wouldn’t put her in that kind of awkward position by doing it herself. At least, not blatantly anyway.

  But at least she could look forward now to spending some time alone with her mother. The two of them could figure out how best to handle the next step so that her mother could extricate herself and return to her previous life with as little fallout as possible. Which…was going to call on every bit of campaign strategy Lauren had learned in her years in Washington, and then some.

  She glanced back at Arlen to find him steadily regarding her. It caught her off guard, and he immediately glanced down and spread his linen napkin on his lap, but it was still a little unnerving. She told herself he was simply feeling the awkward tension in the room and had been trying to read her, figure out what would work. Politicians and businessmen did it all the time as they met with constituents, clients, and those who might be able to help them achieve their goals. She wondered if Arlen was good at reading people, or just thought he was good at it. She’d met both types. She hadn’t learned enough about him to know, but his business successes would indicate he was pretty decently skilled. It was something to keep in mind. To not underestimate him. Especially if her mother was planning to ask for a divorce.

  He had a whole town behind him. Her mother was an O’Grady and a Matthews, and back home both carried significant weight. But Lauren was well aware that her mother would want to preserve both her good name and her standing, at all costs. Pride and dignity being paramount in her world. So, if Arlen wanted to play dirty, he could easily have the upper hand.

  Worth keeping in mind, in terms of staying on his good side. At least, for now.

  Lauren picked up her menu again just as her mother said, “We’re so sorry we couldn’t meet you in Holden. Jake was very kind to do us the favor, but I understand the storm earlier kept him from flying you in.”

  “It did, but we made it in just fine.” Lauren was careful to keep looking at her menu. Her mother had an almost supernatural ability to look at her daughter’s face and know what she was thinking. Or, at least, who she was thinking about. There was more than enough tension swirling in the room already. And that was what they’d
come here to figure out. Lauren didn’t want to give her any excuse for a distraction, particularly when she wasn’t sure how she felt about the distraction yet, herself. It was definitely way too early, on all fronts, to mention just how much she’d enjoyed Jake’s company. Much less that she planned on enjoying it again. She assumed that word might get around after their little flight on Sunday, but certainly by then she and her mother would have a battle plan in place. And, considering Lauren wasn’t all that certain she’d need to be here much longer than that, it wouldn’t really matter at that point. “How do you all know Jake?” she asked casually. Better to know up front what the connection was. “Or is it that everyone knows everyone here?”

  “Well, that much is certainly true,” her mother said, “but, as it happens, Jake’s sister, Ruby Jean, is Arlen’s personal administrative assistant. Sort of like the job you have with Senator Fordham,” she added with a proud smile. “Just on a somewhat smaller scale.”

  “Careful, dear,” Arlen said with a chuckle. “You know we men don’t like to have our egos—I mean, careers—sized.”

  He patted her mother’s hand, which caused a totally inappropriate, almost visceral protective reaction in Lauren, which had her staring really hard at the menu rather than using it to swat his hands off her mother.

  Who happens to be his wife, she reminded herself, which should have been totally unnecessary. Of course, she’d already come to the conclusion, given their behavior so far, that there wouldn’t be any endearments or little touches, so it had just caught her off guard was all. Certainly, given they were trying to mend fences first, they’d want to keep up appearances in front of her. Although neither of them had been trying too awfully hard. She just needed to be better prepared to witness it, that was all. Once she’d had the chance to sit down with her mother and get this fiasco all out into the open, all the charade playing could finally come to an end. Which made her wonder…were both her mother and Arlen playing charades? Had Arlen also come to realize the depth of the mismatch?

  That set Lauren off on an entirely new tangent of internal questioning. Lovely.

  She’d just have to watch a bit more intently, then see if she could figure out the lay of the land. Her mother had smiled at his little joke, but then they both had gone back to their menus. Charlene had never once, to Lauren’s knowledge, had any patience for men with practiced, well-rehearsed viewpoints. Pompous poseurs, she’d called them. Her mother responded to passionate defense of beliefs and a person knowing his or herself well enough to stand behind them and defend them well if called upon to do so.

  Somehow, after listening to Arlen’s chamber of commerce speech a few minutes ago, Lauren couldn’t really fathom him giving an impassioned, original defense of…anything. He might be a practiced orator, but Lauren would bet money the words he delivered the best were generally written by somebody else.

  Lauren glanced at her mother again and found her thoughts going back to how they’d ever become a match in the first place. Under what set of conditions would her mother have ever fallen for this guy? Lauren couldn’t come up with any. Which led her to wonder again if, perhaps, there really was something wrong with her. She seemed perfectly fine, sharp, gracious, and on point as she’d always been, but perhaps there was something else going on beneath the surface. Not that Lauren wished her mother ill health over simple poor judgment, but there had to be something that would explain this…aberration. Something that Lauren was obviously missing.

  She stared sightlessly at her menu and tried very hard to be objective. Daphne, one of her former coworkers, and the only one she considered a close friend, had said in response to Lauren’s venting about all of it that perhaps her feelings about Arlen were just totally off base and skewed by her dissatisfaction with her own life. And that maybe she should trust her mother, who’d always shown good judgment, the same way Lauren expected that of her mother when Lauren had dated various men on the Hill.

  Except Lauren hadn’t eloped and moved across the country with any of them.

  And she’d fixed her dissatisfaction with her life. Well, she’d taken the first step, anyway. And that hadn’t changed her feelings about the elopement. She really didn’t think that had anything to do with this.

  The wine steward came in just then, followed by Stephan, their waiter, giving a much-needed break to the growing silence in the small room.

  After Arlen pronounced the pinot noir palatable, everyone placed their orders, or should she say that she placed her order, and Arlen placed the order for both him and her mother. Even though Lauren hadn’t seen him consult with her at all on any part of their order. Her mother was a connoisseur of good food and was known for her very discerning palate. Her menus were always discussed after any event and considered both classic and adventurous, mostly in terms of the combinations she would so cleverly decide upon. So…it was just odd to see her hand over the choice of what she was going to eat to someone else. But then, as Lauren had noted earlier, perhaps they came here all the time and their choices were already well established.

  She looked to Stephan, the waiter, to see if there was any acknowledgment on his part of the First Couple being regulars of the establishment. But he didn’t seem to treat them any differently than he treated her.

  And Lauren knew her mother’s expressions about as well as Charlene could read her daughter’s, and Lauren didn’t spy any dissatisfaction with the direction the evening was taking, overtly or subtly.

  It was all so confusing, really. Possibly she was just over-thinking all of it, examining the details too closely, analyzing aspects that simply didn’t require such close scrutiny. Okay, probably. But that still left her with more questions than answers.

  They all handed their menus to Stephan, who slipped out as silently as he’d slipped in, taking her one remaining shield away with him.

  Forced to make direct eye contact, Lauren chose her mother. “So, how did the charity luncheon go today?” Small talk. She hadn’t seen her mother in six months, and she was making small talk. It was pathetic, and made her more than a little sad, but she felt really out to sea here, so, like her mother, she clung to societal convention like the life raft it was. At least until she felt she had a better handle on the real situation between her mother and Arlen.

  “It went well, but ran quite long.” Her mother smiled, clearly using the life raft, as well.

  “What was the charity?” Lauren asked, fiddling with her napkin, smoothing the wrinkles flat.

  And so the conversation went, stilted and staggered and so incredibly not how she thought it might go after that initial hug. She blamed it all on Arlen, or perhaps her mother’s discomfort in knowing how to act around him. She still felt certain that she and her mother were on the right track, but she’d have paid large sums to have an emergency announced in the kitchen right around then that would force the restaurant to close early. A little dramatic, perhaps, but that’s how she was feeling at the moment. Finally, Stephan—bless his heart—returned with their food. Which was probably delicious, but she couldn’t remember a single bite of it. Mostly it had given her something to do. And do it, she did. She carefully cut and consumed that lasagna like it was her damn job. She listened as Arlen talked on about the town’s accomplishments and future hopes, and her mother chimed in to talk about this person or that, trying to personalize Arlen’s monologue, as if Lauren would be interested in minor details of the lives of complete strangers. But then, it struck her that the irony was, the people sitting across from her were complete strangers, so what difference did it make?

  Dinner finally dwindled to an end, their meals finished, leaving Lauren to desperately wish she could claim some other engagement and take off. But she’d just arrived in town. Expressly to see her mother and meet Arlen. So, what else could she possibly have to do?

  Jake’s sexy, smiling face floated through her mind.

  She floated it right back out again as Stephan returned to clear dishes and ask after coffee and des
sert. Lauren had the strongest urge to wrap her arms around his waist and beg him to stay. Or take her with him. Thankfully, dessert was unanimously declined and coffee was ordered. How long could it take to sip a cup of coffee, then beg off with claims of an altitude headache or jet lag? Neither of which were true, but neither her mother nor Arlen, who were both searching for topics of discussion themselves, seemed all that intent on prolonging the agony, either.

  The other irony was that there was so much she wanted to say, wanted to ask. But, instead they were stuck in some kind of horrific provincial play, acting out parts none of them felt comfortable playing, rather than just putting it all out there on the table. It was on the tip of her tongue to simply say it, dive in, but something held her back. Maybe it was the way she’d continued to catch Arlen kind of staring at her during dinner. Nothing overtly creepy or anything, just that…staring thing he did. He’d smile when she caught him, or look away and pretend he hadn’t been staring at all. She supposed it wasn’t weird, him wanting to get a look at the one person who possibly stood between him and a potentially happy marriage. Or! A satisfactory divorce. Ooh, maybe that was it! It made more sense than anything else. Her mother had probably let it slip that Lauren was also an attorney, though not a practicing one, but still…perhaps it wasn’t her political contacts he wanted, but her legal expertise that he was trying to avoid.

  So many questions, but with that one thought, she knew there was no way she could force the conversation now. It would never be in her mother’s best interests for them both to be blindsided with that kind of conversational gambit.

  “Lauren, dear, are you okay?”

  She realized she was balling up her napkin in her lap and carefully laid it on the table beside her water glass. “You know, with the flight and the storm and all, it’s been a really long day. It might just be the altitude change, but I think the day is catching up with me.”