"What?" she said.
He regarded Torie and Emma. "Is anybody going to tell her?"
Torie flipped her hair. "Not me."
"Nor I," Emma said.
Ted shrugged and before Meg could ask what he was talking about, he'd pinned her with his tiger eyes. "Spence wants to see you, and you'd better cooperate. Smile at him and ask him questions about his plumbing empire. He's real big on his new Cleaner You toilet." As Meg arched an eyebrow at him, he spun on Emma. "As for you . . ."
"I know. I'm dreadfully sorry. Really. I fully intended to talk to you first about the contest."
Torie jabbed him in the shoulder with one manicured fingernail. "Don't you dare complain. The bidding's already up to thirty-four hundred dollars. Not having children yourself, you can't imagine how much the library means to the sweet little babies in our town who are crying themselves to sleep every night because they don't have any new books."
He wasn't biting. "Your expenses will eat up every penny of that thirty-four hundred. Did anybody factor that in?"
"Oh, we have the expenses all worked out," Emma said. "One of Kenny's friends has volunteered his private jet, which takes care of airfare to San Francisco. And your mother's connections will get us great hotel and restaurant discounts. Once we tell her we need them, of course."
"I wouldn't bet on her help."
"On the contrary. She'll like the idea very much . . . after I point out how brilliantly this contest has taken your mind off your recent . . ."
As Emma searched for the right word, Meg jumped in to help her out. "National humiliation? Public debasement? Looking like a weenie?"
"That's uncalled for," Torie protested. "Considering you were responsible."
"I'm not the one who dumped his sorry ass," Meg said. "Why can't you people get that through your thick heads?"
She waited for the inevitable retort. That everything had been fine until she'd come along. That she'd taken cruel advantage of Lucy's bridal nerves. That she'd been jealous and wanted Ted for herself. Instead, he waved her off and focused on Emma. "You should have known better than to go along with this harebrained contest."
"Stop looking at me like that. You know how wretched it makes me feel when you frown. Blame Shelby." Emma glanced around the patio for her mother-in-law. "Who seems to have disappeared. Coward."
Torie poked him in the ribs. "Uh-oh . . . Your newest conquest is headed this way. With her father."
Meg could swear she saw Ted frown, except all she actually saw him do was curl his mouth into one of his boringly predictable smiles. But before the Skipjacks could get to him, a shriek cut through the party noise.
"Oh my God!"
Everyone stopped talking and turned to locate the source of the noise. Kayla was staring at the small screen of her metallic red smartphone while Zoey stood on tiptoe to peer over her shoulder. A tendril of hair tumbled from her casually arranged updo as she lifted her head. "Somebody just raised the last bid by a thousand dollars!"
Sunny Skipjack's crimson lips curved in a satisfied smile, and Meg saw her slip her own phone into the pocket of her tunic.
"Dang," Torie grumbled. "Topping that is going to put a serious dent in my discretionary income."
"Daddy!" With a cry of distress, Kayla left Zoey behind as she dashed through the crowd to her father. Just that morning, Meg had served Bruce Garvin an orange soda and received zero tip in exchange. Kayla grabbed his arm and engaged him in a furious conversation.
Ted's lazy smile wobbled.
"Look on the bright side," Meg whispered. "The dear little babies of Wynette are that much closer to curling up with the new John Grisham."
He ignored her to address Torie. "Tell me you're not really bidding."
"Of course I'm bidding. Do you think I'd give up the chance for a weekend in San Francisco away from my kids? But Dex gets to come with us."
An overheated arm settled around Meg's waist, accompanied by the cloying scent of heavy cologne. "You don't have a drink yet, Miss Meg. Let's take care of that."
The plumbing king looked like Johnny Cash, circa 1985. The silver in his thick black hair shone, and his expensive watch glittered in a nest of wrist hair. Although most of the men wore shorts, he had on black pants and a designer polo with a small tuft of hair visible at the open neck. As he maneuvered her away from the others, he rubbed his hand across the small of her back. "You look like a movie star yourself today. That's a beautiful dress. Did you ever happen to meet Tom Cruise?"
"I never had the pleasure." It was a lie, but she wouldn't let him trap her into a discussion of every star she'd met. Out of the corner of her eye, she saw Sunny give Ted her bold smile and watched Ted smile right back. A fragment of their conversation drifted her way.