Momentary Marriage(20)
“Nothing else would do, given the name of the place,” he agreed dryly. “Any ideas on a layout for promoting just the restaurant?”
Kelsey thought about it, very conscious of the man across the table watching her with unreadable eyes. Amazing. The way he smiled and laughed, yet still managed to be anything but an open book. He intrigued her.
“If it were me,” she said finally, “I’d push the experience. Fine dining at its best. That sort of thing. Crystal, champagne. People who look like they live this way every day.”
Amusement gathered in his face. “Live what way?”
She waved a hand, indicating the dining area around them. “Dinner done formally.”
“You don’t have dinner every day?” he teased.
“Out of a take-out carton,” she admitted with a laugh. “More and more people are squeezing meals in between other commitments. They have busy lives. But this is the way they want to eat dinner, most of them. In a place like this.”
Jared laughed. “Okay, we’ll push the ‘dinner done right’ theme.”
After a moment’s pause, he said, “So, tell me about your sister and Doug. What’s up with that?”
His question triggered the concerns she’d been holding at bay since her brief conversation with Doug, and she couldn’t help frowning. “She’s in love with him.”
“And he’s in love with you,” Jared concluded.
Kelsey made a disgusted sound in her throat. “He thinks he’s in love with me, but the man’s too clueless. We’re all wrong for each other. I have to make him see that. I owe it to Amy.”
“You really love her.”
“Of course,” she responded, surprised. “Don’t you love your sister?”
Jared smiled. “Yes. Both of them, but none of their swains has indicated a preference for me.”
“Good for you,” Kelsey said, laughing softly. “I wish I could say the same.”
CHAPTER FIVE
The next morning, Kelsey put the telephone receiver back in the cradle and sighed. Still no answer. When she’d returned from lunch with Jared yesterday, Kelsey found that Amy had called in sick for work. Kelsey had tried calling her and had only gotten the answering machine. On the third attempt, she’d decided to leave a message. But here another morning was starting and her sister hadn’t called her back yet.
Kelsey couldn’t blame her for being upset. Amy loved Doug and he’d really had been a jerk at the banquet. But surely after their talk yesterday, he would have tried to contact Amy and apologize to her.
Sitting back down at the small kitchen table, Kelsey flipped through the newspaper, waiting for her coffee to cool. She’d woken early this morning, so worried about her sister that she’d been unable to sleep. As a result, she now had a few minutes to kill before getting ready for work.
Engrossed in an article on a local homeless shelter, she reached the end of the page and searched for the continuation. As usual, the newsprint refused to crease in the place she needed. Kelsey flapped the pages with both hands, trying to subdue the section. In her efforts to wrestle the thing into a readable size, the rest of the paper slid off her knees to the floor.
“Crap,” she muttered, bending to pick up the stack—
Kelsey froze. There on the front page of the financial section was a small article with a headline proclaiming Layton and Associates Anticipating Market Drop.
Gathering up the paper, she ignored the odd sensation in her stomach. Almost without conscious thought, she let the rest of the paper drift onto the table top, the financial section in her hands.
Layton and Associates.
Her eyes scanning the article, she read about John Layton’s take on how the latest economic indicators would affect the stock market. She’d always known that her father was a financial adviser in Manhattan. But how many John Layton’s could there be working in a town this size? Ten? A hundred? This probably wasn’t him.
Kelsey reread the article, unable to stop herself despite the fact that it said little beyond stock prognostications. At the end of it, she calmly refolded the section of newspaper and returned it to the stack on the table.
Even if this John Layton was her and Amy’s father, what did it matter to her?
***
An hour later, Kelsey sat at her desk, the phone tucked against one ear as she munched on a bagel with cream cheese.
“Yes, Sal. I understand. You want someone perkier for the coffee shot. Okay. All right. I’ll take care of it.”
She hung up, swearing softly when she saw that a glob of cream cheese had landed an inch above her left breast. Busily scrubbing at the spot with a damp paper napkin, she picked up the phone absently when it rang again.