She sat back, splayed her hands, and waited.
She wasn’t pressuring him. She wasn’t begging him. She was laying the cards on the table and letting him make the choice that best suited their situation.
And she’s not a shark from some other company. Come on, man, what were you thinking? Although it gave her a good laugh.
It had, and he couldn’t believe he’d gone straight to that kind of suspicion. But considering the corporate pool he swam in, it shouldn’t be such a big surprise. “I need to think about this. Weigh the options.”
“Understandable.” She went back to eating as if she hadn’t just laid two divergent paths before him. “I know being a numbers guy means you’ve checked out the books, the debits, credits, etc. But bridal is a year-ahead-of-the-game merchandising scheme. Last year means little if this year isn’t prepping for next year.”
“The sensibility behind this astounds me, and I’m still wondering how you know so much.”
“When you’ve been broke forever, you learn to examine deeply.” She faced him straight on, and the soft sheen of her golden eyes made him think of long, slow sunsets and tall, waving wheat fields. A nice combination, in his book. “And I’ve always had this little-girl wish to have my own place, dress brides, plan weddings. So on one side of the coin I ace my law exams because our town could use a stand-up person to make sure folks are well represented when they need help.”
“And the flip side?”
“I studied bridal in print, I watched every bridal reality show produced, perused bridal blogs, and drew my own conclusions about what makes a store successful. Your mother had the formula down pat until the rules of the game changed a few years ago.”
Her reasoning made sense.
His mother had been a smart, industrious bundle of energy, but she’d been old-school in many ways. He could see how Tara arrived at her conclusions. But now he had some serious thinking to do.
Tara boxed the remainder of her meal in the Styrofoam carton the clerk provided and stood. “I have to get home. I need to prep for my business law clinic tomorrow.”
“Of course.” He stood quickly. As she moved through the door, a new wave of wind-driven rain began to beat against the dark street. He touched her arm. “Let me get the car. Stay here where it’s warm and dry.”
“Either that or—” She reached inside the neck of her coat and tugged the hood of her fleece over her head. “We race!” She sprinted down the sidewalk ahead of him and beat him to the car, but then had to wait as he fumbled for his keys to open the electronic locks.
“You’re crazy.”
She climbed inside, pulled the wet hood down, and adjusted her seatbelt. “Safe is good, but sometimes life just dares you to run in the rain.”
Her words made him pause. When was the last time he ran in the rain?
Undergrad. A lot of years back. He’d been a little foolish then, a little reckless. He’d had a few run-ins with bad choices, so when he decided on the straight and narrow path to the corporate top, he had hugged that path with a ferocity that didn’t look left or right. Tara’s take on facing storms was downright refreshing.
She had her own way of handling things. She had the guts to dare the soaking Nor’easter with nothing more than a thin fleece hood. She talked frankly about his mother’s beloved store, and while he didn’t necessarily like what he heard, he was glad she’d confronted the situation. Kathy had kept the whole thing to herself as a promise to his mother. Now that he understood the dynamics, he could figure out the best way to go.
He hoped.
As Tara walked toward Old City Monday afternoon, her cell phone rang. She peered at the screen. Her mother. “This has to be a record,” she said. “You’re the third call I’ve gotten from Kenneville today.”
“Why is that?”
“Mr. Garbowski is wondering if he can sue Mrs. Fowler.”
“Why would he do that? She’s such a nice old gal.”
“She cut down her Norway maple, the only shade for his yard, and she didn’t have the decency to consult him first.”
“Did you tell him to grow his own tree?”
“I did. It seems he tried, but the shade from her tree killed any seedling he planted. Starved for sunlight, kind of like me right now.” She tucked her chin deeper into the collar of her coat as today’s wind and rain lashed the city.
“I’m stunned. The only thing I can say is that everyone is so proud of your accomplishments that they’re jumping the gun.”
“I reminded him that with hers gone, a new seedling should thrive, and not to be sue-happy.”
“I can’t believe he interrupted your schooling for a call like that.” Her mother sighed. “Who else called?”
“Mrs. Bushing is leaving Mr. Bushing and wondered if I’d be ready to represent her in a divorce by June. I kindly refused.”