Sam scooped salsa onto a tortilla chip.
Sam and Holly had made it their New Year’s resolution to eat at every restaurant in Martinsburg over the course of twelve months. Their town offered a total of one hundred and three restaurants. So far, they’d made it through eighty-seven.
“So?” Sam asked. “Why the urgent summons? It’s Tuesday and we weren’t supposed to have lunch here ’til Thursday.”
“I saw Josh today.”
Sam’s manicured eyebrows lifted. “As in your high school love Josh?”
“The same.”
“High school love turned billionaire Josh?”
“Yes.”
“Already arrived in Martinsburg to ride to the rescue of his loyal pal Ben.”
Holly nodded.
“Tell me all.”
Holly recounted her meeting with Josh, starting with his appearance and ending with his request for her help searching out rehearsal dinner locations.
Sam had the sleek dark hair, oval face, and beautifully pampered skin of a woman born and bred on the East Coast, which, in fact, she had been. She’d married a man Holly affectionately referred to as Mr. Perfect two years ago and moved to Martinsburg when Mr. Perfect’s engineering expertise had scored him a job with Martinsburg’s largest employer, a clean energy company. Sam worked as a CPA and had chosen a navy pin-striped suit for today’s work ensemble.
“He must have it bad for you,” Sam said. “Otherwise why ask for your help?”
“He isn’t familiar with Martinsburg anymore. Maybe he just needs a local to offer up ideas.”
“A man that rich can hire someone to scout locations. Also, how come he hasn’t already booked a place for the rehearsal dinner? Amanda and Ben’s wedding is what, three and a half weeks away?”
Ben’s fiancée, Amanda, was the beloved daughter of Martinsburg’s wealthiest family. Her upcoming wedding had become one of the town’s favorite topics of conversation. Not above football, of course. But it had edged past the ongoing dispute about whether Billy’s barbeque rub was better than Johnny Earl’s.
“Maybe he’s been busy?” Holly suggested.
Sam snorted. “Busy dreaming of a reunion with his high school girlfriend. Did you set a date to scout rehearsal sites?”
“No, I gave him my number.”
“Holly, Holly, Holly.” Sam shook her head pityingly. “Now you’ve handed him all the control. You’re going to have to sit around on pins and needles waiting to hear from him.”
“Does the sitting around have to involve pins and needles?” Holly took hold of a lock of her hair and wound it around her index finger. The truth was that seeing Josh had already turned her brain to mush and made her stomach so jumpy she doubted whether she’d be able to consume even a single cheese enchilada. More’s the pity. She liked Mexican.
“You should have asked for his number,” Sam informed her. “Or you should have said that you’d be free on, say, Saturday from two to five.”
“This is why you’re married to Mr. Perfect and I’m dating no one.”
Sam pointed a tortilla chip at Holly. “My husband is indeed perfect.”
“Yes. I realize.” Mr. Perfect made good money, dressed like someone who knew how to sail, cooked, shopped for groceries, cleaned their house, and frequently showered Sam with gifts.
“He made chicken piccata last night,” Sam said, “and told me to rest while he cleaned it up.”
“Boo! I ate cereal for dinner.”
“I’m now going to leverage the man IQ I used to land my husband to help you land your high school love turned billionaire—”
“No! No, no, no.”
Sam waited for her to explain her reluctance while mariachi music played softly and the scent of cilantro sifted over them with the air conditioning. A few banners of colorful cutout tissue paper rectangles swagged above them.
“I can’t fall for him again, Sam.”
“Why not?”
“He lives in Paris, you realize. He’ll be leaving town right after the wedding.”
“Not all long-distance relationships are doomed to crash and burn.”
“Okay, setting aside the long-distance part, if I let myself care about him again, then I risk putting myself through all the heartache I went through the last time we broke up. I can’t do it again.”
Sam’s face softened. Not usually given to physical displays of affection, she reached across the table and wrapped her hand around Holly’s forearm. “My first man IQ lesson? Nothing ventured, nothing gained. Do you want Josh?”
“No.”
“Yes you do. And this is your chance! You have proximity.” She squeezed Holly’s arm to underscore the urgency in her words before sitting back in her booth seat. “I counsel you to mount a full-scale assault on his heart.”
“I typically only mount full-scale assaults on my To Be Read pile of books.”
“Man IQ lesson number two: you have to start thinking of yourself as superior to him.”