Southern Hospitality (18 page)

“Since he married me, apparently. For some reason, he thinks he has to entertain me all the time, take me places, do things together,” Abby said, giving a shrug and popping another pecan morsel into her mouth. “Last night I finally had enough togetherness and asked him what was going on. Do you realize I haven’t been able to set foot out of the house alone since we were married?”

Tory nodded dumbly, remembering her conversation with Logan the previous night.

“I just don’t understand men. Gary told me he didn’t want me to become bored now that I was married. He knew that I was always doing something exciting when I was single and didn’t think he could compete with my former lifestyle. Have you ever heard anything so ridiculous in your life?”

“It’s kind of sweet.” The response was weak since Tory felt guilty over her ranting to Logan about marriage making women idiots. Last night she’d been criticizing her friend, and today she was almost envious, wanting someone to care about her that way. Appearances were deceiving, especially when someone came to unfounded conclusions.

“Yeah, it is sweet, dumb but sweet,” the blond admitted with an affectionate grin. “After hours of loving attention, I think I finally convinced him that I’m not going to run off with the milkman. It was a tough job, but somebody had to do it.”

“Nice work, if you can get it.” Tory nibbled on another piece of pecan tart, still a little stunned over misjudging her friend.

“Now that we’ve dealt with my love life, how about yours, Miss Tory?”

“What love life?”

Abby answered in one word.

“I’m going to talk to your husband about your language,” Tory challenged, but knew she wasn’t going to be able to avoid talking about Logan much longer.

“You talk to Gary, and I’ll have a nice friendly chat with Logan. This is the first guy to have you hot and bothered in a long time, a really long time, a really, really long—”

“All right, all right,” Tory shouted. The other woman would keep this up all afternoon and into the night, until she got the information she wanted. Talking to her closest friend might not be a bad idea. “Logan wants to have an affair to pass the time while he’s in Arkansas, and I’m the lucky candidate. Or so the dumb Yankee thinks.”

“Should I start humming
Dixie
for appropriate background music, or how about
I am Woman?”
Abby shook her head and gave Tory a reproving look. “If you met a man who was nice looking, personable, had a good sense of humor, and got along well with your friends, would you consider having a relationship with him?”

“What’s the catch?”

“Just answer the question. You haven’t dated anyone in over two years, or had a serious relationship since you broke your engagement to Reed.” Abby paused and waited for Tory to nod in agreement. “So, I’m giving you a perfectly acceptable example. Would you consider having a relationship with him?”

“I suppose so—”

“Oh, I forgot to mention some minor details,” Abby broke in, a crafty smile spreading over her face. “He’s fairly assertive, probably as stubborn as you are, and lives in Boston.”

“That’s not fair,” Tory protested.

“What’s not fair? You probably had this guy summed up the second you met him, decided he was a clone of the dear, departed Reed, and wrote him off as a nuisance,” Abby said, ignoring the other woman’s protest. “Reed was a jerk and treated all women like they were second-class citizens. Logan isn’t anything like that. He comes across as a fairly reasonable man. Frankly, if I wasn’t married, I’d be after him in a second.”

“You’ve met Logan once, Abby.”

“I’m a quick study; I married Gary six months after we met. Besides, it’s clear that the man adores you. I don’t know what you argued about before our party, but he looked so lost, watching you from across the room.” She gave an exaggerated sigh of rapture, pressing her hands over her heart and batting her eyelashes. “If I hadn’t sent Button over to entertain him, you’d probably have ignored him all night.”

“You sicced Button on him? And I thought you liked Logan.”

“It’s the least I could do to help young love.”

“This isn’t love, it’s lust,”
which is the problem,
Tory finished silently with a feeling of depression, and was stunned by the implication of her thoughts. Why would she want Logan to love her?

“Hey, a man can be persuaded to change his mind.”

“Hmmm,” Tory answered absently, still preoccupied with her own thoughts. She couldn’t be in love with Logan Herrington. It was ridiculous. He was the last man on earth who she should love.

“Okay, if that’s the way you’re going to be, I guess it’s back to work,” Abby said in disgust. “Where are the extra packing boxes?”

“The boxes?” Tory echoed, then tried to concentrate on the present. “They’re on the left top shelf in the pantry.”

“This is insane,” she murmured the minute Abby left the room. Unable to stand still, she began pacing the length of the kitchen. How could she be so stupid to fall in love with an opinionated, arrogant, ill-mannered Yankee? No matter how much she wanted to deny it, Tory knew that it was true. She’d fallen in love with Logan.

For the life of her, she couldn’t figure why, or how it had happened. She didn’t have time to reason it out right now. Abby would back any second, and she had an important party to cater. All she felt like doing at the moment was going home, and hiding under the bedspread. That had always been her solution during a thunderstorm, burrowing into the mattress and pulling the covers over her head until the storm was over. Unfortunately, she wasn’t a trusting child any more, who accepted love as an uncomplicated emotion.

“Hey, this stuff looks pretty good. I don’t think my mother could find fault with this,” Logan announced, seeming unduly surprised at the decorative display of food that was being unloaded onto the table in front of him. When he caught Tory’s gaze studying him, he frowned and asked, “Do I have a spot on my tie, boss?”

His question caught her by surprise, unaware that she’d been staring at him. He was standing at the end of the long buffet table set up on the main deck of the
Spirit.
Did he have to sound so amazed about the food, and look so handsome at the same time? Was it any wonder she was having trouble concentrating on the job at hand? She’d already forgotten to count the boxes as they were carried onto the boat. “Sorry, I was trying to figure out if all the boxes are here, now that we have the hors d’oeuvres unloaded.”

“If they aren’t, it’s a little late because we’ve left the dock,” Abby announced from behind her. “Don’t the boys look nice in their party clothes?”

Logan and Gary linked arms and struck a pose reminiscent of a catalog layout. The two men had volunteered to serve as waiters for the evening when both of Tory’s college student helpers called in sick at the last minute. Thanks to Abby’s inspiration, they were dressed in matching outfits—charcoal slacks, black vests, and white shirts with a thin, black pin stripe. They complemented Abby’s and Tory’s gray skirts and maroon vests.

“Give us some straw hats, part our hair in the middle, and we’ll sing barber shop, in two-part harmony,” Gary announced, an ingratiating smile across his bearded face.

“Just hum under your breath while you work,” Tory shot back, trying to count the containers in earnest this time. The guests would be wondering where the food was fairly soon because the boat was underway. Although the weather was perfect with a clear sky and moderate temperature, she was still jumpy. Every guest at Stephen Ferguson’s retirement party was influential and could make or break Bill of Fare if something went wrong. There was also Logan’s disturbing presence, and the emotions that were lurking in her subconscious.

“Tory, will you relax?” Abby murmured, laying a comforting hand on her arm. “We’ve done this a hundred times before and for bigger crowds.”

“I know, but usually I have a kitchen close at hand and experienced helpers,” she whispered back, eyeing the two men at the end of the table. When Logan snitched a marinated mushroom from the perfect symmetry of one of the trays, she groaned, “See what I mean?”

“All right, you two idiots, let’s hop to it. You volunteered for this job, and you’re going to behave yourselves,” Abby exclaimed, pointing an accusing finger at an innocent-looking Logan. When her husband snickered, she turned to glare at him. “Both of you go check the tables and make sure there’s enough silverware. When that’s done, make sure the wine is iced, and set up the glasses on the table along the railing, then come back for further instructions. This is a first class operation. We don’t have time for schoolboy antics, which means the hired help doesn’t eat anything until the job is done.”

“Yes, ma’am,” they agreed in unison, but both men were having trouble repressing their grins.

“Okay, boss, now what?”

“If I don’t push one of them overboard before the evening’s over, it will be a miracle.” Tory watched Logan and Gary wending their way through the maze of tables, still acting like a pair of boisterous adolescents, then shook her head. “Let’s take the hors d’oeuvres to the upper deck. They’ll need something to nibble on with their drinks. I wouldn’t want to be responsible for a tipsy guest going overboard.”

“Tory, will you stop looking for trouble?” Abby asked when they returned from the upper deck. She deftly unpacked the dinner plates and stacked them at the end of the table while Tory began arranging the food for the main course. “We’ve already had two requests for Bill of Fare’s services while we were passing the canapés.”

“That’s before they realized we don’t have any dessert,” Tory replied tonelessly from where she stood near the packing boxes. She turned to stare at her friend, a feeling of desperation spreading through her body. “Where
is
the dessert?”

“You have to be kidding. I put the tarts and the ice chest with the fruit in the station wagon myself. They were in the back seat to keep from being jostled.” Abby abandoned the dishes to join Tory in searching through the boxes and the compact refrigerator. After a thorough search, she sat back on her heels and met her friend’s defeated look. “There isn’t any dessert, just walnut-banana whip cream for the fruit.”

“Okay, boss ladies, the glasses and wine are all set, what do we do next?” Gary announced from behind them. When neither of the women answered, he looked at his wife closely. “Honey, what’s the matter?”

“Do you remember an ice chest and two packing boxes marked dessert?”

“No, I don’t think so. How about you, Logan?”

“I didn’t look at the writing on the boxes. I just carried them. What’s wrong?”

“Unless someone wants to swim back to shore, we don’t have any dessert for a party of fifty people,” Tory groaned. She felt numb inside. In spite of her premonition of disaster, she couldn’t believe this was happening. Ironically, despite his earlier amusement, she wanted to seek the shelter of Logan’s arms for comfort and reassurance, even if he was the reason for her preoccupation tonight.

As if he read her mind, he moved to her side, curving an arm around her sagging shoulders. “From a conversation I overheard earlier about the river’s current, swimming isn’t an option. Is there something you can substitute for dessert?”

“Not stranded in the middle of the Arkansas River. I should never have agreed to cater a party on a boat,” Tory said numbly, torn between wanting his support and resenting it. This wouldn’t be happening if he hadn’t come to Arkansas.

“I’ll be right back.” Logan walked away before the other three could respond.

“How do you tell the president of one of the largest banks in the state that there isn’t any dessert?” Tory asked, dreading having to face Tyler Bodine with the news. “Gary, you deal with high-powered types all the time. Any suggestions?”

“Don’t give me that, Tory. You’ve grown up with high-powered types. Bodine isn’t going to tear your head off, although he’ll probably want a discount,” he returned, seeming to be at a loss over how to handle the matter.

“Not if he doesn’t know there’s a problem,” Logan put in as he rejoined the group. He was slightly out of breath, but grinning at the long-faced trio.

“Don’t tell me. You told the captain to pull over at the nearest supermarket for frozen yogurt?” Tory asked without enthusiasm. Her whole life was becoming a melodrama. First, she’d fallen in love with the most inappropriate man, and now her business was falling apart before her eyes.

“Not quite, although I did speak to the captain. The
Spirit
has a motor boat, and we should have the dessert on board in about a half hour,” Logan announced. When no one responded, he looked around the group expectantly. “Well, who has the keys to the car? It would be a shame to make the trip back and not be able to get to the food.”

“I’ve got them,” Tory murmured. She pulled the keys out of her vest pocket and reluctantly handed them to Logan. Why did he have to be the one to come up with a solution? Life just wasn’t fair. Here was the perfect situation for her to vent her anger over her tangled emotions, but no, Logan Herrington had to be her knight in shining armor.

“Don’t worry about thanking me now, I’ll be glad to collect later,” he said, his cocky smile not quite reaching his eyes.

He took the keys, but didn’t release Tory’s hand immediately. She met his hooded gaze, wondering at his hesitant look. When he tugged on her hand, she allowed him to pull her to his side.