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He had to stop thinking about Anne Hawthorne. He was here to do a job, and once finished, he’d go away. She would stay here with her family and her successful business.

Maybe if he confided in her—no. If he told Anne he wasn’t the groom, he would be breaking the contract, and it would put her in an awkward position with her cousin Forbes. Anne would ask questions George couldn’t answer, and that would only make matters worse.

After lunch yesterday, though, he was hard pressed to deny the growing attraction he felt for her. He wanted to spend more time with her, wanted to be the one to whom she told all her secrets, in whom she confided her dreams and fears. Asking her to go out socially was out of the question as long as she thought he was the groom. He couldn’t do anything to compromise his employment or Anne.

Why was he still here? Nothing he could do or say would justify his lurking outside of Anne’s office at nine o’clock in the evening. He crossed Town Square toward the lights and music emanating from the Riverwalk. He fruitlessly wished Anne had still been working so he could have invited her to dinner.

He grimaced. Yes, a romantic dinner with someone he’d spent the last two weeks purposely deceiving. What a brilliant idea.

He chose an open-air café, and the hostess showed him to a small wrought-iron table. He took the chair that faced the river. Although his stomach clenched with hunger, his appetite was gone. Nothing on the menu piqued his interest. He ordered a Caesar salad and let the waitress talk him into trying their peach-flavored iced tea.

What did Anne do outside of her work? His own job was such that he was always on call, necessitating that he drop his own plans whenever his employer wanted something. Anne was self-employed. She could set her own hours. What interests did she pursue? Did she have hobbies?

He’d had a glimpse of that outside life yesterday when she turned on the music in the car. To hear the strains of his favorite singer coming from her stereo… He’d never met another woman who enjoyed listening to the classics. Most women thought he was odd for not enjoying the latest noisemakers.

With whom did she spend her free time? Obviously, she had family in town. He shook his head, remembering her cousins. Jennifer Guidry—pretty, young, and flirtatious—had mentioned seeing Anne again on Thursday night. Not for the first time did he wish he had a group of friends or relatives to spend time with. Although he guarded his personal space and private time jealously, he still needed fellowship and companionship.

Lights from the buildings behind him twinkled on the surface of the river. He leaned forward, resting his elbows on the small table.

Are you testing me, God? Is this attraction supposed to be a test of my ability to keep my word to my employer while not lying to Anne? How am I supposed to do both?

He gave the waitress a tight smile as she set the glass of tea down. Absently, he lifted it and took a sip, then groaned. It had taken him years to learn to enjoy cold tea, but he’d forgotten restaurants in the South always overloaded theirs with sugar.

He flagged down another server and requested a glass of water with no ice and a slice of lemon.

He envied Anne. She’d found what she enjoyed doing and had created a flourishing business. He was jealous of Jennifer Guidry’s precocious success as a restaurateur. The girl couldn’t be thirty years old yet had built a restaurant that seemed to thrive in an out-of-the-way town when the chances for failure in the food-service industry were high.

Both women had found a way to make their dreams come true, while his still remained only a fantasy. Maybe he wasn’t praying about it often enough or listening for God’s answer hard enough.

“George?”

George started at Forbes’s voice. He stood and extended his right hand. “Good evening, Forbes.”

The lawyer smiled, his eyes reflecting the glow of the Japanese paper lanterns strung around the café. “I’m glad to see you’re getting out and enjoying Bonneterre.”

“Yes. The city has many charms.” George glanced around at the women gaping or batting their eyelashes at Forbes. “Won’t you join me?”

“Ah, I’d love to, but—” Forbes nodded toward a nearby table at which sat a breathtaking redhead. He grinned. “It’s a business dinner, but that doesn’t keep her from wanting my sole attention.”

George smiled. “If you have to do business over dinner, at least the company is pleasant to look at.”

“Speaking of dinner company, do you have plans Thursday night?”

“Not particularly. Just work.”

“Now, George, you know what they say: All work and no play makes George a dull boy. I know you’ve got a reputation to protect, so bring Courtney along with you, if you don’t think that’ll make things too uncomfortable.”

“Miss Courtney is in Paris.” George’s mind raced. Thursday was the night Anne and Jenn were supposed to be having dinner.

“Then you must come. I’ll make sure no one asks you any probing questions. You can’t just sit around at home by yourself for the next four months.”

“Just how many will be at this dinner?”

“Oh, five or six others—Anne, my sisters Jennifer and Meredith, a few other miscellaneous cousins.” Forbes squeezed George’s shoulder. “Say you’ll come. Anne will never forgive me if she finds out you’re spending the night by yourself when you could be with us.”

“When and where?”

“The Fishin’ Shack—it’s Jenn’s restaurant. Take River Road south out of town and go about twenty minutes to the town of Comeaux—”

George held his hand up with a smile. “I’ve been there once already, so it should be no trouble to locate again.”

“Excellent. We’ll see you there around seven Thursday night.”

George sank into his chair. He’d get to see Anne in a social setting and meet more of her family. Would she be happy to see him? She seemed to enjoy the time they’d spent together yesterday—

No, he was deluding himself. The attention Anne showed him amounted to nothing more than professional courtesy. She thought he was a client—someone who was getting married—but he was letting it go to his head, thinking that somehow, deep down, she must know he wasn’t the groom, imagining she was as attracted to him as he was to her.

The story of his life—he liked a woman he couldn’t have because of his social status or job. He had to find some way to cure himself of the attraction and refocus on the job at hand.

Chapter 10

With a wave and return greeting, Anne swept past the hostess and made her way through the crowded restaurant to the large round table in the back. She wasn’t the first to arrive, as several cousins sat around talking and laughing over their iced tea and hush puppies.

Meredith scooted out the chair beside her for Anne, who slid into it gratefully. “Working late?”

Anne nodded. “Probably would have worked straight through dinner if Forbes hadn’t called me to tell me he was leaving the office later than usual. I didn’t tell him I was still at work myself.”

“Big wedding this weekend?”

“Yeah, so I’m going to have to eat and run.”

“I’m just glad you’ve been able to make it to as many dinners this summer as you have. When you’re not out on dates, that is.” Meredith winked.

Anne grabbed a glass and filled it from the pitcher of sweet tea in the middle of the table. Thursday night dinners with the family were easier to work into her schedule than dates with men she didn’t know and didn’t particularly want to meet. With her family, she could be herself; she could put aside the persona of the outgoing, vivacious professional woman everyone else wanted to see her as. She could let her vulnerabilities show, could let someone else support her for a little while.

“I’m a little surprised Forbes isn’t here yet.” She looked over her shoulder toward the door. “If he left downtown around the same time I left…”