smile, Dawn noted. Sort of. Actually, he was gazing at her as if he wondered where her wits had gone. Well, he wasn’t the only one who wondered that!
“I know all about Betty’s,” she said cynically. “What I can’t figure out is why you want to go there with me.”
“Why not? I found out yesterday that your table manners are fine. Why wouldn’t I want to eat with you?”
“That’s not what I meant.” Dawn had a terrible thought. Suppose he was planning to take her out of the office so he could let her down easy? “You—you aren’t going to fire me, are you?”
“No, I’m not going to fire you. Come on. I haven’t had anything to eat yet. I could really use a cup of coffee and a sweet roll.”
She hesitated. “Well, I—”
“Look. Consider this an assignment if it will make you feel better. I want to discuss a few business ideas I’ve had since last night and I thought it would be more enjoyable if we could do it away from here.”
“Business? You want to discuss business with me? ”
He chuckled. “Yes, Ms. Leroux. I want to hear what you think about possible changes in the newspaper. Can you think of any reason why I shouldn’t run them by you?”
“No. But if you’re planning to try to out-do the Observer, I’m not sure talking about it at Betty’s is a good idea. Nothing stays secret once it’s reached the Bakeshoppe rumor mill.”
“Point taken. We’ll sit in the back and talk quietly, privately,” Tim said with a grin. He nodded toward the door he’d just entered. “Come on. Let’s get out of here before somebody shows up with a crisis that won’t wait and keeps us from our breakfast.”
Dawn wasn’t surprised to see every head turn when they walked into the Bakeshoppe together. By this afternoon, local gossip would probably have them romantically involved. The idea sent a tingle zinging down her spine. Speaking of which, Tim had placed his hand at her back so gently she could hardly feel it, yet she knew without a doubt that it hovered there.
“You shivered,” he said. “If you’re chilly, let’s sit away from the ceiling fans.”
“Okay.”
Dawn led the way past the old original bakery counter to a small round table tucked away in a far corner and slipped gracefully into one of the black-painted wooden chairs before he could pull it out for her.
Buffeted on two sides by shelves crammed with used books and topped with antique knickknacks, she folded her hands on the tabletop and regarded him seriously as he took his place across from her.
“I think it should be safe to talk back here,”Dawn said, “as long as we don’t speak too loudly.” She would have continued if their waitress, Betty’s older daughter, Justine, hadn’t approached with two glasses of ice water and an expectant expression.
“Morning, folks.” Justine pulled out a pencil and poised it over her order pad. “What can I get you?”
Tim looked at Dawn when he said, “Two coffees?”
She nodded.
“And a couple of cinnamon rolls. They smell delicious.”
“That’ll be fine,” Dawn said.
Justine wrote rapidly. “Coming right up. How was that picnic lunch we fixed for you yesterday, Mr. Hamilton? Satisfactory?”
“Very good. The basket’s in my car. I’ll have Herman return it to you.”
Dawn waited until their order had been delivered and they were once again alone before she said, “Okay. What’s your idea? And why did we have to come over here to talk about it?”
“Partly because it’s not a formal proposal. Not yet,” he said. “I’d like to get your take on it before I go any further. Once I mention it to Ed Bradshaw he’ll want to handle everything the same as he always did when Jeremy was running the show, and that’s not what I have in mind.”
“Really.” She forked a bite of warm cinnamon roll into her mouth. “Umm, this is good. Go on.”
“It came to me while I was talking to Stuart Meyers last night. Colorful characters like him aretoo
“I know all about Betty’s,” she said cynically. “What I can’t figure out is why you want to go there with me.”
“Why not? I found out yesterday that your table manners are fine. Why wouldn’t I want to eat with you?”
“That’s not what I meant.” Dawn had a terrible thought. Suppose he was planning to take her out of the office so he could let her down easy? “You—you aren’t going to fire me, are you?”
“No, I’m not going to fire you. Come on. I haven’t had anything to eat yet. I could really use a cup of coffee and a sweet roll.”
She hesitated. “Well, I—”
“Look. Consider this an assignment if it will make you feel better. I want to discuss a few business ideas I’ve had since last night and I thought it would be more enjoyable if we could do it away from here.”
“Business? You want to discuss business with me? ”
He chuckled. “Yes, Ms. Leroux. I want to hear what you think about possible changes in the newspaper. Can you think of any reason why I shouldn’t run them by you?”
“No. But if you’re planning to try to out-do the Observer, I’m not sure talking about it at Betty’s is a good idea. Nothing stays secret once it’s reached the Bakeshoppe rumor mill.”
“Point taken. We’ll sit in the back and talk quietly, privately,” Tim said with a grin. He nodded toward the door he’d just entered. “Come on. Let’s get out of here before somebody shows up with a crisis that won’t wait and keeps us from our breakfast.”
Dawn wasn’t surprised to see every head turn when they walked into the Bakeshoppe together. By this afternoon, local gossip would probably have them romantically involved. The idea sent a tingle zinging down her spine. Speaking of which, Tim had placed his hand at her back so gently she could hardly feel it, yet she knew without a doubt that it hovered there.
“You shivered,” he said. “If you’re chilly, let’s sit away from the ceiling fans.”
“Okay.”
Dawn led the way past the old original bakery counter to a small round table tucked away in a far corner and slipped gracefully into one of the black-painted wooden chairs before he could pull it out for her.
Buffeted on two sides by shelves crammed with used books and topped with antique knickknacks, she folded her hands on the tabletop and regarded him seriously as he took his place across from her.
“I think it should be safe to talk back here,”Dawn said, “as long as we don’t speak too loudly.” She would have continued if their waitress, Betty’s older daughter, Justine, hadn’t approached with two glasses of ice water and an expectant expression.
“Morning, folks.” Justine pulled out a pencil and poised it over her order pad. “What can I get you?”
Tim looked at Dawn when he said, “Two coffees?”
She nodded.
“And a couple of cinnamon rolls. They smell delicious.”
“That’ll be fine,” Dawn said.
Justine wrote rapidly. “Coming right up. How was that picnic lunch we fixed for you yesterday, Mr. Hamilton? Satisfactory?”
“Very good. The basket’s in my car. I’ll have Herman return it to you.”
Dawn waited until their order had been delivered and they were once again alone before she said, “Okay. What’s your idea? And why did we have to come over here to talk about it?”
“Partly because it’s not a formal proposal. Not yet,” he said. “I’d like to get your take on it before I go any further. Once I mention it to Ed Bradshaw he’ll want to handle everything the same as he always did when Jeremy was running the show, and that’s not what I have in mind.”
“Really.” She forked a bite of warm cinnamon roll into her mouth. “Umm, this is good. Go on.”
“It came to me while I was talking to Stuart Meyers last night. Colorful characters like him aretoo
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