“There was no skinny-dipping incident. Whenever I take Honey into your pool, I wear a very conservative one-piece suit.” Her eyebrows drew together as she regarded him sternly. “This isn’t funny. What if that’s what everyone is thinking?”
“So what if it is?” Linc was completely intrigued by what Claire’s body language had revealed. He offered her a lazy grin. If the gossip was widespread, they were already perceived as being guilty of having an affair. Part of him wanted to just go ahead and prove everybody right. “I’m sure everyone will congratulate me on my excellent taste in women.”
She huffed impatiently. “You should be worried that it will appear as if you took advantage of someone you employ.”
“Anyone who knows me will realize I would never do that. If anything happened between us, it would be because you couldn’t keep your hands off me.” His outrageous words produced a squawk of outrage.
“I am not seeing the humor in this,” she said, her annoyance making her look more beautiful than ever.
Seeing that his teasing had taken her past her comfort zone, Linc sobered. “Are you worried about your reputation?”
“I’m your housekeeper. Why would I care what anyone thinks of me?”
“But you do,” he guessed and could see from her expression that he was right. “Don’t worry. No one who knows you would believe we were engaged in an affair, illicit or otherwise.”
“Why is that?” she asked, her voice giving nothing away.
“Because everyone who knows you is aware...” He hesitated to continue, conscious of stepping over a line they hadn’t to this point approached.
“Aware of what?”
“Your husband. That he was very important to you.”
It occurred to him as he glanced her way, watching emotions play across her features, that he wanted her to deny how she continued to cling to her dead husband’s memory. And why was that? As much as he wanted to, pursuing her was a bad idea.
“There are a lot of people who don’t know me and will be quick to believe the worst,” Claire said.
“Why do you care what those people believe? They are nobody to you.”
“I don’t. But you should. Those are your friends and neighbors. People in this town who matter.”
“You don’t think you matter? I do. You and Honey both.”
“Well, of course Honey matters to me. And you matter to me. I mean, as my employer,” she rushed on. “And your reputation matters to me. It should matter to you as well. Think of what your mother would say if she caught wind of the gossip. The whole thing could blow up into a huge scandal.”
“You matter to me, too,” he said, ignoring the latter part of what she had said. When she gave a start, he wondered if his stronger feelings had leaked through. “You and Honey. And I don’t give a damn about the gossip or what my mother thinks about it.”
His phone began to ring and his sister’s name flashed on the screen built into the car dashboard. As much as he wanted to ignore the interruption and continue this fascinating conversation with Claire, she’d wonder why he hadn’t taken Sawyer’s call.
“Hey,” he said after keying in the call. “Claire and I are on our way back from dinner at a restaurant near Wappoo Creek.”
After a brief pause, Sawyer asked, “You and Claire had dinner together?”
“It’s our anniversary,” he explained, wishing he didn’t have to defend the act o
f taking Claire and Honey out for a simple meal. “She’s been working for me for a year.”
“Oh, sure. It’s surprising how fast the time goes.”
“You have that right. So, what’s up?”
“We’re finalizing the list of historic homes for our holiday tour and I want to make sure you’re still willing to participate.”
His sister was an active member of the Preservation Society of Charleston, working tirelessly to promote conservation of the city’s historic homes and public buildings. In the fall, they offered several tours of historic homes and gardens. This year they were trying something new: a mid-December tour of homes decorated for Christmas.
“Do you have a date in mind?”
“It’s probably going to be the second Saturday in December from two to five. We have six houses south of Broad participating at the moment.”