“Exactly.” He reached for one of the plastic-coated menus stuck between the paper-napkin dispenser and a wooden box holding salt, pepper, ketchup and pepper sauce. “You haven’t ordered yet, have you?”
“No, I just got here. I did ask for iced tea…oh, here it is.” She smiled up at Mindy, who unceremoniously plunked two mason jars full of iced tea in front of them.
“What’ll y’all have?” Mindy asked without bothering with an order pad.
Clark glanced up from the menu. “What’s today’s special?”
“Same as it is every Friday. Chicken-fried steak with mashed potatoes, cream gravy, white beans and turnip greens, or fried catfish with coleslaw, hush puppies and green tomato relish.”
Clark replaced the menu. “I’ll have the chicken-fried steak.”
“Very healthy choice, Clark,” Jamie teased, having heard him complain more than once about his difficulty losing weight.
He sighed. “You’re right. Add a green salad to that, will you, Mindy? With Thousand Island dressing.”
Jamie chuckled and shook her head. “I don’t suppose you have anything broiled or grilled, Mindy?”
“Got the diet plate. A fried hamburger patty, cottage cheese and canned peaches.”
Cora’s Café had been serving the same “diet plate” since the 1950s, despite changes in diet philosophies. Jamie conceded defeat and ordered the catfish.
When they were alone again, Clark laced his fingers together, rested his hands on the table and tried to look professional…which wasn’t an easy task, considering his resemblance to the Pillsbury doughboy, Jamie thought with secret amusement. “I’ve gone over all your records and everything seems to be in order,” he told her. “I’ve worked up figures for your estimated quarterly tax payments—the first one’s due next week, by the way. I have your paperwork in my briefcase here at my feet. I’ll give it to you after we’ve had our lunch.”
She nodded. “I appreciate it, Clark. I was pretty sure everything was in order, but it’s nice to have a professional opinion. It’s too inconvenient for me to have an accountant in New York while I’m living in Honoria.”
He looked a bit smug. “Your accounts are relatively easy to manage, but I agree that you need a professional to keep an eye on them. You invested wisely while you were in New York. You shouldn’t have to worry about retirement.”
She felt a surge of satisfaction at his words. He could have no idea, of course, how important it was for her to have a sense of security about money. She hadn’t chosen a safe, predictable career path—acting was hardly a profession known for job security—but she had lived frugally and worked steadily as a substitute teacher between acting jobs. As impractical as she was in some ways, Jamie never fooled around when it came to money. She had no intention of ending up like her parents, a couple of aging alcoholics living hand-to-mouth on government checks.
It had been Clark who had suggested they have this meeting over lunch, telling her it was a nice, casual way to start off their business relationship. Jamie hadn’t hesitated to accept, since she had few plans now that she was on summer break. Because she knew he was in the middle of a divorce, she didn’t ask about his wife, but it wasn’t difficult to get him talking about his two sons. She concentrated on her somewhat guilty enjoyment of the fried catfish while Clark liberally sprinkled pepper sauce on his greens and bragged about his boys.
They were almost finished with their meal when Trevor entered the café with his father. They paused at the table, Caleb speaking first. “Well, hello, Jamie. Clark, how’s it going?”
“Pretty good, Caleb. How about you?”
“Oh, getting along.”
Jamie glanced at Trevor and found him looking at her with a frown. He quickly smoothed the expression, but she wondered why he’d looked so disapproving. She couldn’t imagine what she’d done to annoy him. She’d thought they’d parted on good t
erms.
“Hello, Jamie,” he said with a formal nod of greeting. His tone was noticeably cooler when he added, “Clark.”
Clark’s response could only be described as frigid. “Trevor.”
Surprised by the obvious antagonism between the two men, Jamie speculated on what might have caused it. The McBrides were notorious for their local feuds, but, as far as she knew, there’d never been a problem between the McBrides and Clark’s family. This must be something personal.
“How are the children, Trevor?” she asked in an effort to ease the tension a bit.
“They’re fine, thank you.”
“Have you found a new nanny yet?”
“Yes. I have one on a trial basis now.”
“I hope she works out for you.”
“Thanks. Dad, we’d better grab a table while there’s one available. Mindy’s been giving us the look.”