Honey and Smoke by Deborah Smith

Maximilian.”
    “I approve. I like the new order of things. There are fewer games.” He sighed dramatically. “Or different games, at least.”
    She took her time coming down from the ladder, fiddling with the curtain draped across the front of her long-sleeved T-shirt. Then, feeling awkward in his presence, and to emulate his cocky, casual attitude, she stuck her hands in the front pockets of her jeans.
    The slit-eyed appraisal Max gave every inch of her was hard on her nerves. She rocked back and forth on her heels, eyeing him with all the nonchalance she could muster. “Sorry I missed the dancing on Saturday night. My escort had to leave early. He had a long drive back to Atlanta.”
    “Poor guy. Then he made the long drive
back
here on Sunday, so he could spend the day with Ann.”
    “He
what
? He did?”
    “Hmmm. I saw them having lunch together at the deli.”
    She recovered her composure a little. “Well, that’s nice. I hope they enjoyed each other’s company.”
    “You’re chicken-livered, Betty. You should have stayed and danced with me Saturday night.”
    “I have a tough liver, thank you. I know how to avoid trouble too. I don’t dance with men who are manipulative and devious.”
    He dismissed her complaint with a lazy wave of one hand. “I’m here to schedule my catered barbecue dinner. Instead of one shindig for twenty people, I’d like ten dinners for two people. You and me.”
    “It doesn’t work that way.”
    “For five-hundred dollars, it ought to.”
    “You probably could have had me at your beck and call for no more than two hundred. Claymore Perkins isn’t an extravagant man—except where his velvet paintings of Elvis are concerned.”
    “So I have you at my beck and call? I like that way of putting it.”
    She shifted impatiently. “When do you want your party? I’m booked up for the next few Saturdays. I haven’t done much catering lately because I’ve been busy here, but that’s about to change. People around the lake have lots of parties at this time of year because the mountains are so pretty. They invite all their friends up.”
    “Do you do any catering on weekdays?”
    “Certainly.”
    “How much advance notice do you need?”
    “For a small group, one day.”
    “I can have you at my beck and call tomorrow then?”
    She thought for a moment. She’d have to go down to her folk’s house in Atlanta and get the bus this evening, then spend all day tomorrow preparing food. Well, she’d been planning to move the bus up here this week, anyway. And it would be best to get the ordeal with Max over with as soon as possible.
    “Tomorrow is fine. Can you actually get nineteenfriends together on such short notice? Are there nineteen people around here who can put up with you?”
    “I’ll just pare down the list of my old girlfriends. Pick the top fifty and draw names.” He chuckled dryly at the deadpan look she gave him. “Actually, I’m going to give my prize to a couple of people who are getting married tomorrow night. I want you to cater their reception.”
    Her double take made him sigh. “See? I’m not such a jackass. They’re elderly and they don’t have much money. A widow and a widower marrying for the second time. Their friends from the senior center are all invited, and they were going to have a reception with cheap cookies and punch. If you’ll provide the barbecue, I’ll provide a wedding cake.”
    “All right.” She was surprised and once again thrown off balance. “What time?”
    “Seven.”
    “Okay.”
    Around Max her emotions had a disturbing way of flip-flopping. Now she wanted to just gaze at him in melting wonder. He looked-down at her with a somber, troubled expression. Neither of them moved, but she felt as if they’d stepped closer. She realized after several seconds that her lips were parted and that she was, indeed, staring at him in wonder.
    “I’ll see you at six,” she mumbled, lost in his eyes. “You’re a nice boy,