Miz Scarlet and the Bewildered Bridegroom by Sara M. Barton Page B

likes him.”
    Famous last
words.
Popular people, just like
irritating and annoying people, often attract the wrong kind of
attention. There’s something about power and prestige that make
psychopaths, sociopaths, and creeps want to destroy good people.
“What’s he studying?”
    “Civil
engineering.”
    “Those guys aren’t
normally known for wild and crazy behavior,” I decided. “They
almost border on....”
    I stopped myself from
suggesting the Shark Boy was boring. Frankly, I was rather pleased
that Jenny had found a young man who seemed both level-headed and
considerate. He was already a better choice than the last one she
brought home. Carson Kristal, pre-law, was so full of himself it
was a miracle he didn’t burst at the seams. If there’s one thing I
can’t stand, it’s a pretentious, self-serving student who feels
compelled to tell every adult within listening range what we are
doing wrong. I personally considered drop-kicking the little cheese
weasel back to his mama in Montpelier, but Kenny talked me out of
it. He insisted Jenny would grow out of the relationship if we just
let her be. It took a month longer than expected, but one day
Carson made the mistake of telling her she could do better than to
work for the Four Acorns Inn while she was in
school.
    “Don’t you find Miz
Scarlet more than a little bossy?” he queried her one afternoon, as
he sipped his cappuccino at the mall. “I mean, the woman never
married. She’s obviously jealous of you, with your looks. How else
can you explain the lousy hours she makes you work? Why don’t you
just apply for a full scholarship and move into my apartment? That
way, you don’t have to scrub toilets any more, Cinderella. Let her
find some other poor slob to exploit!”
    “Exploit?” Those were
fighting words. “You think Miz Scarlet exploits me? That woman
saved my life, you moron!”
    It was true. When a
violent fiend chased her down the street in Bay Head, New Jersey, I
actually hit him with my car to prevent him from butchering the
poor girl. By the time he picked himself up from the pavement, I
was already pulling her into my Ford Focus and driving like a
maniac down the street. Jenny’s biggest complaint at that moment in
time was typical. She thought I should stop for the red light, but
with the killer hot on our trail, running a traffic light seemed
the least of my problems.
    What Carson didn’t
realize was that Jenny actually has some money in the bank. Her
single mother socked away every spare dollar for years, so her
daughter could go to college, but the teenager almost lost the
opportunity, thanks to a con artist who tried to rob her blind. We
helped her recover her inheritance and then Bur guided her through
the steps to set up a trust that provides a small monthly stipend.
Her salary at the inn helps to cover almost all of the rest of her
expenses. And as long as she is enrolled in classes and getting
good grades, I have promised to pay fifty percent of her tuition at
the University of Connecticut. Why shouldn’t I? As that twit,
Carson, so indelicately pointed out, I never did marry. I like to
think of Jenny as the child I never got to have.
    “Someone’s flashing
headlights at us,” she announced, bringing me back from my musing.
A moment later, the Central Street Garage flat bed truck slowly
rumbled past us and pulled up ahead of the Volkswagen. Two men
hopped down from the cab and joined the group huddled around the
car. We watched them walk around the compact car, kneeling at every
tire to examine the damage.
    “Oh no!” Jenny suddenly
sat up in the passenger seat, turning around as blue lights flashed
into Kenny’s SUV.
    “Oh no
what?”
    “There’s a police car
pulling up.”
    “Honey, the cop is
stopping to make sure we’re all safe. Consider this a good
thing.”
    Sure enough, the state
trooper nodded as he passed us and continued on to the cluster of
men surrounding the Golf. Once he personally inspected the