Chapter 1♥Ice Cream Gold Diggers
“What is that guy doing?” Marianne, as always, didn’t try to keep her voice down.
In this case, it didn’t matter. Her words wouldn’t carry in a bowling alley filled with the sounds of bad pop music, clattering balls and pins, and the laughter of people who actually enjoyed the sport. Elinor did not enjoy bowling, but she was trying her best to put up a good front for the sake of her younger sisters and her mom. Tonight was supposed to be a fun reprieve from unpacking.
Elinor didn’t have to ask Marianne who she was referring to. The guy two lanes over stuck out like a sore thumb with his pressed khaki pants and crisp white shirt, his tie and clipboard.
Elinor watched as he got up to take his turn, going from walking up to swinging in one fluid, careless motion. The ball took a straight shot down the lane and knocked down every pin. There was no victory fist in the air, not even an acknowledgement, really. He went back to his clipboard and leaned toward the ancient, leathery couple he was sitting with, asking them something and then carefully writing in response to their answer.
“Dedicated census-taker,” Marianne surmised. “Or time share salesman. If they let him follow them around for the next forty-eight hours while listening to his sales pitch, they’ll get a free seven-night vacation in the Bahamas.”
“What are you talking about?” Greta pulled at Marianne’s arm. “It’s your turn to bowl already.”
Marianne patted their little sister on the head and went to take her turn. Marianne’s swing was not fluid. It looked like she was tossing out mop water, and the ball hit the lane with a thud before swerving into the gutter and taking its sweet time rolling to the back.
“I hate this game,” she said, sitting back down in defeat. “Which is why I’d much rather people-watch. What is our mystery man doing now?”
Elinor didn’t want to admit how carefully she’d been watching the guy in the khaki pants with the bowling skills. He had a kind, handsome face. It wasn’t often she found those two things combined.
“I don’t think he’s a salesman,” she said in answer to Marianne. “I think he’s their insurance adjuster putting in a claim for them.”
Marianne tapped her chin. “Or he’s the piano tuner. And they insisted on paying him in bowling coupons clipped from junk mail.”
“Now you’re just being rude.”
Marianne stuck her tongue out at Elinor. So mature for a twenty-two-year-old. “Take your turn or Greta will throw another fit.”
“I will not,” Greta huffed. “But you should take your turn, Ellie.”
Elinor got up and found her ball. She noticed it was the insurance guy/piano tuner’s turn too, and when they stood in front of their lanes together, he looked over for the first time and smiled. Wow, he had a great smile. Elinor’s insides melted, and without thinking, she bobbed on her feet and dipped her head in response before throwing a completely atrocious attempt to knock down pins. The ball stalled several feet from the end of the lane in the gutter, and Elinor had to go retrieve it, with Marianne and Greta laughing their heads off and Mom hollering her never-ending encouragement.
“He got a spare,” Marianne said when Elinor finished her walk of shame. “And what was that? Did you curtsy to him?”
“No.”
Marianne laughed. “You totally did. Let me guess, he’s the handsomest nerd of your acquaintance.”
“We’re not acquainted with him.”
“Not yet.” Marianne stood, getting that adventurous gleam in her eyes—the one with a long history of making Elinor nervous.
“Marianne, sit down right now.”
Marianne ignored her, of course. She headed straight for the guy, who was back to sitting with his clipboard. Elinor watched in dismay, though she couldn’t help admiring the friendly, open look on the man’s face when Marianne sat down next to him. Only a little crease between his eyebrows betrayed his apprehension at being approached by a stranger.
“What is Marianne doing?” Mom asked, coming over with her bowling ball cradled in her arms like a sleepy toddler.
“Meeting people. Are you surprised?”
Mom smiled. “I’m never surprised by anything Marianne does. But what was that curtsy thing you did just now? I don’t think it’s helping your bowling game.”
“Definitely not. Oh, here they come. Heaven help us.”
Marianne and the man in khakis were approaching, and when his eyes locked with Elinor’s she smiled back and stayed calm this time. Being new in town, she’d have to get used to meeting people again. Might as well start with this guy. Wow, he was even more gorgeous close up.
For a second, Elinor was afraid Marianne would want him for herself, with his thick, blond, wavy hair, blue eyes, and a body that even office-wear couldn’t hide, but if that were the case, Marianne wouldn’t be bringing him directly over here, or looking at Elinor with such blatant hope. Nope, Marianne was in full matchmaking mode. That was almost worse.
“Mom, Elinor, this is Edward Ferrars.”
