Breakfast had been simple at a diner she’d been to once or twice. Eric was the kind of man who enjoyed his breakfast meats and had them all on one plate. She preferred a lighter fare.
He was also a man, she quickly realized, who didn’t like being in public. There was a comfort with him in his house or hers, but when faced with scrutinizing eyes he seemed to become quiet and reserved.
It didn’t take a genius to realize that a man who lived away from town liked it that way. She’d seen him yesterday morning moving in to take care of his horses. There was peace with him. Over breakfast, however, he’d looked as if he were the cattle being sent to slaughter.
As soon as he could, he paid the check and they left the diner. He didn’t mention that anything was wrong and Susan didn’t ask, but she studied him. The closer they got to her house, the softer his tense shoulders became. And when he kissed her goodbye with her back pressed against the front door, she knew there wasn’t anything wrong with that man that twisted her insides. But there was a story there, she decided as she watched him drive away. Perhaps he’d share it with her in time. After all, he’d seemed to be the one talking relationships. Maybe it was his way of telling her he trusted her with whatever was in his soul.
Susan looked down at her watch. She had her phone meeting with Lydia Morgan in an hour. As she walked toward her desk, her mind switched from the giddy, tingly feeling that new romance offered to the solid-minded businesswoman that had been the core of who she was for so long. After having met Lydia Morgan last night, Susan was sure that this could be a very big account to have. It would be best if she kept her mind about her.
An hour later, with the phone ringing in her hand, Susan took a deep breath and waited for Lydia Morgan to answer. On the fifth ring she finally did.
“Good morning, Ms. Hayes,” Lydia’s voice was steady and sure on the other end of the line. “Thank you for calling.”
Susan, a bit dismayed by not having a simple hello, put a smile on her lips with hopes that it would convey through the phone.
“Ms. Morgan,” she coolly offered the salutation. “My pleasure. I have sent you an email with my options and prices on them. Did you receive that?”
“Just now. Thank you. I will show this to my grandfather and let him decide.” There was a moment of silence before Lydia spoke again. “Ms. Hayes…”
“Please call me Susan,” she said still managing that smile that was supposed to resonate in her voice.
“My grandfather would not approve of that, Ms. Hayes,” she began again, “my grandfather asks that our working together be held in the strictest of confidence. He would like your word that you will not mention the job or whom it is for.”
Susan’s shoulders dropped. This was beginning to sound like a bad Craig’s List ad.
“That’s not a problem, Ms. Morgan. I understand confidentiality.”
“Good. He also asks that you not bring your new server, Ms. Waterbury.”
The smile faded quickly. “May I ask why? She’s very personable and extremely efficient.”
“Yes, I met her last night and I agree. Those are his wishes.”
She didn’t like this one bit. The Morgans were going to have to spend a hefty amount of money if she wasn’t to use her staff member or talk about them using her services.
“Understood. Do you have a date in mind for the event?”
“February sixteenth. Seven p.m. sharp.”
Susan bit down on her lip. That was a night she’d have class. She wasn’t going to turn the job away yet. There was something intriguing about the secretive way Lydia approached everything. She’d let the money talk for her. If the payday was going to be worth it, she’d miss class and leave Bethany behind. If they argued price, she’d pass on the job.
“I will put that on the calendar. Ms. Morgan, I’d like to follow up with you on Monday and discuss your menu choices and the cost of the event.”
“That will be fine.”
They set up a time, said their goodbyes, and Susan rested back in her chair.
Lydia Morgan wasn’t as old as she’d sounded on the phone. She did come across as a bit dry in her personality, but Susan didn’t buy into it. When she thought about it a bit more, she could see a lot of herself in Lydia. When Susan was married, she simply wasn’t the person she was now. She watched her words and her mannerisms as if she were afraid to show herself. Her husband had his expectations of how his wife should act and she’d fallen right into the role.
It wasn’t fair really to pin it all on Bret, her ex-husband. She’d allowed herself to be what he wanted her to be. She just hadn’t realized, until ten years later, that it was killing her inside.
Was that Lydia’s story too? Did her grandfather expect her to behave and present herself in such a dormant way?
Susan tapped her pen to her chin. She was going to friend Lydia Morgan.
The smile formed back on her lips, this time honestly.
The mystery intrigued her now. Who was Lydia Morgan under all the manners?