Excerpt of Flirting With Temptation by Kelley St. John

Chapter 1

Babette Robinson’s breath caught, her stomach knotted, and her heart did that whole shall-I-keep-beating-or-shall-I-stop thing when Ethan Eubanks glanced across the reception hall, held up his glass of champagne and smiled toward her table. He was smiling at his wife, Babette’s sister, but that didn’t matter. Babette simply couldn’t control the typical response to seeing him, not because she had any feelings for Ethan that way, but because he was the spitting image of his twin, and whether she liked it or not, she always had some form of Jeff’s image tickling the back of her brain. It was such a nice image, after all. And seeing Ethan brought it right up front and center.

Sandy blond hair, turquoise eyes, sexy smirk. Jeff’s skin was more golden, due to his full-time beach residence, but other than that, the two were identical. Either one of them could double for Jude Law and totally be convincing. But it wasn’t Jude that Babette saw when she looked at her brother-in-law; it was Jeff. And her current vision of Jeff had him in the buff.

Again, not a bad image.

"Hellloooo. Earth to Babette, and a gentle reminder--that’s Ethan," Clarise said, leaning forward and snapping her fingers in front of Babette’s face.

"Trust me, I know."

"Yet you still see Jeff when you look at him. You realize that it’s somewhat uncomfortable to watch my sister’s eyes glaze over every time she looks at my husband."

"Right. Sorry."

"I realize that I should take it easy on you, since it’s your birthday," Clarise said, "but I’d like you to at least attempt to remember which brother is attending Richard and Genie’s wedding."

"Jeff should be here," Babette mumbled against her glass, then sipped more champagne. "Richard is his friend, and Jeff was with me when I first realized that he still loved Genie. It’s because of us that they worked things out last year, and that now they’re married."

"Exactly what did Jeff have to do with it?" Clarise took a bite of the chocolate groom’s cake, then hummed her contentment. "Sure, he introduced you to his friends, but you’re the one who made it your mission to learn the story behind the tension between them and get them back together."

"Well, I wouldn’t have met them without Jeff, now would I?"

Clarise swallowed another bite of cake, smirked. "Jeff has been swamped with work lately. Plus, it isn’t like he lives right down the street. It’s a six-hour drive from Destin to Birmingham."

"His family owns the company. He can take off when he wants, and you know it. And I know how far it is." She’d driven it, plenty of times, when she’d visited him at his condo on the beach. Visited. Such a light word for everything they experienced in that condo, and on that beach, for that matter.

"For someone who hasn’t even spoken to him in months, you seem mighty disappointed that he didn’t show. And you’ve hardly spent any time at all with your gorgeous date." Clarise scanned the reception hall. "Where is he, anyway?"

"Probably with Jesilyn."

"With Jesilyn?" Clarise’s brows hitched beneath her bangs. Jesilyn was one of their dearest friends. Babette had spotted the sparks between her and Robbie immediately, so she left them alone. Or rather, she’d nudged them along. Didn’t matter that he’d come with Babette; she’d only brought him on the off-chance of making Jeff jealous anyway.

"Yes, with Jesilyn," Babette said dismissively. "And that’s fine. Now, what were we talking about, again?" She knew, of course, but she didn’t want to be the one to bring Jeff back up. And she also knew that Clarise wouldn’t disappoint.

"We were talking about my brother-in-law," Clarise answered. "You’ve hardly mentioned him since your split in the summer, and suddenly you can’t stop talking about him. Wouldn’t have anything to do with that announcement in the society section of today’s paper, would it?"

"Announcement?" Babette turned her eyes toward the dance floor and wished that the band would start back up. The current lull in music wasn’t affording her any opportunity to feign more interest in the dancing than the conversation.

"Nice try, sis," Clarise said, and Babette glanced back to see her grinning as she took another bite. "But I know you too well. You read the announcement that he and Kitty Carelle are engaged, and you’re wondering if I know the details."

Babette started to answer, but was halted by the sudden appearance of their grandmother.

"Whew, I’ve got to sit down for a breather. The twins are adorable, but they’re running their great-grandmother ragged." Gertrude Robinson dropped into an empty chair at the table, placed a big slab of white wedding cake in front of her and grinned at Clarise and Babette. Her bold platinum waves were a little less exuberant than they had been at the wedding service, kind of flopping in toward her face and shielding her eyes, but nothing could shield the sparkling pink glitter on her cheeks. "Don’t you just love a Christmas wedding?" she asked, plucking a swirl of icing off the side of her cake and popping it in her mouth. "All those poinsettias and candles. Really something."

"Granny," Clarise said, looking behind her grandmother as she spoke, "Where are Lindy and Little Ethan?"

"Oh, don’t worry, child." She picked up a cloth napkin from the table and used it to fan her flushed face. "I left your little angels in good hands. They’re currently going through the dessert line with their Grandma Olivia."

Babette hadn’t realized Jeff’s mother was attending the event, but it made sense, since Richard worked as an executive for Eubanks Elegant Apparel. "I didn’t know Olivia was here. I haven’t had a chance to talk to her," Babette said, gazing toward the dessert line to see if she could spot her niece and nephew, and Jeff’s mother.

"And what, I wonder, would you and Olivia discuss, if you happened to talk to her?" Clarise glanced at Granny Gert before adding, "I mean, after you saw today’s society pages and all."

Granny’s focus turned from Clarise to Babette. "I wondered if you read it, but you didn’t say anything, and I figured you might not want to talk about him today, on your birthday, and especially at a wedding. Kind of always thought we’d be attending a wedding between you two, you know, instead of him planning one with that uppity society queen. Personally, I think you should call him up, or drive down to see him in Florida, whatever it takes for you two to work things out. He isn’t married yet. I’ve told you about how I hooked your grandfather, haven’t I, the first time I found him alone in his barn?"

Before Babette or Clarise could answer, Granny barreled on. "He was nineteen, I was seventeen, and he had my heart, same way he did the rest of his life, God rest his soul." She winked. "I had to give him a bit of a push in that barn, but it was worth the effort."

"And how was it you gave him a push?" Clarise asked, as though she couldn’t recite Granny Gert’s famed story by heart. Babette leaned forward to hear, even though she’d heard it just as many times.

Granny Gert grinned, excited. "I told him I had a mind to kiss him and a mind to marry him. And then I did both." She turned toward Babette. "I used gumption, and I think you should use some too, with Jeff, if you want to know how I feel about it."

Babette never had to wonder how Granny Gert felt about anything. Granny never made any bones about telling her, in detail, and quite often. And since they lived next door to each other, with Granny occupying the other half of Babette’s duplex, Granny’s opinion was always readily available.

The band started back up playing Shout! and every person on the dance floor shot their hands in the air and chanted the lyrics. Genie, still in her wedding gown, shimmied up to the stage and danced with the lead singer, while her new husband cheered.

Babette took advantage of the increased noise level to ask what she really wanted to know. "Okay, I’ll admit it. I saw the announcement, and I want details."

Clarise shrugged. "I don’t have any. In fact, we just learned about the engagement this morning. I think Jeff had planned to tell the family in person, but then he learned that the news had leaked to the paper, and he called."

"And?" Babette asked.

"He said that he was getting married, and he’d tell us all about it when they come home in a few days for Christmas."

Genie’s voice, horribly off key, suddenly boomed over the microphone as the song reached its climax. "Now, wai-a-ait a minute," she sang, while Richard, and every other guest, burst out laughing.

"Clarise, I’m taking the little darlings out to the foyer to see the big Christmas tree." Olivia Eubanks’s voice was louder than Babette had ever heard it, with her trying to pitch it over Genie’s shrill singing and over the four-year-olds, both begging to go see the "big tree."

"That’s fine," Clarise said, ruffling Little Ethan’s hair as she spoke. "As long as both of you are good for Grandma Olivia."

They bobbed their heads, while Olivia’s attention moved past her daughter-in-law and to Clarise’s sister. "Babette, I almost didn’t recognize you with the long blond hair. It’s quite stunning, dear."

"Thanks." Babette noted the crisp winter white suit that perfectly accented Olivia’s classic creamy white waves. The look was something totally befitting Meryl Streep’s character in The Devil Wears Prada, except where Miranda Priestly’s face always held a hint of disdain toward the world in general, Olivia’s shone with kindness.

"Last time I saw you, you had a black bob, didn’t you? Actually, that looked very nice as well," Olivia said with a smile, while Clarise gave the kids additional instructions on what to touch, or not to touch, when they saw the Christmas tree.

"I thought she looked like Jackie Kennedy then, didn’t you?" Granny Gert asked Olivia.

"Yes, I did," Olivia agreed. "Oh, Babette, I wanted to compliment you on the work you did for the Fall catalog. Preston went on and on about the photos you took at the last shoot, and when I saw the finished product, I could see why. You really are an excellent photographer."

"It helps that all of the Eubanks clothes are so incredible," Babette said.

"Well, I’d agree with you there, though I know that the models help, too. However, I also know it takes a photographer with a good eye to capture the look my husband and his boys want for the business."

His boys. Ethan and Jeff were thirty-eight, but still "boys" in Olivia’s eyes. Babette mentally willed Olivia to say something about Jeff’s engagement.

Didn’t happen.

"Preston mentioned you’d taken a new job at an assisted living center, but he said you’d still be able to shoot our catalogs," Olivia said. "If we put out more than two catalogs a year, maybe your work with us could be something more than part time. Anyway, I’m glad to know that you can do both."

Babette swallowed, nodded. Maybe Olivia wouldn’t ask for details about the new job. Thankfully, Lindy and Little Ethan chose that moment to grab her hands and begin tugging her from the table.

"Come on," Little Ethan urged.

Olivia laughed, said her goodbyes, then let the twins lead her away, before Babette learned anything at all about Jeff and Kitty Carelle.

She turned back to Granny and Clarise, while the music died to a whisper as the group got to the "a little bit softer now" part.

"Oh, honey, you were fired again, weren’t you?" Granny asked, loudly.

Babette prayed that the "little bit louder" portion of the song got here soon, before everyone at the reception heard her job woes.

"It just happened yesterday. How did you hear already?" She really hadn’t wanted to discuss yet another job loss on her birthday.

Granny’s mouth curled in a bit, not quite a frown, but not far from it. "Oh, honey, no one told me. I could see it on your face when Olivia mentioned it."

"I missed it, but I was looking at the kids," Clarise said. "What happened?"

"Basically, I caused a fight between two guys in wheelchairs, then received a pink slip with yesterday’s paycheck."

The corners of Granny Gert’s pink glossed lips gave up the fight and tugged all the way down in a full frown. "I don’t get it. You were doing great at the assisted living center. All of my friends there loved you. They said so, all the time. Why, Maud Lovett said just this week that they’d never had more fun with an activities director than with you."

"So how, exactly, did you cause a wheelchair fight?" Clarise asked, and she had the good manners not to smile or laugh when she said it, quite a feat, when considering the image those words created: silver hair, slinging fists, and wheelchairs. An odd combination, for sure, but one that Babette had seen firsthand. Not pretty.

"Remember how I told you I thought Lambert Wiggins had his eye on one of the ladies from the quilting class?"

Clarise shook her head. "No, I don’t."

Granny nodded. "You told me, dear, when you were explaining the whole body language thing. And you know, I’m learning to spot some of the signs myself, when I’m at the center and out shopping and all. It does come in handy."

" ‘The body language thing?’ " Clarise asked.

"Babette has been studying up on body language," Granny said.

Clarise rubbed her eyes, then squinted toward Babette. "Studying up? Oh, Babette, are you going back to school again?"

"Don’t worry, I’m learning about it on my own. I’m done with degrees. Heaven knows I can’t handle any more student loans."

Clarise sighed. Babette couldn’t blame her; the whole family knew she’d dug herself in deep with all of the debt she owed to three different universities, because she simply couldn’t make up her mind about what she wanted to do. Too bad she didn’t realize she liked trying to figure people out before her job at Shady Pines. Maybe she could’ve gotten a degree in psychology or something like that.

"Babette has a knack for reading folks," Granny said, her train of thought apparently in line with Babette’s. "Why, she told me after her first day at the center who hung out with who, who despised who, and even who the denture thief was."

"The denture thief? Someone was actually stealing dentures?" Clarise wrinkled her nose disgustedly, while Babette laughed.

"Not exactly stealing. Borrowing. And that one really didn’t involve any body language. I’d noticed that Ms. Mulhaney was on a soft diet, since she didn’t have teeth. Then I saw her munching on an apple at lunch. Later on, she was all gums again. And in the meantime, the denture thief had stolen Ms. Fenton’s dentures, for about an hour."

"Long enough to eat an apple," Clarise said, smothering her laugh.

"Yep."

Granny Gert wasn’t as subtle with her laughter, and actually snorted. Thankfully, all of the wedding guests at the tables surrounding them seemed involved in their own conversations and didn’t notice. "Poor Ms. Mulhaney."

"Anyway, at Shady Pines, I started noticing that I’m pretty good at reading people, their body language, even interpreting what they’re really saying when they speak. Most of the time, I’m spot on. And lately, I’ve been reading up on body language and researching it on the Internet, and I’ve bought a few books on intimate behavior, that kind of thing." She shrugged. "You know me, always wanting to learn something new."

"And getting bored with the things you already know," Clarise said, grinning.

"Show Clarise how you do it," Granny urged. "Why don’t you read Clarise?"

Clarise sat back in her chair and raised her brows speculatively. "Okay, I’m game. Read me, sis."

"Read you?"

"Sure. What is my body language saying, right now?"

Babette realized that she had, in fact, surveyed Clarise’s actions throughout this conversation and had a good idea exactly what her sister was thinking. "It isn’t all that difficult, once you figure out the signs."

"Okay, so read me."

Babette narrowed her eyes a bit, focusing on her sister. "You’re trying to act interested in this conversation, but your hands are busy fiddling with your fork. However, your eyes are still paying attention to me." She paused, recalling something else noteworthy, then added, "But when Granny mentioned I was studying how to read people, you rubbed your eyes."

Clarise smirked. "And that tells you, what?"

"The fact that you’re fiddling with the fork but looking at me tells me that you understand what I’m saying is important, but you’ve got half a piece of chocolate cake left and you’re wanting to delve back in. But you don’t want to seem rude."

Granny Gert laughed, and Clarise joined in. "Okay, I do want more cake, and I’m assuming it’s okay with you for me to have it while you discuss your latest dilemma."

"Knock yourself out."

"Is that all you can tell about me now?" Clarise asked, then took a big bite of cake.

"You rubbed your eyes," Babette repeated. "That means you couldn’t believe what you were hearing. It’s a sign of disbelief, and in this case, I’d say you couldn’t believe that I was possibly going back to school again. Which I’m not, as I said."

"Not bad," Clarise said.

"It’s kind of fun, once you start learning how to do it. And I am still learning--certainly not an expert or anything."

"She got the idea from Dr. Phil," Granny said. "You know, he talks about body language and such a good bit, and Babette heard him mention it, decided that she might be able to use body language to help her figure out what the folks at the center were thinking, and then she started putting it in action." Granny sounded quite impressed.

Babette was too, right up until her new technique cost her another job.

"Okay, so what does your learning how to read body language have to do with you getting fired from Shady Pines?" Clarise asked.

"Something to do with Lambert Wiggins and the lady from the quilting class? And I know Lambert, of course, but you’d better fill Clarise in," Granny said.

"Okay. Lambert Wiggins, an eighty-two-year-old with a sweet smile, signed up for the quilting class. That was odd to begin with, because he was the only male in the class, but he said his mama used to quilt and he’d always had an interest in it. However, he wasn’t just interested in quilting. He was interested in Joslyn Peal, a sixty-nine-year-old lady in the same class. Reading the two of them wasn’t hard at all. They held eye contact a little longer than they needed to, gave those sideways glances, smiled, you know, the easy signs. So I asked Lambert if he’d like me to formally introduce them. Kind of funny that they’re the age they are and still shy, don’t you think?"

"It’s sweet," Clarise said, while Granny shook her head.

"Oh, child, you didn’t."

Apparently, Granny knew the story behind the story, but Babette had been clueless. "I did. I talked to both of them, found out they were interested in having a date, and then I brought in all of the necessities for a candlelight dinner, music, good soft food--he has dentures--and everything for a night of elderly romance."

Clarise grinned. "How sweet! So what went wrong?"

"Joslyn was married, and her husband happened to be Lambert’s canasta partner. The dinner never happened, because Roy Peal found out and took after Lambert in his wheelchair. He had one of those battery-operated state-of-the-art models and nearly put Lambert in the grave when he ran him down. Lambert’s in a wheelchair too, but he’s got the plain old-fashioned type. He didn’t stand a chance against Joslyn’s husband’s motorized chair."

"So that’s how you started a wheelchair fight." Clarise smothered her laughter, but it still caused a few glances from the surrounding tables, primarily due to the band’s break between songs.

"Oh, child, I could’ve told you Joslyn’s married. I swear, that woman needs to stop that flirting. Honestly, still trying to make Roy jealous, after all these years. She’s lucky he didn’t have a heart attack."

"I was lucky Lambert didn’t have one, the way Roy came after him. But he didn’t, just a few cuts and bruises. And I, naturally, got that pink slip with my paycheck. They said I should pay attention to details, particularly wedding rings, but I haven’t grown accustomed to checking left hands of the eighty-plus crowd."

"Well, sis, I’ve gotta hand it to you. No one loses a job the way you do." Clarise, still giggling, stood from the table. "I’m going to find my husband and sneak in a dance while the twins are occupied with Olivia." She started to walk away, then turned back toward the table. "Babette, don’t you think you should go spend a little time with your date?"

Babette and Granny Gert followed Clarise’s line of sight until they spotted Robbie and Jesilyn talking on the other side of the room.

"No, I’d rather him spend time with Jesilyn. Maybe they’ll even make it to a third date."

Clarise sat back down. "You know, I’m sure the twins are going to be looking at that tree for a while. Ethan and I will have that dance later."

"Tell you what, I’ll go out to the lobby and check out the big tree too. That way I can help Olivia entertain them a little longer." Granny stood hurriedly. "I’m sure we’ll keep them occupied long enough for you two to have a sisterly chat, and probably long enough for you to have a dance or two." She winked at Clarise, then turned and left.

"She thinks we’re going to talk about sex," Clarise said.

Babette nodded. "I figured that much, but she should’ve stuck around, since I haven’t got anything to talk about anyway." She reached for Granny’s mostly untouched piece of cake. "You think she’ll mind if I finish this?"

"You know Granny; she’ll go get herself another piece if she wants one." Clarise grinned. "And she was probably willing to let the cake go to let us talk about how long it’s been since you’ve had a third date."

Clarise--and evidently Granny Gert--knew Babette’s typical rules for dating. Regardless of the fact that she never denied her enjoyment of great sex, she also never had sex with a guy before the third date. Well, except for Jeff, and that baffled her. Lots of things about Jeff baffled her, if she wanted to get right down to it. Which she didn’t. Not now, anyway.

"Granny’s right, that hottie you brought is mighty pleasing on the eyes. You sure he isn’t third-date material?"

"Not for me, but I definitely see sparks between him and Jesilyn."

"I don’t know. They’re talking and all, but lots of people talk and dance at weddings. And I thought I heard you tell him earlier that you didn’t feel like dancing earlier, and that he should dance with Jesilyn, since she’s here solo. He could just be waiting for you to decide to dance."

Babette scooted her chair closer to her sister. "Come here. I’ll show you." She indicated Jesilyn and Robbie, now sitting at a table across the reception hall with their glasses of punch in hand. "Okay. See how they’re sitting?" Babette smiled, her point proven.

Or so she thought.

"They’re sitting by each other," Clarise said, unconvinced. "I’m not sure that qualifies as anything more than the fact that the reception hall is crowded, and they need a place to sit."

"You honestly don’t see it?"

"See what?"

Babette sighed. "Okay, for starters, in the past two minutes, they glanced at each other at least twice, with Jesilyn looking down and away afterward, because she’s wanting him to extend the gaze."

Clarise’s brows dipped down, and her mouth quirked to the side. "They glanced at each other because they’re being polite, and I don’t get how her looking down and away is telling him she’s interested in him. Seems like that’d mean she wasn’t."

"If she wasn’t, she’d just look away and keep her eyes level."

"You seriously believe that?" Clarise shook her head. "Sorry sis, but I can’t buy into this one."

"The eye glance isn’t all I’ve noticed," Babette said, surprised by how much fun she was having showing Clarise how telling body language could be.

"Okay, I’ll bite. What else do you see?"

"One, they’re both sitting open, relaxed in each other’s company and receptive to the other’s ideas."

"Open?"

Babette turned toward Clarise and draped one arm over the back of the chair, then she leaned slightly forward and raised her brows as though waiting to hear whatever Clarise said. "This is open posture." She then pushed her back against the chair, folded her arms against her chest and looked away. "This is closed."

Clarise looked at Robbie and Jesilyn. "Okay, I agree. They’re open. Anything else?"

"Look at the way they’re sitting, turned toward each other and almost mirroring their positions, one leg crossed over the other."

Clarise nodded.

"That says they’re in the same place emotionally. And now look; Jesilyn is touching her cheek while she talks. That means she’d like him to touch her there--not necessarily now, but sometime."

Clarise tilted her head as she studied the pair. "So now, she’s rubbing a finger over her lower lip_._._."

"Ooh, they’re definitely getting along. She’s thinking about being kissed."

Maybe, if Babette nudged things along, Robbie might even give Jesilyn a ride home from the reception. Then Babette wouldn’t have to worry about trying to explain why she didn’t want to go out with him again.

"He might not be the third-date guy for me, but their body language says maybe he is for Jesilyn."

"Not trying to be too nosey, but you haven’t gotten to the third date with anyone since Jeff, have you?" Clarise may not be able to read other people’s body language, but she had an uncanny knack for reading Babette; now, unfortunately, was no exception.

Babette stabbed her cake with her fork, then popped the big chunk of cake and icing in her mouth, chewed and swallowed. She really needed more sugar for this conversation. "You know, now that you mention it, I haven’t had a third date with anyone since Jeff." Might as well lay it all out there for her sister to dissect, since she was bound and determined to do it anyway.

"I’m surprised you ended things with him, if he still has this kind of effect on you. It’s been a year and a half." Clarise leaned forward, obviously studying Babette’s reaction to her words.

Babette focused on her cake, took another bite.

"I know you said you didn’t want to talk about what happened, but have you seen him at all since then? Or at least talked to him?"

"No, and just so you know, I’m not sure I was the one that ended it."

"I thought you told me that you were talking on the phone, the two of you were fighting, and you hung up on him. That’s all you said about it, and of course, he never said anything at all, so I have to wonder--what were you arguing over?"

"I’d tell you, if I could remember. I honestly thought we were having one of our typical fightfests, and that we’d have fun making up. I know that we were talking, then I told him I was going to hang up, and then he said if I did, he wouldn’t call me back."

"But you thought he would."

"Sure, eventually." Babette did remember a bit of the conversation, and oddly enough, she recalled that they were talking about Clarise and Ethan and the kids. That’s why Jeff’s weird attitude really threw her off. She didn’t think it was all that big of an argument, but apparently it had been, at least on his end, and by the time she realized that, he wasn’t calling.

And Babette--being Babette--didn’t call him either. Two stubborn souls does not a good relationship make. However, they did have good sex. Great sex. Superb sex. But besides missing their notable tangos beneath the sheets, she couldn’t deny that she also missed sparring with him, chatting with him, and laughing with him, for that matter.

"Neither of you were seeing anyone else, right?"

"Well, we never said we were only dating each other. It wasn’t that kind of relationship."

Clarise cocked a brow.

"Okay, I wasn’t seeing anyone else, but I sure wasn’t going to tell him that."

Babette’s tiny beaded purse started quivering on the table, and she fished out her vibrating phone, then eyed the caller ID. "It’s Mom," she said, smiling, and a bit thankful that her mother had literally saved her by the bell. Or rather, the vibration.

Her mother, father, and his sister Madge all lived in a retirement community in Fort Lauderdale. They’d sent Babette a birthday card with a check inside. No matter how much she needed the money, she wouldn’t cash the check, but it was the thought that counted.

"Happy birthday, dear," her mother said as soon as Babette answered. "How’s your day?"

"Everything’s great." It wasn’t completely a lie. The cake was good, and her mother had just saved her from having to delve into her feelings for Jeff with Clarise. Not bad. "Daddy and Aunt Madge there?" Babette asked, assuming that they were probably, as usual, calling her via the speakerphone.

"Yes, we’re here. Happy birthday, honey," her father said, and Babette grinned.

"Happy Birthday," Madge echoed. "So, you found a guy yet? Or maybe a job?"

Babette rolled her eyes, and Clarise, leaning close enough to the phone to hear Madge’s yell, stifled a giggle. Babette was used to her aunt’s teasing, and typically added fuel to the flame by announcing whatever her latest job venture, date, or degree choice happened to be, but she wasn’t in the mood to mess with Aunt Madge today. So she simply said, "Thanks."

"Are you having a good birthday?" Babette mentally translated her mother’s question--have you met a guy yet, and is he there with you? Janie Robinson was many things, but subtle wasn’t one.

"I’m having a terrific birthday. Matter of fact, I’m eating cake, right now." No, it wasn’t birthday cake, and it wasn’t even a cake made for her, but it was cake. And good cake too. She fingered another dab of icing.

"How old are you, Babette?" This came from Aunt Madge.

"Thirty-four." No use lying.

"Wow, next year, you’re officially midlife, right?"

"I don’t believe midlife is thirty-five now, Madge," Babette’s mother corrected.

"Well, if it isn’t, it’s mighty darn close," Madge snapped.

Clarise’s hand moved to her mouth while she only marginally controlled her laughter.

Babette glared at her, and Clarise merely shrugged.

"Anyway, how’s the job situation going? You still at the retirement center?" her father asked.

Babette shook her head at Clarise. No way did she want to divulge that she’d lost job number twenty-three. She’d tell her parents later, when it wasn’t her birthday and when Aunt Madge wasn’t listening.

"I just finished my third week," she said, holding back that she’d also just finished her last day.

"That’s some kind of record, isn’t it?" her aunt asked, then she grunted, and Babette had a sneaky suspicion that she’d been elbowed.

"Not yet. My current record is eight weeks." Babette silently dared Aunt Madge to respond. Smartly, and probably with the threat of another elbow to the belly, she remained silent.

"Well, have you met anybody interesting?" her mother asked, as Babette had expected that she would.

"No, Mom, I haven’t."

"Well, that’s okay, dear," her mother said consolingly. "You still have plenty of time."

Plenty of time. She could almost hear her biological clock ticking. Tick, tick, clunk. That clock was breaking, and she wasn’t all that certain how much she cared.

"Mom, Dad, Aunt Madge, I’ve got to let you go. I’m actually at a wedding reception, and the groom is getting ready to make a toast." Richard was, in fact, moving to the stage with a flute of champagne in hand. "Love you." She waited for them to say bye, then gladly disconnected from the uncomfortable conversation.

"Oh, good, we made it back just in time for the toast," Granny Gert said, as she and the twins shuffled toward the table. "Olivia went to find Preston."

Ethan also made his way over, brushing a kiss across Clarise’s cheek before scooping up Lindy in his arms.

"Let’s see what Mr. Richard has to say," he said to Lindy, while Little Ethan squirmed his way into Clarise’s lap to get closer to the last bit of cake on her plate.

Richard cleared his throat into the microphone, then eloquently thanked everyone for attending the most important event of his life. He smiled at Genie, toasted her, and then proclaimed his endless love for his new bride. It was a beautiful speech, and the entire crowd cheered and applauded when it ended. But then, Richard cleared his throat again, raised his voice a bit more than before, and turned his attention toward another woman in the room.

Babette.

"And I need to add a special thank you to one guest in particular, because without her help, Genie and I would still be denying our love. Please join me in toasting Babette Robinson, my personal love doctor." The crowd turned toward Babette. Every glass lifted and then toasted her accomplishment.

Granny Gert sipped her champagne and then poked Babette’s arm. "He’s right, you know."

"Right?" Babette questioned.

"He called you a love doctor, said that he wouldn’t have worked things out with Genie without you. A love doctor. Don’t know why no one has thought of that before. I mean, it isn’t something you’d traditionally think of, when you’re thinking about employment, but given your gift for reading people, I think you could do it. And you are between jobs now," she added with a wink.

Truth was, Babette had spent most of her adult life between jobs. But she was still itching to know what Granny was talking about. A love doctor?

"Oh, I see what you’re saying, Granny," Clarise said. "People pay for matchmaking services, don’t they? Just look at eHarmony and Match.com." Then her mouth quirked to the side. "But Babette didn’t actually match-make Richard and Genie."

"She wouldn’t be matchmaking, she’d be match- mending. She’d mend relationships that have gone off to the wayside. Heaven knows everyone has someone hiding in their past that they’d like to know_._._._what if things would’ve happened differently? Or something like that. Babette could help them find out. Sure, there’s lots of people out there matching people, but there isn’t anyone mending old fences."

"You think I could actually be a love doctor?"

"People pay real doctors big bucks to fix them when they’re sick," Granny said. "Why wouldn’t they pay a love doctor big bucks to fix a love gone bad?"

"Clarise," Ethan said, and Babette sensed the voice of reason about to make an appearance in this bizarre conversation.

But Clarise had other plans. She looked pointedly at her husband. "Yes, Ethan." Her look said plenty, but mostly, don’t mess with my sister, or you won’t be messing with me tonight.

Evidently he got it, and he grinned. "I think I’ll take the kids over to get some rose petals. Richard and Genie should be leaving soon, and I don’t want them to miss out on tossing them at the bride and groom."

Clarise returned his grin. "Great idea."

"A love doctor, huh?" Babette said, after Ethan left.

"I can totally see you doing it," Clarise said. "You’d be terrific. And you could use your new body language skills."

Babette thought about it. She’d been through twenty-three jobs with no success, but never had she created her own position. And they were right; she did like helping people get together. Just look at Richard and Genie. She glanced across the room where Jesilyn was standing near Robbie but looking at Babette. Jesilyn waited for Robbie to look in the other direction, then held up the okay sign, obviously questioning Babette on whether she had a problem with the two of them together.

Babette smiled, reciprocated the gesture, then looked back to her sister and grandmother. "Babette Robinson, the love doctor," she whispered softly, but inside she was cheering. She likened the idea to Will Smith’s character in the movie Hitch, except where he used technique (and a bit of deception) to get people together, Babette would simply use the feelings and emotions that already existed, but were hiding beneath the surface. She’d need to get as many books as she could find on body language and intimate behavior. If she was going to do this right, she’d need to hone her skills.

How about that, four degrees and she was trying out a career where she was basically her own instructor. Excitement bubbled through her.

"What do you think?" Granny Gert asked.

"I think," she said, "that it just might work."

Copyright © 2009 by Kelley St. John