Mayor of Macon's Point - By Inglath Cooper Page 0,6
to at least consider not selling Corbin Manufacturing, and how on earth was she going to do that with Tommy throwing a fit beside her?
“You know what my favorite thing here was when I was your age, Tommy?” Corbin’s question was casual.
Tommy looked up, no doubt intrigued that a man as big as the one sitting in front of them could ever have been his age. “What?”
“Pancakes.”
“For supper?”
“For any time. In fact, I think that’s what I’ll have tonight.”
Tommy pondered that for a moment, then looked at Annie and said, “Can I get pancakes, Mama?”
“May you have them. And yes, you may,” Annie said. In another less-than-admirable motherhood moment, she would have let him order jelly beans if that was what it took to head off the storm about to erupt.
Tommy went back to his game, his discontent dissipating as quickly as it had started.
Annie breathed a silent sigh of relief. “Thank you for your patience, Mr. Corbin. I realize this isn’t what—”
“It’s Jack. And this is fine.”
Jack, then. His response wasn’t the one she would have expected. Her own self-painted portrait of Jack Corbin, playboy extraordinaire, did not include the ability to deter little boys from temper tantrums with the finesse of a conductor leading an orchestra through Beethoven’s Fifth. Guys who drove Porsches didn’t do that, did they?
Charlotte appeared then with their drinks, an iced tea for Annie and a hot chocolate with an extra bowl of marshmallows on the side for Tommy.
“Another of your favorites?” Annie asked, surprised and more than a little appreciative.
“Hot chocolate’s nothing without the marshmallows.”
Annie had no doubt that Jack Corbin had just moved up another level in Tommy’s estimation. Next to chocolate cake, marshmallows ruled.
“Careful, now. It’s hot,” Annie warned while Tommy filled the cup with as many of the gooey treats as it would hold.
“What can I get for you?” Charlotte asked. “I’ll take you first, Mayor.”
Food was the last thing Annie wanted, so she said the first thing that came to mind. “A tossed salad, please. Thousand-island on the side.”
“All right.” Charlotte scribbled on her pad. “And the gentlemen?”
“We’re having pancakes,” Jack Corbin said as seriously as if he’d just ordered the two of them the best steaks on the menu.
Tommy beamed.
Charlotte looked at Annie and said, “Unpredictable, too? Two stacks of pancakes coming right up.”
As soon as she’d headed off toward the kitchen with their order, Tommy said, “Do people always get to order pancakes when they talk about bizness?”
“Not always,” Jack said. “But I’d have to say it’s a pretty good idea.”
Annie smiled and smoothed down a wayward strand of Tommy’s hair. Her son had managed to defuse some of the nervousness she would have no doubt been feeling had she been here alone with Jack Corbin. She’d been lucky to get the man to meet her at all, and she couldn’t afford to waste any more of the limited time she had to make her case.
“Jack.” She cleared her throat and willed her nerves to settle. “I know I mentioned this in my letters and calls to your attorney—”
“All of them?” he interrupted.
Was he teasing her? The thought tripped her up a bit. “Ah, yes, I’m sure. I would like to reiterate again just how much Macon’s Point would like to see Corbin Manufacturing remain in business. A great many of the people who live here rely on your factory for their—”
“My daddy’s famous.”
The announcement came from Tommy, who had looked up from his game and was waiting for a reaction.
“He is?” Jack asked with a raised eyebrow. “What’s he do?”
“He plays baseball.”
“Tommy, honey, Mr. Corbin and I are discussing—”
“For what team?”
“He used to be with the Braves, but he got hurt.”
“Is your daddy J. D. McCabe?”
Tommy nodded, so proud that Annie’s heart hurt.
“He is famous,” Jack said, looking impressed enough to make Tommy light up again. “He’s quite a player.”
“I want to be just like him when I get big. He lives in Los—” Tommy hesitated and then looked up at Annie. “Where is it, Mama?”
“Los Angeles, honey.”
“Mama and Daddy are divorced, so he has to live out there.”
“Oh,” Jack said, the response admirably neutral.
Annie drew in a quick breath, put a hand on her son’s hair and said, “Tommy, we’ll have to tell Mr. Corbin about Daddy’s baseball career another time. We can’t keep him here all night, and he and I have some very important things to discuss.”
“Do you like baseball, Mr. Corbin?” Tommy asked, completely ignoring Annie’s attempt at reason.
“I like to watch