As they were leaving the restaurant, Pete laughed and said, “I should’ve known.”
Tommie looked at him in confusion. “I beg your pardon?”
She followed his gaze to a handsome man approaching them. Pete stepped forward and gave him a hug and then said, “Tommie, I’d like you to meet my twin, Jim.”
His twin? Now Tommie knew Pete Schofield was definitely not The One.
Chapter Two
Pete really knew something was wrong with Tommie. She was quiet during the remainder of lunch, but he’d chalked that up to preoccupation. After all, he knew she was determined to find him the perfect place to live. But when they got to the first house, she seemed less enthusiastic. She ushered him in and let him look around on his own while she made a few phone calls. She made sure she was never in the same room as he.
The house was too cramped and older than he wanted, but Tommie didn’t ask what he thought. She simply took him to the next house, where they followed the same routine. When they left, he suggested they have coffee somewhere and discuss what he’d liked and disliked about the homes. More importantly, he wanted to discuss what was suddenly wrong with her.
“Certainly, if you think that would help,” she responded.
No encouragement there.
“Here’s a Starbucks. Is that okay?”
She nodded and pulled her car into a parking place. When they were settled at a table with cups of specialized coffee in front of them, Pete got right down to business.
“What’s wrong? Have you decided to not sell me a house?”
“No, of course not. I’m sorry if I seemed a little preoccupied today. I didn’t—I have something on my mind.” She pulled a tablet out of her purse. “Now, what did you not like about those two homes?”
He mentioned several things, but his mind was still stuck on her change of behavior. The more he thought about it, she seemed to have become withdrawn right after he’d introduced her to Jim at the restaurant. “What did you think of my brother?”
“He seemed nice.”
“He’s great. I’ve missed him a lot.”
“So why aren’t you moving in with him?”
He frowned. “We’re both grown men. I hope to start a family. Why wouldn’t I buy my own house?”
“Does he have his own house?”
“No. He’s in a condo. I’m not sure what he’s planning for the future.” Pete took a sip of coffee, watching Tommie out of the corner of his eye. She gave no discernible sign that she disliked or disapproved of Jim.
He put down the cup and decided to be blunt. “It seemed to me that you were upset about meeting my brother. I just wondered why.”
“No, not at all. In fact, I could introduce one of my sisters to him, if you want.”
“You have sisters?”
“Yes, two.”
“I didn’t know. Do they resemble you?” he asked, unable to think about three Tommies. One was doing strange things to him. “What are their names?”
“Tabitha and Teresa.”
“Tommie, Tabitha and Teresa? Three T’s?” Pete asked.
His question didn’t win a happy response.
“We’re a little tired of that.”
“Sorry, I just thought—Well, sometimes parents don’t use the best judgment in naming their children. I was really grateful that my mother didn’t—Well, you know how twins get named sometimes. Jim and I were treated as individuals.”
Tommie made no response.
“How old are your sisters?”
Ignoring his question, she said, “Shall I tell you about the houses you’ll see tomorrow?”
Pete frowned. “You don’t want to talk about your sisters?”
She shook her head. “We have a lot of work to do. Now, will you have the entire day free tomorrow to see more houses?”
“Yeah. I’d really hoped I would find a place right away. After all, you’ll be working for my staff next week. I’m flying in the wives, too.”
“I know. I’ve actually talked to a couple of them. I have everything planned out.”
“I’m sure you do. So what do you have set up tomorrow for me?”
She pulled some pages out of her bag. “Here are five houses I think you’ll like.”
He looked at the pictures and read the information. “Do you like any of these?”
“Well, they all have things I like. They’re not perfect, but then no house—or person—is.”
“Okay, we’ll look at them.” He gave her back the papers. “What are you doing tonight?”
“Tonight?” She stared at him, surprised. “I—I need to look for more houses.”
“All work and no play is bad for anyone, Tommie. Why don’t you let me take you to dinner.” Before she could answer, he snapped his fingers. “I just got a great idea. You can ask your sisters and I’ll bring Jim and—and someone else. All six of us will go out to dinner. It’ll be great.”
“I don’t know if my sisters are free. And I don’t think we should mix business and pleasure.”
“Nonsense! Call your sisters now. Are they at work?”
“No. They’re both teachers.”
He could tell she was still resistant. He wasn’t an egotist, but he knew he was fairly good-looking. He’d never had any difficulty getting dates. Not that he’d done much dating in Boston. Starting your own business didn’t leave much time. And after his company was established, it took all his concentration to run. About the only times he’d asked a woman out were to the business and charitable functions he was required to attend. Then the women seemed more than happy to be his date; many hinted they wanted more than one night. So why, then, was Tommie reluctant?
He pressed her. “Call them, Tommie…please?”
After studying him for a minute, she took out her cell phone and dialed a number. “Teresa? It’s Tommie. Mr. Schofield, my client, has offered dinner for the three of us with him, his brother and a friend tonight. Can you make it?”
After she paused for her sister’s answer, she added, “And Tab?”
Another pause. Then, “Okay, I’ll let you know time and place later.”
“They agreed?” Pete asked when she flipped her phone shut.
“Teresa agreed, and she said Tabitha would, too, but she’s making an exercise video for teenagers, so I couldn’t talk to her.”
“Making a video? Is she going to market it?”
“Yes, she hopes to. And she’ll use it in her own classes.”
“I gather she’s a P.E. teacher.”
Tommie nodded.
“And Teresa? What does she teach?”
“Kindergarten. She loves it.”
“That’s terrific. They both sound like they’re doing what makes them happy.” And so was he—going out on a date with Tommie Tyler.
Pete