Free Harvest Moon by Sharon Struth Page B

did.”
    Trent liked this guy’s easy and relaxed attitude. “How about I call next week? I’d like to run some newspaper ads for the tasting room opening, too.”
    “Sounds good.” Cliff leaned back in the chair. “We’ll talk.”
    Trent’s mood improved, and he returned to his purview of Veronica. The day she’d stepped onto the elevator at RGI, she’d snagged his attention; he never turned down a chance to admire a beautiful woman. The second she’d opened her mouth, however, citing proper broken elevator behavior, she’d left him…not attracted to…but what? Curious? Yes, wanting to know more.
    He scrutinized her date. Trent had caught the perfunctory peck on the cheek he’d given Veronica at his arrival and how in their time together, they rarely touched. Did she respond to his kiss with the same hunger Trent had sampled at the bar? For some reason, he didn’t think so.
    According to Sophie, they’d been dating around six months, but they moved on the dance floor like an example from the Arthur Murray guidelines for proper dancing. A stance befitting two strangers, not lovers.
    Interesting to learn she worked as the local library director. Did she run her life with card catalog organization and spend her nights at home reading? Even if she did, he couldn’t stop the wheels in his head from spinning, trying to figure out what made her tick. His gaze shifted to Duncan and Sophie, staring in each other’s eyes while they danced, so in love it made Trent’s chest ache.
    He looked down to the table, tracing a circle in the linen cloth with his finger while the pain of the divorce rolled across his chest, then vanished. Relief settled over him when the waiter poured his coffee, a reason to think about something else besides the one woman who’d claimed his heart. He slowly stirred the cream in his cup and concentrated on the piano music. His fingers itched to get on the keyboard.
    The music stopped, and the older man playing the piano stood. “Tonight I have a special treat. Veronica Sussingham has offered to sing for us.”
    Everyone clapped. Veronica left the dance floor and went over to the piano player, giving him a hug.
    They spoke quietly for a half a minute, and then she stood in front of the piano. A few seconds later, music flowed from the piano. Veronica closed her eyes, swayed her head to the beat. Trent recognized the song as “Walkin’ After Midnight.” Not quite the country pace made famous by Patsy Cline, but a slowed down, jazzier version he’d once heard by Madeleine Peyroux. As Veronica’s shimmering lips parted, she sang the first line.
    Her voice flowed like soft velvet, her tone rich and sexy. She lifted her chin and opened her eyes, now sparkling with a playful glow, and launched the next line about an after midnight search for love. He breathed in her beautiful sound, hypnotized by the subtle sway of her body, as spellbinding as the beat.
    At a line from the chorus, one filled with hope that the search for love wasn’t one sided, her gaze landed on him, exposing a vulnerability he hadn’t been aware of. His breath stalled but didn’t recover even when she averted her gaze across the room and picked up the next verse.
    Who was this woman? This relaxed persona and sultry songstress offered a stark contrast to the woman he’d met on the elevator. Mesmerized by both the sight and sound, he sat enchanted by her act. She was—a word rested on the tip of his tongue…classy. Classier than he might expect from someone in this small town, as though she really belonged someplace else and had landed here by mistake.
    She finished the song to wild applause and returned to her table where her boyfriend gave her a peck on the cheek. Lifting her purse, she quickly left the room.
    Trent got up and walked to the table, unsure what he was even doing.
    “Your girlfriend has quite a voice. I’m Trent Jamieson, Duncan’s brother.” Trent offered his hand to her date and they shook.
    “Nice