“Not every single one,” he corrected.

“Just most. And I can see why. You’re adorable and all.”

“Thanks.”

“You started out in Savannah. Hard to imagine why you’d settle in this itsy-bitsy town. But lots of people have been happy to fill me in on why they think you came here-even if I never asked. And I really don’t need to pry into your life or anyone else’s.”

“I understand. Once you’re inside the town limits, it hits like a wave. The hot air from people talking about each other. There’s no escaping it.”

“Who knew? Anyway…let’s see what else I was told. You can, of course, correct or deny any of this. You come from a good family-that means, a Southern family, a family that was established here long enough to fight in the War of Northern Aggression. You went to a good school, North Carolina, I think I was told. Played B-ball. Everybody remembers that you graduated, but not what field you graduated in. No one’s sure if you ever had a real job. Somehow, you didn’t feel like making anything special of yourself.”

“That’s me. Just lazy as can be.”

“Yup. That’s how I heard it. Thankfully, you invented and patented your own ice cream. Maybe moved here because the cost of living was extra-reasonable. You can sit around all day and just make a little ice cream, hire kids to help you, and spend the rest of your time romancing all the pretty Southern Belles. Why should everyone need to be ambitious? Why should you do hard work if you don’t have to? Only…none of the girls have caught you. In bed, maybe. In affairs, maybe. But nobody’s caught you anywhere near the altar, or that’s the story I heard.”