And as we head back to St. Louis, you reach across the console and take my hand. You tell me that it’s been an amazing day, and you don’t want it to end. I agree; the day has been perfect. The only way to end such an amazing day? Barbecue. You’ll tell me that you know the perfect place, and I trust you.
This is the point in my fantasy when I’ll let you take over. Can’t wait to see what you come up with.
Patiently Waiting,
Ms. Black Sheep
I tucked the pages neatly inside the envelope before addressing it and dropping it in the mail on my way out. The hardest part was waiting for Mr. Temporary to respond.
A few days later, my response finally came accompanied by a dazzling pink bouquet. How did he know the address of my firm? Did he ask Grace? The answers to my questions ultimately didn’t matter because no man had ever sent me flowers. I was giddy as I placed the flowers on my desk and then opened the attached envelope.
My dearest Black Sheep –
I pity the fools who haven’t dated you, and now I’m the lucky SOB who gets a shot.
Thank you for that wonderful imaginary date. Hopefully, I can live up to the standard you’ve set. To finish your fantasy, I’d take you to Pappy’s Smokehouse. They serve Memphis-style barbecue, which is my favorite. Undoubtedly, you’d get messy because it’s barbecue and we all know sauce gets everywhere. I’d be more than happy to help you clean up however you see fit. We’d make plans for our second date, a Cardinals game, over dessert. I check the calendar to see when the next game is, and we’re in luck because it’s the next night. We make plans to meet at Busch Stadium the following day.
At the end of our date, I’d take you back home and walk you to your door, and then I’d kiss you good night because after stealing a few kisses earlier, how could I not kiss you again? I know that I could spend hours kissing you.
Only one more letter to go! I’m forming a plan right now…
Yours,
Mr. Not-So-Temporary
I leaned back against my leather desk chair and fanned myself with his letter. Dear god, we hardly knew each other, yet I never craved a kiss so badly before.
“Layne.” Kate’s voice jolted me out of fantasy and back to reality. “Your mother is on line one.”
Reluctantly, I picked up the phone because I knew that if I didn’t, my mother would keep calling. “Hello, Mother,” I greeted her.
“Are you bringing a date to Sadie’s wedding or not?” she demanded.
“I’m doing well, Mother, how are you? How’s Daddy?”
“Don’t get smart with me, Layne Marie. The calligrapher needs to start working on the place cards now.”
“I have almost five months to find a date. Are you telling me it’s going to take someone five months to write names on a place card?”
“We invited over five hundred people, Layne.”
I almost choked. Five hundred people? Who in the hell did my parents invite? And were they all going to fit on the rooftop terrace? “That’s a lot of people,” I managed to say.
“Are you coming to Sadie and Jake’s engagement party next month?”
“They already had one,” I reminded her. It wasn’t hard to forget because I bought the happy couple the sterling silver double heart frame Sadie told me to buy.
“That was just for family,” my mother insisted. “This is the public event.”
“Oh. Well, I guess. Sadie is my only sister, so it would be odd if I didn’t.”
“We didn’t know if you would be busy with trial or depositions or something. The invitations went out three months ago.”
“Are you kidding me? You didn’t invite me to my own sister’s engagement party because you thought I would be working?”
On the other end, my mother huffed, and I could hear her eyes rolling in her head. “Don’t be so dramatic, Layne.”
“Well, send me the details, and I’ll be there.” It didn’t matter if it was game seven of the World Series, I was going to be at that party. “And I’m bringing a date,” I added with finality before hanging up.
I yanked open my desk drawer and pulled out the stationery that I was using to correspond with Mr. Temporary and started writing that final letter.
Dear Mr. Still-Just-Temporary,
Do you know what it feels like to be invisible? I feel that way almost all of the time with my family. I just had the most disturbing conversation with my mother. She demanded to know if I was bringing a date to my sister’s wedding because the calligrapher needs to get started on the place cards. They hired a fucking calligrapher! Who does that? My mother and sister, apparently. The wedding is still five months away, by the way, but over 500 people have been invited! Can you believe that?
And then I find out that next month, my sister and her fiancé are having an engagement party. They already had one, but according to my mother, this is the public event. They weren’t going to invite me because they assumed I was working. How did I end up in a family with people so selfish? I mean, it’s bad enough that I’m not even a part of the bridal party…
So do you want to be my date next month to my sister’s engagement party?
Black Sheep
P.S. I’m sorry for just unloading all of this on you
Before I could change my mind, I placed the letter in an envelope and sealed it. I stood and walked over to the outgoing mail tray on Kate’s desk and dropped it on a stack of other items waiting to be mailed. I wished more than ever that Mr. Temporary wasn’t a nameless and faceless person. I wanted him to finally be real.
A day later, my wish was granted when a messenger delivered my next letter from Mr. Temporary.
My darling Black Sheep –
Meet me at Dressel’s Public House tonight. 7pm.
Yours,
Mr. I-Don’t-Think-I-Want-to-Be-Temporary
I squealed with delight. And then immediately panicked. Were we somehow breaking Grace Graham’s rules? At this point, I don’t think I cared because I wanted that comforting feeling Mr. Temporary put deep in my belly to be permanent. I also realized I had no idea what Mr. Temporary looked like. How would we recognize each other? Grace didn’t provide physical descriptions or photographs. I only knew that he was in his mid-30s. I didn’t even know his real name! This was a disaster waiting to happen.
All day, I was distracted. Kate knew it, and all the other partners knew it, which meant I was doing a terrible job of hiding my emotions. Normally, I was cool and reserved, but today, just hours away from my date with Mr. Temporary, I was a nervous wreck.
“Did you drink too much coffee today?” Kate asked.
“Yes,” I told her. In fact, I had already consumed three cups.
This day could not get any worse.
Except it did.
I arrived early to Dressel’s Public House, hopeful this would give me the advantage in spotting Mr. Temporary. All it did was allow me the opportunity to watch my worst nightmare, Archie Reed, walk through the door.
Archie was like Sebastian Stan’s doppelgänger. He was also a complete asshole.
I turned in my seat, hoping to avoid making any contact with him but luck was not on my side.
“Layne Hall!” Archie practically shouted. “What are you doing here?”
I looked up at him and grimaced. “The same as anyone else, Archie.”
“I didn’t think they let you out of your gilded cage over at McClatchy, Sheehan, and Callahan.”
Archie Reed was older than me by a few years; he was a more seasoned lawyer and was a senior partner at his firm Donnelly, Black, and Balt. He was also the first lawyer I went up against when I tried my first case. I lost miserably. Honestly, I didn’t have a real shot at winning, but Archie Reed handed me my ass and then gloated about it. The second time we sparred in the courtroom, I was prepared, hit a home run, and left him speechless. Our only interactions since have been in depositions, but each one was toxic.
Archie pulled out the chair across from me and sat down, le
aning against the back and crossing one long leg over the other. Such a smug asshole. It was a shame that he was also impossibly handsome. His dark chestnut brown hair contrasted with his light blue eyes, and a five o’clock shadow always seemed to cover his strong, angular jaw. He placed a large hand on the table and drummed his fingers casually on the top.
“Are you waiting for someone?” he asked me.
“That’s none of your business.”
His eyes lit up, and a Cheshire cat smile spread across his face. “You are! Do I know him? It’s not Joel from Baker, Baker, and Howell is it? I heard he has a thing for you.”
I rolled my eyes and sat back in my chair, crossing my arms tightly across my chest. “Could you please leave?”
“Is McClatchy trying to set you up again?”
I groaned and cradled my head in my hands. “Please, leave!” God, just how small was the legal community in St. Louis?
“Fine but only because I have my own plans. See ya around, kiddo.” He reached across and ruffled my hair. I hated that he called me “kiddo” and treated me like a child. It bothered me that my age often prevented me from getting the respect I deserved amongst my peers. It was hard to feel like an equal when you were so much younger than everyone else, and Archie took advantage of that whenever he had the chance.
When he left, I glanced at the time on my phone. 7:10. Mr. Temporary must be here by now. I scanned the restaurant, hoping to use my nonexistent sixth sense to pick him out. But no one seemed to stand out.
To make matters worse, Sadie called.
“Mom said you’re bringing a date to my engagement party,” she said coldly. “I don’t have time for your games, Layne. So tell me who it is so I can make sure we can accommodate him.”
My stomach clenched. “I’m still working on that, Sadie.”
“Oh my god, Layne. Do you even have a date? This is just like you.”
I could barely hear her over the noise of the crowded restaurant, so I gathered up my bag and headed outside. Mr. Temporary could wait until my sister was finished berating me.
“What the hell does that mean, Sadie? You didn’t even invite me to this engagement party!”
“Because you’re always working, Layne!”
“It doesn’t matter! I’m your sister! It’s common courtesy.”
The door to Dressel’s opened up, and Archie stepped outside. Fuck. What was up with him tonight? I stepped farther away from him and leaned against the building.
“That’s rich, Layne. You just invited some nonexistent date to my party! Why does everything always have to be about you? The moment I got engaged, you made junior partner and stole my thunder!”
“Sadie, I did not intentionally make junior partner just to ‘steal your thunder.’ I worked my ass off for that promotion!”
“You know what, Layne? You don’t even need to come to my party. Have a good night.” The line went dead. I let out a frustrated screech and kicked the building.
“Son of a bitch,” I yelped because I forgot that I was wearing heels and not steel-toed boots.
“Something wrong, kiddo?” Archie asked. Shit! I forgot he had been standing there. This was turning into the worst night possible.
“My sister is getting married and is turning into the biggest selfish bitch in the history of bitches. I mean, seriously! I wasn’t even invited to their stupid engagement party. Can you believe that? Who does that?” I was rambling, talking more to myself than to Archie. He was just there. “And now she’s all pissy because I told my mother that I was bringing a date, except I don’t actually have a date. What the hell was I thinking? And do you know what the worst thing is, Archie?”
I finally managed to stop and look at him. He was standing there with wide eyes and a slightly opened mouth. When he realized that I addressed him, he shook his head slightly. “That you feel like the black sheep of the family?”
“The worst thing is that Sadie accused me of purposely making junior partner right after she got engaged. No matter what I do, it’s not good enough.” I kept right on talking, and the fact that Archie answered my question didn’t register until I stopped to take a breath. “What did you say?”
Please don’t let him repeat what I think he said because that would mean…
“Hey there, Black Sheep, I’m Mr. Temporary,” Archie answered with a smirk.
I left Dressel’s immediately. I did not pass go or collect my $200 or stop when Archie called after me. This was not happening. Archie Reed was not Mr. Temporary because Mr. Temporary made my toes curl with delight. He made my lips tingle at the thought of a kiss. And all Archie Reed made me want to do was hit something.
I cursed his stupid, handsome, arrogant face as I drove home. I was going to write Grace Graham a letter and demand a new match. There was no way in hell that Archie Reed was the perfect man for me. How could she even think that? I knew the answer; because I didn’t bother to tell her what I was looking for. I didn’t bother to tell her anything about myself other than the fact that I came from a family full of selfish assholes who made me feel like an outcast even though I was very successful for someone my age.
I owned an amazing condo on the fourteenth floor of a building in the Central West End.
I was a junior partner at McClatchy, Sheehan, and Callahan, one of the top law firms in St. Louis.
I didn’t have student loans! I brushed my teeth and flossed twice a day!
What family wouldn’t be proud of someone like me? Mine, apparently.
And now the man of my current dreams was someone who I despised. Like Cubs-level hate.
What the fuck had I done to the universe to deserve this?
I hoped to find the answer at the bottom of a wine bottle.
News flash: it wasn’t there. All I found was a massive hangover the next day. My head was throbbing with a pounding headache, and the sun was too bright when I woke up in my living room still wearing my work clothes from yesterday. Silk charmeuse blouses were not meant to be pajamas.
It took me a moment to realize that the pounding was not in my head but from someone at my door. I groaned as I stood, my legs wobbly. I shuffled to the door and opened it, only to be faced with a nightmare.
Archie Reed stood in front of me, looking rakish and gorgeous while I looked like shit.
“What are you doing here?” I mumbled. “And how did you know where I lived?”
Archie pushed passed me, inviting himself into my home. “Kate, your secretary, told me. I gave her the flowers that I bought for you.”
“You bribed my secretary?” My head was so fuzzy, and the pounding hadn’t stopped once I opened the door.
Archie spun and leveled me with a searing gaze. Suddenly, I didn’t feel hungover anymore. I felt…tingly. “You left me with no choice, Layne. You refused to talk to me last night.”
“Because Grace Graham has to be wrong!”
“Why?”
“Because I hate you.”
Archie stumbled back as if he had just been punched. “Hate is a pretty strong word, counselor.”
I narrowed my eyes. “Not where you’re concerned. There are only two things that I hate in this world – you and the Cubs.”
He placed his hand over his chest and winced. “Ouch! I’m just going to have to change your mind.”
“No,” I stated firmly. “There will be no changing my mind.”
But Archie wasn’t listening. Instead, he found his way to my kitchen and started opening up cupboards.
“What are you doing,” I asked.
“Making you breakfast. Clearly, you’re hungover and in need of something greasy to soak up all the alcohol.”
“I don’t need you to make me breakfast. Besides, there isn’t any food in my refrigerator.” Grocery shopping hadn’t been high on my list of priorities lately, not since the last time I had friends over and that was a while ago.
Archie opened the stainless-steel door to the fridge to confirm. “You’re right. Well, I saw a bagel pl
ace across the street, so why don’t you get changed. I’m starving.”
“Then you can go and leave me be.” I walked back to the living room, flopped dramatically onto the couch, and tossed an arm over my eyes to shield them from the sun and Archie’s blue eyes.
“Come on, counselor, time to stop feeling sorry for yourself.” I heard the sound of Archie’s shoes slapping against the hardwood floors of my condo and then felt his hands tugging at my arms, pulling me up.
“Go away, Archie,” I moaned.
“Not on your life, Layne.”
I opened my eyes and pouted. “Why are you here? You don’t like me very much either.”
“That’s not true.”
I nodded. “You always treat me like a child, and you call me ‘kiddo.’ I hate that.”
One corner of Archie’s mouth lifted into a slight smile. “It’s because I’m jealous.”
My mouth went slack. “What?”
Archie pushed me to the side of the couch and sat down beside me, draping an arm across the back. His hand rested comfortably on my shoulder. “I wasn’t nearly as successful as you are when I was your age. You’re an amazing lawyer.”
My chest tightened with pride, and a warmth spread in my belly. No one had ever told me that before. Not even the managing partners at my firm.
“You’re not that much older than I am,” I replied.
Archie tilted his head and raised his brows. “I’m closer to forty than I am to mid-30s.” Archie pulled me in closer, letting his arm fully envelop me. “Come on, sport. Let’s go get something to eat.”
I shoved his chest, but one look at the grin on his face, and I knew he was teasing. I stood and walked into my bedroom, leaving him alone in the living room.
The reflection in the mirror was horrific. My platinum blond bob was a mess, and my makeup was smeared across my face, but somehow, Archie Reed made me feel special. He made me feel wanted. Could Archie Reed really be the one for me? I shook my head. Impossible.
Dear Mr. Temporary (The Matchmaker Series ) Page 2