Fortune's Perfect Valentine

by Stella Bagwell

  A wan smile touched her lips. “There’s no need for you to apologize, Wes. That’s your private family business. It has nothing to do with me.”

  But it did, Wes thought. He didn’t want Vivian, of all people, thinking badly of his family. He wanted her to be proud of him. Proud that she worked for Robinson Tech.

  When he didn’t reply, she went on, “Have you met your half brother?”

  He frowned. “No. Ben met him over in London, where Keaton lives. You see, up until a few months ago, we had no idea he existed.”

  “How did you learn about him?” Vivian asked. “Ella said something about Lucie helping Ben find the man. How does she fit into the picture?”

  He let out a long sigh. “It’s a complicated story, Viv. You see, our younger sister Rachel—the tall, pretty one you met before the ceremony—she suspected something didn’t ring true with our father. I don’t know what made her suspicious, but anyway, one day when no one was around to notice, she searched through some of Dad’s things. Sure enough, she found a driver’s license with a much younger picture of Dad on it and the name Jerome Fortune.”

  “He might have had the license made for a prank or something. It doesn’t necessarily mean that was once his identity.”

  “You’re right. But there was more than the license. Rachel discovered several pieces of old correspondence with the same name.”

  Amazement dawned across her features. “Jerome Fortune? I see the connection to Lucie now. That must have been a stunner for all of you.”

  “It was stunning all right,” he said grimly. “Since then Ben’s been possessed with finding out what it all means and why our father would assume an alias.”

  “Why not just ask your father for the truth? Wouldn’t that be the simplest way to find out?”

  Wes let out a low, caustic laugh. “Gerald, ’fess up? Are you kidding? His lips are clamped tighter than a pair of vise grips. He refuses to talk about any of it. In fact, he and Ben have been at such odds over the whole issue that I’m surprised Dad even showed up today. He probably decided staying away would create even more gossip.”

  “How very strange,” she murmured thoughtfully, her gaze straying across the room to Gerald Robinson standing with a group of businessmen. “So Ben’s search for your father’s background is the reason Keaton’s existence was uncovered?”

  “Keaton and possibly others,” Wes said with a grimace. “To be frank, most of us siblings wish Ben would forget the whole thing. If more offspring are discovered, it will hurt our mother even more.”

  She nodded ruefully. “That’s understandable. So why is Ben so intent on unearthing this information? It’s not like you need the Fortune name attached to yours. You Robinsons are already famous in your own right.”

  Wes sighed. “It’s not fame or money with Ben. It’s the truth he’s after—why our father changed his identity. But as far as I’m concerned, the truth is sometimes better left buried.”

  As they glided together to the beat of the music, her gaze made a slow survey of his face, and Wes wondered if she was feeling the same sort of hot, sweet awareness that was building in him. He didn’t know what was happening, but something about being in her arms was creating an upheaval inside him. She was filling him with desire, and things were coming out of his mouth that normally he would keep carefully locked away.

  “Well, at least your parents are still married. Mine have been divorced since I was in junior high school,” she said, her voice full of regret. “My sister believes they parted because our father had a roaming eye. But I’m convinced their marriage ended because they had nothing in common. They spent very little time together, and whenever they did, they were both bored out of their minds or squabbling over something silly.”

  Her revelation had Wes studying the lovely angles and curves of her face. When she’d first come to him with the idea for My Perfect Match, he’d figured the app was merely a product of her fertile imagination. Now he could see the purpose behind the project held a far deeper meaning for her. Because of her parents’ divorce, she truly believed passion had nothing to do with a lasting relationship.

  “You believe your parents had nothing in common? Believe me, Viv, I’ve often wondered what drew my parents together in the first place. And I damn well wonder what keeps them together. Their marriage is a disastrous sham. Mother puts up a front and pretends she’s happy. But deep down, she has to be hurting over Dad’s philandering.” He shook his head. “I’m happy for Ben and I wish him and Ella a long and loving marriage. But as for myself, I don’t want any part of that.”

  As soon as his words died away, he expected Vivian to fire a retort back at him. Like how jaded he sounded. Or how he shouldn’t allow his father’s mistakes to mar his chance for love and happiness. But she didn’t say any of that. Instead, she turned a pensive gaze on the couples swirling around them.

  The sea of red dresses moving to the music suddenly faded to a blur as Wes’s gaze settled on the sweet, tempting curve of her lips. He was aching to taste her mouth. Aching to lose himself in her kiss.

  His head leaned toward hers, and a sense of triumph rippled through him as she rested her soft cheek against his.

  “I agree. Being married to the wrong person is a tragic situation. It’s a mistake I definitely don’t want to make.”

  She pulled her head back just enough to look at him, and Wes very nearly forgot they were in a crowded reception hall with hundreds of couples dancing, laughing and sipping champagne. Her lips were only a scant space away from his, and suddenly he was fighting a war with himself. All he wanted was to capture her lips beneath his and kiss her until they were both breathless and hungry for more.

  “You won’t make that mistake,” he murmured, “if you stay away from marriage.”

  “That’s true. But I still believe marriage can be a beautiful thing when two people are perfectly matched and compatible.”

  A beautiful thing. Yes, carrying Vivian to a quiet, private place, slipping the red dress off her shoulders and making hot, sweet love to her—that would be beautiful—but crazy and dangerous!

  The serious direction of his thoughts was enough to snap Wes out of his dreamy haze, and he quickly stepped back from the tempting warmth of her body. “It’s getting warm in here, and I’m getting dry,” he said in a husky rush. “Let’s go find something to drink.”

  *

  Not long after they left the dance floor, Wes made their excuses to leave the reception. Seeing the party wasn’t anywhere near ending, Vivian was surprised that he was ready to leave his brother’s wedding celebration. As he drove to her apartment, she continued to wonder what had come over him. It was as if a switch had been flipped inside him. One minute, they’d been talking and dancing, their bodies snug as they moved to the music. Then, all of a sudden, he’d stopped in the middle of the song and practically jerked her off the dance floor. In the matter of a few seconds, he’d gone from warm and personable to cold and distant.

  She’d tried to think of something she might have said or done to cause the change in him, but it was beyond her. Now, as she glanced at his moody profile, she decided it was probably a good thing he’d called an end to their time together. For a while, she’d been enjoying his company far too much. His distant behavior hurt, but it was a good reminder that, for him, today was all pretend. And now the pretense was over.

  By the time he parked in the driveway, the sky was growing dark, and a brisk north wind was sweeping across the tiny yard in front of her ground-level apartment. A hollow feeling was creeping over her, but she fought to push it away.

  Unfastening her seatbelt, she said, “It’s gotten colder outside. There’s no need for you to see me in.”

  He cut her a wry glance. “I don’t think I’ll die of hypothermia if I walk you to your door.”

  “All right.” Since her cape was already fastened around her shoulders, she grabbed up her handbag and let herself out of the car before he had a chance to skirt the hood an
d do it for her.

  He didn’t take her arm on the short walk to the porch. Instead, he kept at least a foot of space between them as he walked by her side. Once they reached the steps, he said in a stiff voice, “Thank you for accompanying me today, Vivian. You’ve been a good sport about it all.”

  A good sport. A work buddy. That’s all you’ll ever be to Wes Robinson.

  The mocking voice in Vivian’s head was hurtful. Because it was speaking the truth. And that was something she desperately needed to face and accept.

  Swallowing the thickness in her throat, she said, “You’re welcome, Wes. Thank you for inviting me. The wedding was a fairy tale, and so was the reception. It’s been a memorable day for me.”

  Frown lines appeared in the middle of his forehead and she suddenly realized he was peering at something over her shoulder. Turning, she spotted a box lying at the foot of the storm door.

  “Oh! I wasn’t expecting a delivery.”

  “Maybe you’d better see what it is,” Wes suggested. “Someone could be pulling a prank.”

  She chuckled. “This isn’t Halloween, Wes. It’s Valentine’s Day.”

  “I’m sure you’ve broken a heart or two in the past.”

  “Sure. I’m a femme fatale,” she joked.

  Vivian collected the box from the concrete floor and quickly pulled off the lid. To her surprise, she found a beautiful bouquet of dark pink roses and a small card with a brief message.

  “Looks like you have an admirer,” Wes commented.

  For one split second before she’d found the card, Vivian had foolishly imagined Wes had sent the flowers as a Valentine’s gift. A way to thank her for being his date. She should have known better. Wes didn’t send flowers to women who worked for him. He saved that sort of thing for his real dates.

  “Roses from one of the My Perfect Match dates,” she told him. “How nice of him to remember me on Valentine’s Day.”

  For the first time since the two of them had been dancing together, a genuine smile crossed his face.

  “Must be a thoughtful guy. Are you going to see him again?”

  She placed the lid back on the boxed flowers and balanced them beneath one arm while she unlocked the entrance to her apartment. Once she had the door open, she turned awkwardly back to him.

  “Perhaps. But I’m not about to limit myself. The app went on sale today, so hopefully the pool of bachelors should grow from the small test group. I’m anxious to see what else the computer picks for me.”

  “I’ve got to admit, Viv, that so far I’m impressed with the app. I’ve had some great dates, and it appears that you have, too. Maybe we’ll both come out winners in this dating game.”

  A game. Vivian inwardly sighed. She supposed he would consider the whole matter a contest between them. He wasn’t in the market for a serious relationship, and considering the way he felt about his father, she doubted that would ever change.

  “I suppose both of us will win if the app is a success,” she said simply.

  “I couldn’t have said it better,” he agreed, then leaned over and pressed a chaste kiss to her cold cheek. “Happy Valentine’s Day.”

  Resisting the urge to touch the spot he’d just kissed, she murmured, “Happy Valentine’s Day to you, too.”

  “Thanks. See you Monday. At the office.”

  He turned to step off the porch, and the sight of his retreating back sent a pang of loss rushing through her. Before she realized what she was about to do, she said, “Uh—Wes, would you like to come in for coffee? The evening is still early.”

  Pausing, he glanced at his watch as though to calculate whether he could spend any more time with her, and for a second she wished she could take back the invitation. He’d already whisked her away from the reception party at a ridiculously early hour. That should’ve been a loud and clear signal that he was more than tired of her company.

  “It is still early,” he agreed. “And after all that champagne and punch, coffee would be nice. Thank you, Viv.”

  The elation rushing through her was ridiculous, and though she tried to stem it, she couldn’t stop a bright smile from spreading across her face.

  “Great. Let’s get out of the cold.”

  They entered the apartment, and after she’d secured the door behind him, she gestured casually toward the couch. “Make yourself comfortable. Or if you’d rather, you can join me in the kitchen.”

  “I’ll go with you,” he said. “You probably won’t believe this, but I can do a few things in the kitchen. Even make coffee.”

  She chuckled as he followed her through a wide doorway and into an L-shaped kitchen with a small dining area.

  “I believe you can drop a little plastic cup into a machine and press a button.”

  “There’s nothing wrong with making coffee that way.”

  She playfully wrinkled her nose at him. “Go ahead and have a seat. Tonight I’m letting you off coffee detail.”

  She dropped the box of roses onto the tabletop and wondered why she wasn’t feeling more thrilled about receiving the romantic gift. It wasn’t often that she received flowers from a man. And yet the app date, who’d been attentive enough to remember her on Valentine’s Day, had done nothing to make her heart flutter with eager excitement. When he’d smiled or touched her hand, she’d felt as though she was talking to a brother, cousin or friend. Not a potential lover.

  Wes gestured to the box of roses. “You’d better put those in water. You wouldn’t want them to wilt.”

  “I’ll take care of them. After all, the flowers might be the only thing I get out of My Perfect Match,” she said, then tried to add a lighthearted laugh, but the strained sound resembled a sob more than a chuckle.

  He took a seat at the little glass dining table while Vivian removed her cape and draped it over the back of a chair. She would’ve liked to change out of her dress, but since he was stuck in his formal clothes, she felt it would be impolite to make herself more comfortable. Besides, after tonight, she’d probably never have another chance to wear such a fancy dress. She might as well make the most of it.

  He said, “Looks to me like you’re off to a good start. And we’re just now getting started with our dates. You might find Mr. Wonderful out of this thing.”

  Strange, but right now she couldn’t imagine herself falling in love with any man. Each time she tried to picture herself as a bride or a wife, Wes’s face kept getting in the way. Besides not making any sense, it was downright annoying.

  “And perhaps you’ll find the woman who’s ideal for you,” she countered.

  He made a scoffing noise. “You don’t actually believe a person can be perfect, do you?”

  “The app is named My Perfect Match, not My Perfect Person,” she reasoned.

  “I stand corrected.”

  He drummed his fingers on the tabletop, and Vivian glanced around to see him making a survey of his surroundings. No doubt her modest apartment was unlike anything he was accustomed to. And she’d bet every dollar she owned that he’d never dated a woman of her social standing. Now that he was seeing her in her domain, he was probably wondering what had possessed him to take her to a family wedding. The idea cut into her far more than it should have.

  She turned back to the coffeemaker and tried to focus on her task instead of her boss.

  Silence engulfed the room before he finally asked, “Do you normally go out on Valentine’s Day?”

  “On a date?” she asked.

  “Any other way doesn’t count. It’s a day for being with the one you love,” he said, then quickly followed that with a derisive little laugh. “At least the one you love on that particular day.”

  She wanted to ask him if he’d ever been in love, but after the way he’d clammed up at the wedding reception, she decided getting that personal wouldn’t be a good idea. Anyway, it was none of her business if Wes had ever loved a woman. And it never would be.

  She said, “I’ve had a few Valentine’s Day dates. Some of t
hem were nice and some were stinkers. Funny, but the awful ones are the ones I remember the most. What about you?”

  With the coffee brewing, Vivian busied herself finding a vase and filling it with water. Out of the corner of her eye, she saw Wes slipping out of his jacket and loosening his tie. At least he appeared to be relaxing, she thought. The fact help ease some of the tension that had coiled her in knots the moment the two of them had entered the apartment.

  “Same with me. You try to forget the bad ones, but those are the ones that stick in your mind. One year Ben talked me into going on a blind double date with him on Valentine’s Day. That evening turned out to be disastrous. I thought all four of us were going to be thrown out of the nightclub or arrested.”

  Laughing at the absurd image, she carried the vase over to the table and placed the bunch of roses into the water. “You being rowdy? That’s hard to imagine.”

  A wan smile curved one corner of his lips. “Anything can happen when you’re out with Ben, and I knew better than to go with him in the first place. But he can be awfully persuasive when he wants to be.”

  She eased into the chair across from him. “I’ve always thought having a twin must be very different from having just a brother or sister,” she said thoughtfully.

  “It’s a connection you can’t explain. Even though we have different mindsets, we’re there for each other. That’s not to say we don’t have our share of disagreements, because we do. But no matter what goes on in our lives, we’ll always be like this.” He held up crossed fingers.

  “I’m surprised to hear you say that,” she said. Then, as she watched one of his brows arch in question, she quickly added, “I mean, I’ve always had the impression that you and Ben were competitive. That must surely put a strain on your relationship.”

  His eyes narrowed. “Why don’t you come out and say you’re talking about the COO position?”