Miss Match

by Leslie Carroll

  Kathryn continued to stare at this English arrival. I have no idea who he is, but I could just listen to him read the phone book. “Was she a blonde? Brunette?” Kathryn heard herself asking. “Oh, God. Never mind me.”

  “I believe she had dark hair, if you’re that curious.”

  The closed blinds of Walker’s office ensured him total privacy. An icky, anxious sensation made its way through Kathryn’s intestines. She suddenly felt flushed and dizzy, as though she might faint at any moment, and immediately diagnosed the root of her agitation: jealousy. She prayed that Walker’s visitor wasn’t the dreaded Valerie. What was wrong with her? Here she was, talking to a strikingly handsome Englishman, and at the forefront of her mind was the thought that Walker was shuttered away in his office with another woman.

  “Are you a friend of Hart’s?” Colin asked.

  “N-no,” she stammered. “I’m a client as well. I came by to request a couple of videos to view.”

  “Do you have a name?” Colin smiled and the corners of his eyes crinkled. Good God, they were just about the same color as Walker’s. Shave off a couple of inches of height, and a few pounds, add a drop-dead English accent, and you had Walker’s twin. It was eerie.

  “Kathryn Lamb,” she said, pulling herself together and shaking the man’s hand. His skin felt warm, but dry.

  “I’m waiting to view some tapes myself, Kathryn, but if you don’t find me too forward, I should like to get to know you. Shall we go for a coffee? I have a feeling I won’t be able to do better than you.”

  Anything to take her mind away from obsessing about Walker’s activities. “Why not?” she replied, trying to smile.

  The door to Walker’s inner sanctum opened, and Kathryn did a double-take when he ushered his guest into the foyer. “What’s going on?” she asked her sister, stepping just outside the screening room.

  “I wanted to get some advice,” Eleanor replied. She looked like she’d been awake all night. Her eyelids were swollen from crying and dark half moons of exhaustion had formed under her eyes.

  “You didn’t tell me you were coming here.”

  “I hadn’t planned on it. But for some silly reason, I thought that a matchmaker might know something about marriages.”

  “I tried to tell her it’s my mother who’s the expert,” Walker said, trying to lighten the mood.

  “Are you and Dan planning to split for good? I thought it was a temporary separation, just to get your individual heads cleared. Wait . . . you’re not a Six in the City client now, are you?”

  Eleanor finally managed a genuine smile and a half-hearted laugh. “You must be kidding!”

  Kathryn gave her sister a cautionary look, indicating that other clients were within earshot.

  “What I meant was . . .” Eleanor said, lowering her voice a notch, “was that I’m not exactly ready to throw in the marital towel. Not yet, anyway.” She turned to her host. “Thanks for what you said. It makes a lot of sense. And maybe it will make a difference.”

  Eleanor shook Walker’s hand and Kathryn felt a little stab of jealousy. She looked at her kid sister.

  “Don’t worry. I didn’t get all tingly,” Eleanor whispered to her. “He’s all yours, if you really want him,” she added, and headed out the front door of the agency.

  Kathryn was on the verge of saying something to Walker to thank him for being so concerned about her family, but she stopped before she could get a word out. His demeanor was all business and he barely nodded in her direction before he spoke to his British double.

  “Mr. Fleetwood?” The screening room door opened wider and Walker entered the room. “Kathryn.” From the way a muscle in his jaw twitched, Kathryn could tell that he was uncomfortable about seeing her again.

  “Mr. Hart,” Kathryn said evenly. “I came to see a couple of videos, but Mr. Fleetwood here has invited me for a coffee, so I won’t be staying after all.”

  “Ditto.” Colin nodded in assent. “I’m impressed, Hart, if Ms. Lamb is any indication of the caliber of your female clientele.”

  He called me “Ms.” Kathryn thought with a chuckle, recalling how Walker had given her such a hard time about that appellation, the day she taped her own video.

  “Well,” Walker said, trying to keep his composure. “I guess you don’t need to view these right now.” He waved a stack of three tapes, one of which was marked “Lamb, K.” on its black spine.

  Kathryn decided to forge ahead and not pursue the root of Walker’s unusual behavior. “Well, it seems we’re all on the same wavelength. That’s my tape.” She nodded at one of the boxes in Walker’s hand.

  “Delightful. But I would rather hear all about you in person.” Colin motioned for Kathryn to precede him out of the screening room. “Thank you, Hart. It’s been a pleasure.” The pilot shook Walker’s hand again, as he stepped past him into the foyer.

  “And I thank you, too, Mr. Hart.” Kathryn took the opportunity to shake Walker’s hand as well. Uh-oh. Much to her chagrin, that frisson she had felt every time she and Walker shook hands had not disappeared, despite her new prospects. She turned to Colin. “I’m very glad you decided not to view my tape after all. I started laughing in the middle. I just found it so hard to be serious about this whole video dating business.”

  “You, too?” Colin held the door for Kathryn as they stepped into the hallway. She turned back to read Walker’s expression, but couldn’t decipher what was going on past his squint. Walker had been blinking and making all sorts of oddly contorted faces ever since he’d come out of his office. “Are you okay?” she asked Walker solicitously.

  “Yeah. Why?” he replied, trying not to rub his eyes. “Look, Mr. Fleetwood, I hate to have to meet and run, but I have some pressing business to attend to, if you don’t mind my excusing myself.” He turned and headed back to his private office, stopping at the doorway. “Enjoy your date, Ms. Lamb,” he said, keeping his back to his clients. He stayed in the doorway until he heard them close the main door of Six in the City behind them.

  Walker was trying his damnedest to keep the promise he had made to pull out all the stops in terms of finding Kathryn a husband and to keep things strictly business between the two of them from now on. In fact, Kathryn was the first woman he thought to recommend to the handsome and disgustingly dapper British Air pilot. It was time to go back to treating the business like a business. Time to put aside his personal jumble of conflicting feelings and endeavor to provide his clients with the satisfaction they paid him to deliver. And if he wasn’t ready to do that, Josh had suggested an obvious alternative: commit to Kathryn. Otherwise, leave her alone forever.

  Walker retreated into his private sanctum. He looked at the boxes of tapes in his hand, fixing his gaze on Kathryn’s video. Then he did something he hadn’t done since he’d dented his dorm room wall back when he was nineteen. So what if he killed a few more brain cells, or self-inflicted more pain. Closing his eyes, he banged his forehead a few times against his office door.

  Chapter 22

  It was a perfect day to meander through Central Park. Colin and Kathryn ambled leisurely along Poets’ Walk, sharing their life stories and ambitions, finding one another extremely amiable companions. They strolled through the zoo and were just in time to catch the spectacle of the sea lions being fed an afternoon snack. “I always wondered what might happen if one of them refused to perform on command,” Colin mused. “You know, a moody, temperamental sort. An iconoclast. They must get sick of singing for their supper day after day.”

  Kathryn thought of her sister. “Park Avenue matrons do it. Why not Fifth Avenue mammals as well?”

  They continued their visit, stopping at one of the cages of the higher primates. “Golden-rumped tamarin,” Kathryn remarked, gazing at the animal’s naturally bizarre coiffure. “I used to date someone kind of like that.”

  “Do you mean the crotch scratching?” Colin asked.

  “Actually, I was thinking about his playing with the mirror. Look how in love
he is with his reflection. And the obsession with his hair. But now that you mention it . . .”

  They maintained a steady stream of banter as they left the zoo and headed out of the park, toward Fifth Avenue. Approaching a flower vendor at Fifty-ninth Street, Colin asked Kathryn to select some loose blooms and create her own bouquet. No snapdragons were to be had. The pilot recommended that the white roses, freesia, and Hawaiian orchids be tied with a ribbon, rather than wrapped in paper “like fish and chips.” Kathryn selected a length of lavender gingham.

  Colin suggested that they stop for an Irish coffee, so they popped across the street to the Oak Bar at the Plaza, which was remarkably quiet at that hour. The coffee was strong and delicious, and on her empty stomach, the whiskey went straight to Kathryn’s head. “I feel like I’m playing hookey,” she said, tapping the pad of her forefinger on and off the hole at the end of a cocktail straw. “Drinking so early in the day. I probably shouldn’t be using this. The plastic may be melting into the coffee. But I’ll drink it too fast if I don’t sip.” I must sound like an idiot, she thought as she gazed into Colin’s pale eyes, wondering if anything made them turn indigo.

  It didn’t take long to learn at least one thing that made the pilot ardent. The man positively waxed rhapsodic when he mentioned the freedom he’d felt every time he took off down a runway and each time the Concorde reached mach one. “When I discovered flight, and found that the thrill of taking off into the heavens and actually, physically leaving the nasty little vicissitudes of life behind and exploring the unknown . . . not to mention every desirable tangible location I ever dreamed of . . . earthbound things suddenly became frightfully mundane.” Colin smiled and reached for Kathryn’s hand. “I hope I don’t sound crazy.”

  “No. Not at all. It’s a good thing to be passionate.”

  “Quite.”

  “Sometimes I feel the same way in my work. It’s more than the subject I teach. It’s the only way I know how to get kids to explore the unknown and to take chances.” She chuckled and ran her finger along the rim of her glass. “By the way, I think you should know this. I’m a shameless Anglophile. I could listen to a British accent all day. To be disgustingly honest, it wouldn’t matter what you said.”

  “That’s what I love about American women,” Colin said, finishing his Irish coffee. “You’re so refreshingly candid. You see, it’s not in our national character to be so . . .” He searched for the word.

  “Pushy? Obnoxious?” Kathryn teased. “Not a bit like you English.”

  “Forthright.” He dabbed at his mouth with the corner of the pink linen napkin. “You Yanks are forthright. But Amen I say to that! I’m Welsh-born, not English, actually . . . so while we’re being forthright,” Colin said with a self-deprecating smile. “I realize that you don’t know me from Adam, but if you’re willing to test your sense of adventure, I should like to offer you a proposal.”

  Kathryn’s heart skipped a beat or two. “Proposal?”

  “I’m usually in New York twice a week on average, but B.A.’s changed our schedule for the next month or so and I shan’t be back in New York until a week from Thursday. But then I have a four-day layover here until my next eastbound flight; and I have access to private planes out at Teterboro in New Jersey. I was considering flying down to Anguilla before the hurricane season kicks in. If you have never been to Cap Juluca, you’re in for a marvelous treat. I thought, perhaps, you might like to join me.”

  Kathryn struggled to control her dropping jaw.

  “That is, unless you have other plans. I realize of course this is a bit on the fly, so to speak.”

  “I teach on Friday mornings.”

  “Can the school find a substitute?”

  “To be blunt, I’m not comfortable about asking. I would prefer to teach the class. And to throw caution to the winds a bit more slowly.”

  “Is that a ‘no’?”

  “The last time I considered doing something this spontaneous, I blew a month’s rent at a Calvin Klein sample sale, and lived to regret it. In your case, Colin, it’s not a ‘no,’ but it’s a ‘can we wait to leave until sometime around noon?’ I’ll have my bag packed and I’ll be ready to rock and roll, but I have bad feelings about playing real hookey.”

  “I hope Briarcliff appreciates your loyalty.”

  “Call me madcap, but I feel a tremendous sense of responsibility toward the kids I teach. Toward my job.” Kathryn looked Colin full in the face. “Or maybe it’s just guilt. Or bad karma to cut school without death or dismemberment as an excuse.”

  “I think any man would be very lucky to have a woman like you. I can’t imagine why you would need to employ the services of a video dating enterprise.”

  “Things are not always as simple as they seem at first blush, Colin. Remember the golden-rumped tamarin? Anyway, I could ask the same of you. Why did you register with Six in the City?”

  “I get very lonely when I come to New York. I’m practically bicoastal, spending half of my life straddling one side or the other of the Atlantic pond. There’s so much to offer in New York City. And I haven’t met someone to share it with.”

  “Okay, I’m convinced.”

  “So does that mean you’ll accompany me to Anguilla for the weekend?”

  Kathryn grinned, dazed, not sure how much of it was the Cinderella-style offer and how much was the double shot of Jameson’s coursing through her veins. “Consider me packed.”

  “A, it’s hurricane season in the Caribbean, and B, you don’t know this guy from Adam. Want some popcorn?”

  Kathryn took the bowl from her sister. “That’s just what he said. Except he said he wanted to go down to Anguilla before hurricane season began. He’s a pilot, Ellie, you’d think he’d know the weather patterns. He’s not going to fly us into the eye of a storm or something.”

  “Still, why should you go so far away with him? What’s the rush?” Eleanor brushed some stray popcorn kernels off Kathryn’s velvet sofa into her palm. “Start slowly. If he likes beaches so much, go out to Amagansett. Or book a romantic weekend at Gurneys. Think about it. I have to head off to retrieve Johanna from peewee gymnastics. Then I’ll take her home to her father. He’s actually there now—for a change. Seems Dr. Laura canceled her tummy tuck. Don’t worry, I’ll be out of your hair when your ‘student’ arrives.”

  “You know, Rick wouldn’t have minded your being here last week, as long as you had stayed in the bedroom with the door closed during his coaching session. It was when you asked him that stunt-butt question that he got a bit uneasy. I still can’t believe you had the gall!” Kathryn sighed, and switched the subject. “Look, this separation must be taking an awful toll on Johanna. On all of you. Has Dan been willing to talk about your issues?”

  “Yes, he’s been very willing, but we’re chasing our tails. He listens to what I have to say, but still maintains that he’s right. And so far, he has yet to budge an inch. I feel like I’ve been living with someone different all this time. Someone other than the man I thought I married. He clearly prefers the more traditional incarnation of me to the me that decided I needed more out of life than diapers and playdates.”

  “What did Walker say to you, by the way?”

  “Just some helpful stuff,” Eleanor replied cryptically. “He’ll tell you if he wants to.”

  “I can’t believe you’re not sharing this with me. Your own sister.”

  “Don’t go trying to guilt me, Kitty. I’m immune to that these days. In fact, I was thinking, once the Brownie Points take off, of writing a self-help book on guilt-free Judaism.”

  “It would certainly be a best-seller. See you later.” Kathryn gave Eleanor a kiss on the cheek and escorted her to the door. Will I ever get any time to myself, she wondered. For the past few weeks her apartment had resembled Penn Station on a summer Friday and the tension and strain of having to play hostess, confidante, and coach was wearing her down. A tropical island getaway was starting to look better and better.

  Ka
thryn’s doorbell rang just as her session with Rick Byron was winding down. She peered through the keyhole and wasn’t sure she liked what she saw.

  “Excuse me, I didn’t realize you had . . . company,” Walker said. He noticed that the actor appeared quite comfy on Kathryn’s couch, cradling one of her brandy snifters. “I didn’t think drinking in midafternoon was quite your style, Ms. Lamb,” he said tensely. “But I suppose it’s all in the company you keep. I guess you changed your mind about the condom ‘issue,’ too,” he added under his breath.

  “Not that any explanation is needed, but—”

  “I just dropped in to say hello,” the actor interrupted. He threw Kathryn a look that clearly indicated she was not to divulge the reason for his presence, not even to Walker. “Would you excuse us, please?” Rick steered Kathryn out of Walker’s eyeline. “You said my manager wasn’t sending the payments for the lessons too promptly, so I thought I’d bring today’s check over myself. No reason you should have to be put out. It’s no reflection on you, by the way. Just so you know. Chaz gets very busy.”

  “Thanks,” Kathryn replied, pocketing the check and escorting Rick back to the living room.

  “You look great in those jeans, by the way,” the movie star said. “You could be Heather’s body double on the set. Well, I don’t mean you could be as in getting a job doubling her, I mean you could be, as in you look good enough to—”

  Walker coughed.

  “Inhaling too much smoke from your mother’s cigarillos lately?” Kathryn asked sweetly. She turned to the actor. “So, I’ll see you next week, then. Give me a call if you want to schedule something in between. It was really nice this afternoon by the way. You should be very proud of yourself.”

  “Ciao, bella.” Rick gave Kathryn a friendly kiss on the lips and he was out the door. “Good to see you, fella,” he called to Walker as he strode toward the elevator.

  Walker remained in the doorway. “Are you going into business for yourself?” he asked.