The Matchmaker Bride

by Ginny Baird

  “You haven’t even heard my plan,” she said. “My very excellent plan.”

  “Is ‘excellent’ code word for ‘crazy’ these days?”

  “Funny.” She glanced around the living area, her eyes landing on the small two-seater cushioned sofa with a boxy wood frame. “Mind if I sit?” She did before he could answer. “My day was exhausting.”

  “You’re telling me.”

  “I really wish I’d been here.” Amazingly, she giggled. “It had to have been kind of fun being hounded by the paparazzi.”

  She had to be kidding him. “What?”

  “Come on, Derrick. When have you ever had so much excitement in one afternoon?”

  His gaze drifted toward his bedroom and she held up a hand. “Wait. Don’t answer that.”

  He took a seat in an armchair beside her. She obviously wasn’t going anywhere—yet. He’d make sure she was gone before dinner, though. This was the first day of his two-week break between his spring and summer classes, and he was not letting Meredith Galanes ruin it with her cockeyed ideas and nutty proposals. Even if she did bring a pot roast. Maybe he could get her to leave it to make up for her rude interruption—and that media fray.

  She stared around the room and into the kitchen that was open from here, divided by his oak dining table with four chairs. She apparently noticed the coffee machine, because she asked, “Coffee?”

  Derrick motioned grandly toward the kitchen and Meredith shot him an annoyed look.

  “Fine,” she said, standing. “I’ll make it myself.” She walked to the one-cup-at-time brewer, then started hunting around through his cabinets.

  “Bottom left drawer,” he said, indicating where the coffee pods were kept.

  She looked up, her brown curls spilling past her shoulders. He thought her hair looked longer than it had been last summer but he wasn’t sure. He hadn’t spent much time thinking about her at Brent’s wedding before that final night other than to notice the fact that she was generally attractive, and hugely irritating in every possible way.

  So irritating that each time she’d tossed out some verbal barb, he hadn’t been able to stop himself from sending one back. She’d been so provoking that sparring with her had become a forgone conclusion. Brent had asked him to rein himself in, and he’d tried super hard. But Meredith got under his skin in this inexplicable way. With that sassy attitude of hers, and those really dark eyes. Not to mention her sexy curves.

  No. Stop. He was not going there.

  He’d probably only been tempted that once because it had been late, and he’d been tired, and had also maybe had one too many beers.

  “Want some?” she asked, holding up two small coffee pods.

  He mentally scrubbed all thoughts of her attractiveness from his brain. “Why not?”

  While it was true he’d had coffee earlier, he could stand having one more cup. It was the cordial thing to do since she wanted some, and he could be cordial when he wanted to. His Grandmother Margaret would be so proud.

  Derrick shook his head. Meredith Galanes back in Blue Hill. His family would be shocked. He never thought he’d see the day. Wait until he told Brent. Or maybe Brent had already been informed of her impending visit? He and Hope were married now, and Hope’s sister, Jackie, and Meredith were best friends. So.

  “Who else knows about this?” he asked as she prepared the coffee, first his and then hers.

  “No one,” she said, setting his mug on the counter. “How do you take yours?”

  “Black.”

  “Except for my regular viewers, plus those who watch Tanya.” She set her chin in thought. “We have some overlap. And then there’s my assistant Beth, and my station manager Jerry. The entire set crew for Talk Time of course, and some of them also work for me—”

  “Not exactly a secret, is it?” he asked when she handed him his coffee.

  “It’s not exactly national news, either,” she said. “Mostly local to Boston.” She shrugged. “And I guess my station’s affiliate up here.”

  “So?”

  “So. Maybe we can keep a lid on this press thing without revealing the truth yet.”

  “Why would we want to do that?”

  “To give you time to win back Olivia!”

  “What?” He sighed. “Look, it’s been ten years. Who says I even want her?”

  Meredith gave him a long look that shot right to his heart. “Are you telling me you don’t?”

  She was trying to use his late-night post-wedding confessions against him. Fine. Meredith could think what she wanted. That didn’t mean she was right. And even if she was, there was no hope for him and Olivia anymore. Was there?

  “I know what you’re thinking,” Meredith said. “That it’s impossible. You and Olivia are history, and time’s moved on. But it really doesn’t, you know? Not when two people are destined for each other. Time has a way of standing still in that case, and waiting for the right moment to come along for those two fated soul mates to be reunited with each other.”

  He questioned whether she honestly believed that, or if it was just part of her spiel on her matchmaker show. Either way, it sounded like psychobabble to him. Or, more like lovesick babble. Like the sort of story you told people who wanted to believe in happy endings, no matter how long the odds.

  “I don’t even know where she is anymore.”

  “I’ll find her.”

  He raised an eyebrow. “What if she’s not interested?”

  “What if she is?”

  Derrick sank back in his chair, weighing this outcome. “Then, I don’t know.” While it was true he’d vaguely considered the possibility of getting back together with Olivia, he’d never imagined there’d be a real opportunity to pull it off. Now that Meredith had brought it up, though, the idea did sound mildly intriguing.

  “If she is…” Meredith got her game face on. “You could give things another try.”

  He leveled her a look, wondering if that’s what he wanted. What Olivia would want. “Possibly. No guarantees.” But his mind was already wandering through his options. What if Olivia was interested? What if she regretted their breaking up and the harsh way she’d treated him, but had never had the courage to tell him? If given the chance, would she step up to the plate now?

  “I mean, of course I won’t pursue this if you don’t want me to.”

  He suddenly felt like her big, dark eyes could peer straight through him, right down into his lonely soul. While he’d dated around a bunch over these last ten years, he’d never become serious about anyone. Could it be he’d been subconsciously waiting to reconcile with Olivia?

  “Do you?” she pressed. “Want me to pursue it?”

  “I’m not sure,” he said honestly. The more he thought it over, the more tempted he became. Just to see Olivia one more time. Would they still have their old spark? “What if I do?”

  Her eyes glimmered. “Then just say the word. If there’s any way on earth, I can make it happen,” she said with uncanny confidence. “I’m that good. Give me six weeks and I can do it.”

  “Six weeks?” He frowned. “That will take most of the summer.”

  “Okay, maybe I can do this in four,” she conceded. “I need to buy time for my station to negotiate with the network and help secure my syndication deal.”

  “And where will you be in the meantime?”

  She brightened. “Right here in your quaint little cabin with you.”

  “Pretending to be my girl?”

  “We can stay in separate rooms.”

  “I’ve only got one.”

  Her chest reddened first and then her neck until finally her face was in full bloom.

  “Are you blushing?”

  “No. It’s just hot in here. Maybe we should open a window?”

  “Or…maybe we should drop this whole idea, and y
ou should go back to Boston.” He wasn’t that curious about Olivia.

  “Not when I’m this close,” she pleaded. She motioned with her thumb and forefinger. “Just a smidgen away from hitting it big. I’m begging you, Derrick, for this one little favor. In return, I can do you a huge one. Once I get the contract, I’m golden. And, with you going back to your ex, everyone will understand why you and I ‘broke up.’ We can even say that I graciously stepped aside, in light of true love.”

  He tried to imagine what it would feel like holding Olivia in his arms again, but his mind couldn’t quite get there. Not with Meredith standing right in front of him. Though, maybe seeing Olivia again would bring it all back. Now that they were older and had both matured, things could be different. Better. He and Olivia had shared lots of good times. Not just good times, great ones. In the beginning, before it had all blown apart.

  “I don’t know, Mer,” he said, and this time she didn’t flinch at the nickname. “This pretend relationship thing is a big ask.” A chance to be reunited with Olivia was one thing, but now she’d coupled it with this other request. Then again, fair was fair. Derrick understood the tit for tat and wasn’t opposed to Meredith also trying to get something out of the deal. In a way, he’d expect nothing less of the savvy woman.

  And, to his surprise, he kind of liked the idea of helping her.

  “But it’s only short-term,” she repeated in an effort to convince him. “And we’ll just be pretending for the public, not your family.”

  “They’re not going to like this either way.”

  “I’m very good at smoothing things over,” she said, and he hoped that was true.

  She would have to be extra smooth to get his family to go along with her strategy. Then again, most of them had actually liked Olivia. A lot.

  “How do you plan to approach her?” he asked.

  She blinked, bouncing excitedly. “So your answer is yes? You’ll do it?”

  “My answer’s a tentative maybe.”

  She deflated. “Sorry, Derrick. That’s not good enough.”

  “Okay then, yes,” he said, figuring he could always change his mind later, if this got too weird. Why not? He cocked his chin and studied her. “You didn’t answer my question.”

  “About approaching Olivia?” Her eyebrows knitted together. “I’ll have to think on it, but don’t worry. Just leave it to me. I’ll come up with something. Something logical that makes sense.”

  Sure, right. Like anything was logical or made sense about this proposal. Derrick couldn’t believe he was considering this—he must be touched in his head. Or maybe in his bruised and battered heart. “What if she’s already involved with someone?”

  “What if she’s not?” Meredith asked slyly.

  Derrick rubbed the side of his neck, pondering the time frame. He was on vacation for this next little bit, but then would be back to instructing at the boat school and didn’t need all sorts of additional distractions going on. Not to mention the stress. He definitely wasn’t putting up with this scheme for a month. Even a couple of weeks seemed too long, and he didn’t want to wreck his whole two-week vacation. Today was Monday so he could spare a week and a half, he guessed. At most. He still wanted a few days of R&R at the end.

  “I’ll give you ten days,” he said, deciding.

  “Ten days?”

  “I thought you were excellent?”

  “Oh yes! I am.”

  “Fine. Then prove it.”

  “But my contract might not even be—”

  “Ten days. Take it or leave it.”

  He met her gaze and she stared at him, apparently not backing down.

  “Starting tomorrow,” she finally said.

  “Starting today.”

  “Okay,” she said. “I’ll take it.”

  Chapter Four

  Derrick hefted Meredith’s heavy suitcase out of the trunk of her car. “How long are you planning to stay?” he joked. “Indefinitely?”

  She grabbed a rolling carry-on bag and already had a huge canvas tote over one shoulder. “I was hoping for the summer, at least,” she said, closing the trunk. “But I’ll work with what we’ve got. Two weeks,” she added craftily.

  “Ten days, Mer.” He recalled her arrival at his grandparents’ place last year. She’d come loaded down with bags then, and she’d been there less than a week. He waited for her to walk ahead of him and up the cabin’s front steps. She jimmied open the door and held it open for him as he lumbered forward with her luggage. “What did you pack in here? Bricks?”

  “Shoes, mostly.” She set her carry-on down in the kitchen and looked around.

  “You won’t have much use for extra pairs of heels in Blue Hill.”

  “We’ll see!” she said with a know-it-all grin.

  Derrick grumbled to himself, wondering what sorts of fancy soirees she envisioned herself attending. There wasn’t a lot going on at his cabin that would call for wardrobe. Even if she did imagine herself a television personality, there was no camera crew here.

  He thanked his lucky stars for that. He carefully scanned her big suitcase, hoping it didn’t contain video recording equipment. Maybe that was why it was so heavy?

  She surveyed two slightly ajar doors adjoining the kitchen. One led to Derrick’s room and the other to the cabin’s single bath. A third door stood wide open, leading to a small laundry room beside the pantry.

  “This couch a sleeper?” she asked, eying the small two-seater.

  “Yep, and fairly comfy, too.”

  “Great,” she said, heading for his bedroom. “You take that.”

  “Oh, no you don’t,” he said. “I’m not sleeping out here. You are.”

  She glanced over her shoulder. “But I’ve got a bad back.” She frowned, but it was a fakey-frown.

  “Since when?”

  “Since my long drive up here.”

  “You poor thing.” For his money—his fakey-frown was way better than hers. “Then absolutely. Be my guest.” He motioned toward his bedroom and she smiled and walked past him, carrying her shoulder bag and dragging along her small rolling suitcase.

  He crossed his arms in front of him and waited.

  She reached the threshold and stopped on a dime. It probably took everything she had to keep her mouth from dropping open. He chuckled to himself, knowing it was a pigsty in there. But hey, it was his pigsty and he hadn’t exactly known he’d be entertaining.

  She goggled at his unmade bed and the discarded clothing littering the floor. There might have been a damp towel or two laying around as well. From his vantage point, Derrick saw one of them draped over the back of a director’s chair. He couldn’t remember if he’d left his dirty dishes in there from when he’d been eating nachos in bed last night and watching the sports channel, but—from the look on her face—he guessed probably so.

  “Um…” She turned toward him and her shoulders sagged. “What did you say about that sleeper sofa again?”

  He repressed a grin, knowing he’d won this battle. “It will suit you fine. What’s more, you’ll even get clean linens.”

  “Well, that’s a relief.”

  “I know it’s not the Ritz. Or my grandparents’ guest cottage, either,” he said, remembering that’s where she’d bunked up last summer. He thought a moment. “Hey, there’s an idea! You can stay there.”

  “Derrick.” She rolled her eyes. “That would ruin the whole illusion.”

  “Distance makes the heart grow fonder.”

  “Ha ha. Good try, but no.”

  “Maybe we can say you’re very proper?”

  “I am proper. That’s why I’m staying on the sofa.” She huffed. “Are you changing your mind or something?”

  Not yet, but he appreciated leaving himself some wiggle room. “No. Are you?”

  “Of course not.” />
  “Okay then.” He was embarrassed to admit he enjoyed teasing her, but she was just so easy to rile up. Because she always thought she knew everything, which—obviously—she didn’t. It bugged him that she’d assumed he’d agree with her ideas and that she’d be staying for the summer, and had even packed accordingly. After seeing his room she was likely glad for the shorter stay. He was surprised she hadn’t asked for a fire hose to wash it down.

  Scents from the pot roast lingered in the air, making his stomach rumble. She’d plugged it in and set in on low so it would warm up. He couldn’t believe she was really staying for dinner, much less spending the night.

  Ten whole nights. Whoa.

  He hoped they could handle shacking up together for that long. At Brent’s wedding, they’d barely been able to stand being in the same room for more than ten minutes. Okay, maybe they hadn’t really fought as much as they’d disagreed about things. Maybe if they remained focused on their objectives, they could avoid any needless bickering.

  He checked his phone and saw it was half past five. Since the sun wouldn’t set until after eight, he still had plenty of daylight left for an outing. “What time did you want to eat?” he asked, thinking he might put some space between them by taking out his rowboat. That would give her a chance to settle in and allow him time to think things through more thoroughly.

  “Does around seven sound good?”

  “Seven sounds perfect.”

  “Maybe I can make us a salad to go with?” She grinned and her dangly seashell earrings clattered. “What have you got in the fridge?”

  “Fresh jalapenos and cheese.”

  “Anything else?”

  “There’s probably a little milk left and maybe some beer.”

  She sighed. “How close is the nearest store?”

  “It’s the co-op in town, far side of my grandparents’ place.”

  “Oh! That’s kind of a drive.”

  “Forty minutes from here.”

  “What? Seriously?” She peered out the kitchen window and then back at him. “You’re telling me you’re in the middle of nowhere?”

  “Seems like you might have noticed on your way in.”