The Matchmaker's Happy Ending: Boardroom Bride and Groom

by Shirley Jump

  “It’s a pretty neighborhood. Lots of great architecture.” She raised a hand to touch the black curved iron and aluminum pole of the street light. It was a replica, and a pretty darn close historical copy of the original lights that had been lit by torches a century ago. “I love these lights, too. The old-fashioned ones are my favorite.”

  “Much nicer than the sodium vapor and high mast ones they use on the main roads. And in keeping with the tradition that’s so important to this neighborhood.”

  “Oh, and look, daisies.” She pointed to a house fronted by the bright white flowers. “I loved those when I was a kid, so much that my dad called me Daisy-doo. Silly, but you know, when it’s your dad, it’s kinda special.”

  “I bet.” His father had never been the kind for anything as superfluous as a nickname. Dan had been the one to tease, make jokes, envelop Jack with warmth and hugs. But the man whose DNA Jack shared, hadn’t done so much as offer a hug.

  He shrugged off the memories and pointed to the spire. “Back when this neighborhood was built, it was centered around the church. It’s still pretty central to the houses here.”

  They rounded another corner, and as they did, the road opened up, showcasing a simple white building. The small, unpretentious church sat in the middle of the neighborhood, with the rest of the streets jutting off like spokes. Street lights blinked to life, and danced golden light over the sidewalk. “This is my favorite time of day to be here,” Jack said. “It looks so beautiful and peaceful. So pristine and perfect, like a new beginning could be had for the asking.”

  He hadn’t realized he’d said that out loud until Marnie turned to him and smiled. “That sounds so...awesome.”

  “Thanks. But I can’t take all the credit.” He gestured toward the building.

  Marnie stopped walking and stared up at the church. “Wow. It is beautiful. Understated. Maybe because it’s so...ordinary. There are so many buildings in this city that try to compete for architectural design of the year, and this one is more...wholesome, if that makes sense.”

  “It does. I guess that’s why I like coming here.”

  “You go to this church?”

  He nodded. “I’ve gone almost every Sunday since the day I was born.”

  She arched a brow. “Really? You?”

  He leaned in again, close enough to see the flecks of gold in her eyes, the soft chestnut wave brushing against her cheek. And close enough to once again, be mesmerized by her perfume. “I told you, I’m not as bad as you think.”

  She raised her gaze to his, and that smile returned. “You don’t know what I think about you, Mr. Knight.”

  He reached up and trailed a finger down her cheek, whisking away that errant hair before lowering his hand. She inhaled, exhaled, watching him. No, he didn’t know what she thought about him. But damn, he wanted to know.

  Was it just because she was trying so hard not to like him? Or because he was tired of being seen as the evil corporate raider, painted with the same brush as his father?

  Jack just wanted time before he probed deeper, to find out where Marnie’s animosity lay. Give her a chance to get to know this Jack Knight, the one who no longer did his father’s bidding. Then, when the time was right, he’d broach the subject of the past. Because right now he wanted her. Damn, did he want her.

  “Considering how much we have in common, Marnie,” he said, “I think you should call me by my first name. Don’t you?”

  “And what do we have in common?”

  “Besides an appreciation for good architecture, and a competitive streak on the treadmill, there’s the fact that our parents are dating.”

  She laughed. “In my world, that’s not something in common. Heck, that wouldn’t even be enough to invite you to a mixer, Mr. Knight.”

  Damn. Every time he thought they were growing closer, that she was giving him a chance, she retreated, threw up a wall. They started walking again, circling past the church, then turning down another tree-lined street. They walked at an easy pace, no hurry to their step. How long had it been since he’d done that? Taken a walk, with no real hurry to his journey? Even though he had a thousand things to do, at least a dozen phone calls to return and countless emails waiting for his attention, he kept walking. Something about today, or about Marnie, made him want to linger rather than rush back to the office. Right now, he couldn’t tell if that was a good or bad thing.

  “So how does it work?” he asked.

  They passed under a leafy maple tree, the branches hanging so low, they whispered across their heads. “What? Matchmaking?” she said.

  He nodded. “Do you use some kind of algorithm or something? A computer program?”

  “No.” She laughed. “Most of it’s instinct. We do log pertinent client and potential match information into the computer, just so it’s easier to develop a list of bachelors or bachelorettes for a mixer, but when it comes to picking the best possible matches, it’s all in here.” She pressed a hand to her chest.

  He jerked his gaze up and away from the enticing swell of her breast. He was having a conversation here, not indulging in a fantasy. Except every time he looked at her, his thoughts derailed. Especially when she smiled like she did, or laughed that lyrical laugh of hers. “Sounds sort of like buying a business. Instinctually, I know which ones will be the best choice, and which aren’t going to make it, no matter how much of a cash infusion I give it.”

  Her expression hardened. “Yeah, I bet it’s exactly like that. All guts. No logic.” She cast her glance to the right and left, away from him. The warm and bubbly moments between them evaporated, and a wall of ice dropped into her voice. “So, where’s this coffee shop?”

  Her reaction sealed his suspicions. She’d been burned, either by Knight or someone like him. But most likely his company. Guilt churned in his stomach.

  “One more block,” he said, trying to redirect the conversation. “Close enough to walk there after church, which is part of what makes the location so ideal.”

  The wall remained, however. Silence descended on them, an uncomfortable, tense hole in the conversation. They reached the corner where the coffee shop sat, a bright burst amidst the brick and white of the neighborhood.

  The door to the Java Depot was propped open, and the rich scent of brewed coffee wafted outside, luring customers in with its siren call of caffeine. Several couples sat at umbrella-covered wrought iron tables, while a trio of kids played on the small playground set up beside the shop’s deck. The non-lucrative use of a good chunk of the cafe’s land had been a risky move, but one that had paid off, given the number of kids and families that visited this space on a regular basis. The sound system played contemporary jazz and alternative music, lots of it by local artists who often performed on the outdoor patio.

  “Cute place,” Marnie said. “I never even knew it existed.”

  “One of those great hidden secrets in Boston.” He grinned. “Though the new owner is determined to get the word out via advertising and social media.”

  Marnie looked around, her intelligent gaze assessing the location and décor. “I like how it’s so community oriented, with the local art displays, and the playground for kids. It’s almost like being at home.”

  The words warmed him. He so rarely saw the reaction to his work, the money he invested, the counsel he gave. Too often, he’d seen the effects of the businessman he used to be—the shuttered shops, the For Sale signs, the people filing unemployment. But the Java Depot was a success story, one of many, he hoped. Appreciation and seeing others’ success was a far greater reward than any increase in his own bottom line.

  “That was the idea. A neighborhood coffee shop should feel like an ingrained part of the neighborhood and reflect the owner’s personality. This one does both.” He waved her ahead of him, then stepped inside and paused while his eyes adjusted to the dim
interior.

  “Jack!” Dorothy, a platinum blond buxom woman in her fifties who had been behind the counter of the Java Depot for nearly two years, sent him a wave. She gave him a broad, friendly smile, as if she was greeting a long lost family member. Considering how long he’d known Dot, she practically was family. “I brewed some of your favorite blend today. Let me get you a cup.”

  “Thanks, Dot. And I’ll need a...” He glanced at Marnie.

  “Whatever you’re having. But with the girly touch of some cream and sugar.”

  “A second one. Regular, please.”

  “You got it,” Dot said. A few seconds later, she passed two steaming mugs of coffee across the counter. “Got fresh baked peanut butter cookies, too.” Before he could respond, she laid two cookies on a plate and slid those over, too, giving Jack a wink.

  “You are bad for my diet, Dot.” He grinned.

  “You work it off in smiles, you charmer, you.” She chuckled, then turned to Marnie. “Half my waitstaff trips over themselves to serve him. There’s going to be a lot of envious eyes on you, my girl, because you’ve snagged Mr. Eligible here.”

  “Oh, I’m not his girlfriend,” Marnie said. Fast. So fast, a man could take it personally.

  “Well, you’re missing out on a hell of a catch,” Dot said, then gave Jack a wink. “Why this man is the whole reason I’m in business. Without Jack, there wouldn’t be a Java Depot here. He helped me out, encouraged me, gave me great advice, and a big old nudge when I needed one most. Always has, and I suspect even if I tell him not to, he always will.” Dot’s light blue eyes softened when she looked over at Jack. “It’s good to have you in my corner, Jack.”

  He shifted his weight, uncomfortable under Dot’s grateful words. It was what he worked for, but there were days when praise for doing the right thing felt like wearing the wrong shoes. Maybe someday he’d get used to it.

  “I needed a place to get my coffee,” he said. “And my mom is addicted to your cookies, so if you went out of business and stopped shipping them down to her in Florida, she’d go into serious withdrawal, and I’d have hell to pay.”

  “Yeah, that’s why you helped me out,” Dot said with a little snort of disbelief. “Purely selfish reasons.”

  Jack grinned and put up his hands. “That’s me.”

  Dot shook her head, then gestured toward Marnie. “He’s a keeper, I’m telling you. Though you might have to beat off half the women in Boston to get him. And you—” she wagged a finger at Jack “—you need to use some of that legendary Knight charm, and win her over.” Dot chuckled, then headed to the other end of the counter to help another customer.

  “Legendary charm?” Marnie asked. She reached past him to pick up her mug of coffee, and give him a teasing grin. “Legendary like the Loch Ness Monster and Bigfoot?”

  “Exactly.” He chuckled, then picked up the second mug and the cookies and followed her to an outdoor table where Christmas lights lit the undersides of the umbrellas over the tables. A soft breeze rippled the bright blue umbrella, and toyed with the ends of Marnie’s hair. His fingers ached to do the same.

  He’d thought he didn’t want to date anyone. That he didn’t have room in his life for a relationship. A week ago, he would have sworn up and down that he had no interest in dating anyone on a long-term basis. That he, of all people, shouldn’t try to create ties.

  Then he met Marnie.

  Maybe it was the way she ran hot, then cold. Maybe it was the way she kept him at a distance, like a book he couldn’t read in the library. Or maybe it was that none of his “legendary charm” worked on her. Was it about the challenge of wanting what he couldn’t have? Or something more?

  Either way, he reminded himself, he was his father’s son. The offspring of a womanizer who destroyed companies, ruined lives, and broke hearts. Jack had been like that, too, for too long. He’d managed to change his approach to business, but when it came down to making a commitment, would he run like his father had or stick around? Would he shut out the people he cared for, turn his back on them?

  Marnie picked up one of the cookies, and took a bite. A smattering of crumbs lingered on her lips, and it took everything in his power not to kiss her. Then the family beside them got up and left, leaving him and Marnie alone on the patio. She reached for her coffee, and before he could think twice, he leaned forward, closing the distance between them to mere inches. Desire thundered in his veins, pounded in his brain. All he wanted right now was her, that sweet goodness, her tempting smile. To hell with later; Jack wanted now. “You have a crumb right—”

  And he kissed her. To hell with staying away, to hell with making smart decisions, to hell with everything but this moment.

  A gentle kiss, more of a whisper against her lips. She froze for a second, then shifted closer to him, one hand reaching to cup his cheek, her fingers dancing against his skin. She deepened the kiss, her delicate tongue slipping in to tango with his. Holy cow. A hot, insistent need ignited in his veins, and it took near every ounce of his strength to pull back instead of taking her on the table in front of the whole damned neighborhood.

  “Uh, I think I got it,” he said. Truth was, right now he couldn’t think or see straight enough to tell if she was covered in crumbs.

  Her fingers went to her mouth, lingered a moment, then she lowered her hand. Her cheeks flushed a deep pink and she let out a soft curse. “That...that wasn’t a good idea. At all. I have to go.” She got to her feet, leaving the half-eaten cookie on the plate. “Thanks for the coffee.”

  “Wait, Marnie—”

  “Jack, stay out of my life. You’ve done enough damage already.”

  Then she turned and left. Jack leaned back in his chair and watched her go, bemused and befuddled. A woman who kissed him back yet claimed not to be interested in him. She was a puzzle, that was for sure. What had she meant by “you’ve done enough damage already”?

  A sinking feeling told him she’d meant more than that kiss. His past had reared its ugly head again. Somewhere, Marnie was connected to the mistakes he’d made years before. He vowed to dig deeper into the files in his office, and find the connection.

  Would it always be this way? Would he find his regrets confronting him every time he tried to do the right thing?

  Jack watched Marnie hail a cab, get inside the yellow taxi and disappear into the congested streets. Somehow, he needed to find a way to do what he had done before. Mitigate the damage. And find a solution that left everyone happy.

  CHAPTER FOUR

  JACK LOGGED A hard six miles on the treadmill, but it wasn’t enough. He could have run a marathon and it wouldn’t have been enough to quiet the demons in his head. He’d tried, Lord knew he’d tried, over the years.

  By the time he climbed off the machine, he was drenched in sweat, but his mind still raced with thoughts of Marnie Franklin. Hell, half the reason he’d come to the gym today was because he’d hoped to bump into her.

  After their walk to the coffee shop, he’d gone to the office and pulled out Top Notch Printing’s file, from the piles stacked on the credenza behind his desk. So many people’s lives ruined, so many businesses shuttered, their contents sold like trinkets at a garage sale.

  He’d dug through Tom’s file, looking for the notes he’d made all those years ago.

  Owner: Tom Franklin, married to wife Helen. Three daughters. Calls them Daisy, Kitty and Chatterbug.

  Nicknames. That’s why Jack hadn’t made the connection when he’d met Marnie. He’d never known Tom’s daughters’ real names, never spent enough time with the man to get that personal.

  Jack dropped onto a bench outside the gym and put his head in his hands. He could still see Tom’s face. Bright, hopeful, trusting. Believing every word Jack and his father said.

  Jack had tried to undo the damage, but by then it had been too late.
Too damned late.

  He sighed and got to his feet. Instead of taking the left toward the office, he took a right and went back home.

  “I thought you just left. What are you doing home so soon?” his stepfather asked when Jack stepped into the apartment.

  “I’m off to a slow start today.” Because his mind was far from work. Had been ever since Marnie’s cab had dented his sports car. That alone was a sign he was in too deep. Then why kiss her? Why go to the gym on the off chance she’d be there, too? Why couldn’t he just forget her? Was it all about trying to make up for the past? Or more?

  “Maybe I need some protein or something. You want to go grab some breakfast before I head into the office? Unless you already ate.”

  “Even if I did, I’ll eat again.” Dan chuckled, and grabbed a light jacket off the back of the kitchen chair. “That’s the beauty of retirement. No schedule. Lunch can come five minutes after breakfast.”

  They headed out into the bright sunshine and around the corner to Hector’s cozy little deli. Its glass windows looked out onto two streets, while inside, business bustled along, in keeping with the city’s busy pace. Hector greeted them as they walked in with a boisterous hello and a hearty wave. A gregarious guy given to playing mariachi music just because, Hector was a colorful and exuberant addition to the area. His incredible sandwiches drew people far and wide for their unique taste combinations and home-baked breads.

  Dan and Jack ordered, then snagged a couple of bar stools at the window counter, and unwrapped their sandwiches. “So, what do you think of Helen?” Dan asked.

  Dan and Helen had been on several dates over the last week. Dan had even invited her to dinner at Jack’s apartment—and wisely ordered takeout instead of trying to cook. They’d gone to a Red Sox game, played Bingo at a local church and taken several long walks through the neighborhood. After every date, Dan’s smile grew broader, his step lighter, like a man falling in love.