by Lila Monroe
“Don’t worry about me. It’s just a matter of finding the time.” Despite what Jack said, it’s not my deal-breakers holding me back. These days, I’m basically in a relationship with my work. “Well, if you need any help in that department, you know I’d love to return the favor,” Barb says, patting my arm. She’s told me she was quite the matchmaker—in the traditional way—when she was younger. “I’ve still got the knack here and there. No shortage of nice young men around if you know where to look.”
I should probably be glad she doesn’t have any single sons to throw at me. “Thank you, Barb,” I say. “I’ll definitely let you know.”
Back upstairs, I’ve only just sat down at my computer when a groan carries through the wall. I cringe. Ah. Tessa has Drippy Doug over. And from the sound of that heavy breathing, he’s having a very good time, at least.
I turn up my music to drown out the panting, but it’s still loud enough that when my phone rings, I head for the fire escape. The only way to escape Drippy Doug’s enthusiasm.
It’s my brother. “Hey!” I say, sitting down on the rickety metal platform. “How’s life in Philly?”
“Pretty good,” Drew says. “I’m working with a new singer, recording some tracks for her album. What about you? Did you ever land that investor you were chasing?”
I think of falling into Jack’s pool a few days back. “Kind of. But I can pull it together.”
“You know, if you need me to kick you some cash—”
“I know,” I say quickly. “I’ve got this, Drew. No need for big brother to swoop in and save the day. As much as I do appreciate the offer.”
“Well, as long as you remember it’s there,” Drew says, sounding unruffled.
“How’s it going with Maggie? Still think you made the right choice?”
Drew chuckles at my teasing. He and my childhood BFF are so obviously right for each other, but it took them some time to figure that out. Just because he’s older than me doesn’t mean he’s always wiser. “Haven’t doubted it for a second. We’re actually … Since she’s working in the building all the time, and she hasn’t been able to find a decent apartment … we’re talking about her moving in with me.”
“That’s a big step! Making it almost official. Congrats.” I’m grinning, but at the same time I can’t help feeling a pang.
Seeing Drew and Maggie together didn’t just tell me that they were awesome together. It also reminded me of the kind of relationship I wish I could have. Being totally into each other, totally in sync—and able to talk through any problems, eventually at least. Really being partners.
It’s just so hard to find that when you’re going in blind. Our parents thought they were meant to be, but I could see the distance growing between them even when I was a kid. They didn’t get divorced until I was in college, and by then I was relieved for them. They liked each other fine. They were just missing that deeper connection. Passion, I guess, although please don’t ask me to think about my parents that way.
Of course, passion by itself isn’t any better. I’m not going to say anyone should turn down awesome sex, but great orgasms can be blinding in their own way. Take my first love—and heartbreak—Cam, a grunge-hot slacker musician I met in college. Sexy as hell, check. Couldn’t keep our hands off each other in the bedroom, check. Everywhere outside the bedroom? It took a whole lot of suspicious texts and evasive answers and heartache before it sunk in that he liked to spread that passion around. Then came Jamie, bookish and sincere. We split when he took a job on the West Coast after graduating … and I plunged headlong into a rebound relationship with Andreas, the sexy bartender down the street. It’s been like that ever since, and looking back, it’s clear I have a pattern: either the hottie heartbreaker who rocks my world, then breaks my heart, or the intellectual who connects with my brains and ambition, but winds up putting his job first.
It’s a shame I wasn’t a bio-chem major, so I could Dr. Frankenstein myself the perfect combination. Minus the cheating, of course.
Drew and I shoot the breeze a little more, and I promise to come visit soon. As I’m hanging up, Tessa’s window slides open. She clambers out onto the fire escape down from me and sits, looking out at the view—of a cinderblock wall.
“Finished?” I call over.
She startles seeing me, then blushes. “Sorry.”
“Thin walls.” I shrug. “Tell me at least you had a good time.”
She lowers her eyes. “Well, he did. But don’t get me wrong! He totally tried. Anyway, he had to rush off, and I think we’d better get moving too.”
“We—oh, crap!” We’ve got tickets to Jill’s new play, and it’s almost show time. I scramble to my feet. “I’ll meet you in the hall in five.”
7
McKenna
“I can’t take it anymore!” Jill’s co-star bellows. In case we couldn’t tell he’s supposed to be angry, the director has shone a stark red spotlight on him. Then the guy rips open his shirt, buttons popping. A surge of music that would have made sense in the climax of a Hitchcock film blares.
Subtle, this production is not.
Tessa and I exchange a glance. She clamps her mouth shut, and I press my hand to my lips. This is a Big Dramatic Moment. We would be very bad friends if we laughed. But after two hours of shouting, emotion-colored spotlights, and scenery-chewing, I think we deserve medals for suppressing our giggles.
Thankfully, he finishes his rant, falls to the ground, groans through his death scene, and finally, the lights go up. The actors hustle to the front of the stage for their bows, the dramatic music still lurching along through the speakers. Someone throws a bouquet of tulips on stage. The flowers look as if they’ve been stepped on. It almost seems fitting. Maybe that’s not a fan but part of the production?
Tessa and I scoot out of our row and hurry into the theater’s cramped lobby. “Well, that was very … very,” Tessa manages.
“Yep,” I agree, snorting with laughter. “Incredibly very.”
We’ve got our giggles under control by the time Jill hustles out to meet us. Her neck is still faintly blue from the copious amounts of paint her character’s rival splashed on her—and half the stage. She rubs at it with the side of her hand.
“Here,” Tessa says, offering the gauzy scarf she’s wearing.
“Oh my God,” Jill says. “Thank you. Let’s go get those drinks. I need at least ten.”
We head to a place several blocks from the theater, where no one else from the play is likely to turn up. Maybe so that she doesn’t have to feel bad when she slumps over the bar counter the second we’ve placed our orders.
“I’m so sorry, guys. I know it’s awful. It sounded like it could almost be good when we were first rehearsing, but the director just kept adding this thing, and that thing, and …” She buries her face in her hands.
“It wasn’t that bad,” Tessa says diplomatically. “I mean, it definitely was memorable, and … and you did a great job with the material.” Horrible as that material was, neither of us says.
Jill shakes her head without removing it from her hands. “Nope. I’ve hit the bottom of the barrel. At some point I’m going to have to just quit and finally face reality.”
“Hey!” I protest. “You’ve gotten really close with some big productions. Callbacks, great feedback from casting directors. You’ve got to get a real break soon.”
“That’s what I’ve been telling myself for ten years straight,” Jill says, looking defeated. “But close doesn’t cut it, you know?”
“You’re so good,” Tessa insists. “I don’t know what’s wrong with people. But you definitely shouldn’t let it go.”
The bartender sets down our drinks, and Jill pushes herself upright. “Okay. Enough moping. Let’s talk about something more enjoyable. Like, say … Jack Callahan.” She raises her eyebrows at me as she swirls her martini in its glass. “Now that you’ve spent some more time with him, tell us all about the man, the myth, the legend.”
I sigh. “He’s an arrogant playboy, what more is there to say?”
“Come on, he’s so successful, he can’t be that bad.”
“Oh, he is,” I say. “He seems to think he can get away with anything just by being hot and charming. He was getting a suit measured during out meeting! He’s supposed to be giving the app a fair shot, but I’m not sure if he’s just playing games with me.”
“Hmm.” Jill gives a wicked grin. “So you got to see him in his underwear? Boxers or briefs? Inquiring minds absolutely need to know.”
“Briefs,” I say automatically as the memory of Jack in all his suntanned, muscular glory pops into my head.
“I’m thinking from the way you just blushed that he must fill out those briefs very nicely,” Tessa says, grinning.
“What? No!” I blurt. “I mean, yes, he’s fit and all, but—”
“Fit and hot and charming, so far you’ve said.” Jill waggles her olive stick at me. “I think maybe you wouldn’t mind getting to play certain kinds of games with him.”
I hold up my hands. “You asked me to describe him. Those are accurate words. That doesn’t mean I’m charmed, or whatever.”
Okay, maybe I’m a tiny bit curious what it’d be like to actually touch that body—no, no way, not going there. “And even if I was, I would never do anything. Hooking up with an investor? Very, very bad idea. Bad for the business, bad for my reputation if I want any guy in the industry to take me seriously …”
“Fair point,” Jill says with a nod. “But I’m not going to let this go unless you admit you want to bang him.”
“This is going to be a very boring conversation then,” I stick my tongue out at her. “Because the only banging I want to do is hit him over the head with my tablet.” The bar is starting to fill up around us. I grab my glass. “Let’s get a table before they’re all gone.”
“Oh, don’t think you’re ducking out that easy.” Tessa nudges me with her elbow. “There’s nothing wrong with it. We all have desires.”
I wrinkle my nose at her. “I promise you, that is the last thing in the entire world I ‘desire.’ ”
I hop off my stool, turn around—and find myself face to face with Mr. Jack Callahan himself. And apparently I was talking a little too loudly, because he cocks his head at me and grins.
“Well, hello, Ms. Delaney. Now I’m very curious to find out exactly what you find so undesirable.”
Jill claps her hand over her mouth to smother a giggle. Badly.
I flush. He wouldn’t be asking that if he’d heard enough earlier to realize I was talking about him, right? Or is he just stringing me along? I can’t tell. I fumble for a response that sounds halfway acceptable. “I, uh— Blue cheese. I mean, eating mold? That’s really the grossest thing ever.”
From Jack’s smirk, he can tell I’m covering something up. But hopefully not what. “Well,” he starts, like he’s going to needle me again, and the guy at his side comes to my rescue.
“Come on, Callahan,” he says, slapping Jack on the shoulder. He reminds me right away of a golden retriever, all earnest blonde enthusiasm. “You obviously know this lovely woman. Aren’t you going to introduce your pals?” He leans toward me with conspiratorial whisper. “Don’t tell my mother’s personal chef, but I detest blue cheese too.”
Jack gives his friend a narrow look, but he sounds friendly enough when he says, “This is McKenna Delaney, who’s been pitching me on an app her company is developing. McKenna, Sebastian, former school chum, presently enjoying making everyone’s business his own. And his wife Katie, who hopefully isn’t bothered by him calling other women lovely.”
The slim brunette at Sebastian’s arm shrugs and grins at me. “As long as he doesn’t try to run off with you, I’m not too worried.”
“No chance of that,” Sebastian says, giving her a squeeze. He bobs his head at me. “Pleasure to meet you, McKenna. Please call me Seb. I’m always curious to hear about these ventures Jack gets himself swept up in. Should we get a table all together?”
Oh, no. That sounds like an epically bad idea. I open my mouth to say so in more polite terms, but Jill jumps in first. “That would be wonderful.” She holds out her hand for shaking. “I’m Jill, and this is Tessa. We’re very curious to hear about the investor side of things too.”
Curious to hear about this specific investor, is more like it. I make a face at her behind the guys’ backs as Seb leads the way to a large table near the back. She spreads her hands innocently. “What?” she mouths.
“It could be good,” Tessa murmurs at my other side. “You wanted to get a better sense of what he’s into. Maybe he’ll loosen up more around his friends.”
I drag in a breath. Right. That’s a good point. “Okay,” I say. “But please remember I’m trying to impress this guy. In a business way, not a banging way.”
Of course, the first thing that Seb asks the moment we all sit down is, “So what’s this app you guys are working on?”
“McKenna thinks she’s found a way to program love,” Jack says. “I’m still waiting to be convinced.”
“It’s not programming feelings,” I say quickly. “The app uses scientifically proven methods to figure out how likely two people are to fall in love. And stay in love, which is really the most important part. Whether that actually happens is up to the people, of course.”
“So you admit your formula isn’t perfect?” Jack teases.
I glare. “There’s no way of predicting human behavior or emotions with complete accuracy. We’re too complicated for that. But you can get a hell of a lot closer to a guarantee than swiping on the next pretty face to cross your screen.”
“Who says she’s on a screen?” Jack gives me a smile that’s so smoldering, I have to gulp my water glass.
Does he have to be so damn handsome?
“I don’t know, Jack,” Seb says. “I don’t seem to remember a whole lot of ‘staying in love’ in your romantic adventures.”
Jack shrugs easily. “I’ll get there. And I’m having a lot of fun along the way. I have no complaints.”
“How do you know McKenna’s way isn’t even more fun?” Katie says. She raises her glass to me. “It sounds like an excellent idea. If I wasn’t happily hitched, I’d try it.”
“That’s exactly how I’m going to decide whether to invest,” Jack says. “I’ve been promised I’ll meet my ‘perfect match’ shortly.” He looks at me with amusement. “I’m very much looking forward to finding out how satisfying you can make that experience.”
Somehow he makes it sound totally dirty. “As I hope you know,” I say dryly, “satisfaction is a lot more likely if both people are trying to make it a good time.” I turn to Seb. “Getting information out of Jack has been like pulling teeth. Maybe you can give me a better idea of what those ‘romantic adventures’ have been like.”
Seb grins. “Oh, I’ve got plenty of stories. Where do I even start?”
“I think that’s my cue to excuse myself.” Jack stands up. “Let me know when you’re done raking me over the coals.”
“That sounded like permission.” Jill grins, leaning forward. “I know I’m all ears.”
Jack strolls over to the bar, and I turn back to Seb and Katie. “So? He’s been kind of cagey about his past relationships, but I know there has to be something.”
“I don’t know,” Seb says. “He always plays it pretty cool. Can’t say I’ve ever seen him broken-hearted. If you can get him really stuck on someone for the long term, that’ll be a real accomplishment, I can tell you.”
“He definitely doesn’t like clingy,” Katie says. “As soon as a woman starts texting him at all hours or hanging on his arm non-stop, we never see her again.”
But he still wants someone who can drop everything and jet off with him for work. Huh. I guess he wants things on his terms.
Tessa looks toward the bar. “You may get to observe the subject in the wild. That’s a man in pick-up mode if I ever saw one.”
I tur
n in my chair. Jack is at the end of the bar, chatting up a gorgeous woman whose long black waves are as shiny as her black, sparkly dress. He leans a little closer with that rakish grin of his. Trails a casual finger down the side of her arm. The woman slips a little closer, looking at him through her eyelashes. He says something else, and she laughs. Then he offers her his arm. She takes his elbow. And there they go to the door, just like that.
Seb lets out a low whistle. “The man does move fast.”
Jack glances back at us just before he and his impromptu date head out the door. He gives a little wave. I’m pretty sure his gaze is focused mostly on me. His smirk says, See. I don’t need your app to score the hottest woman in the room.
My fingers curl into my palms as I watch his retreating back. Maybe all he wants to do right now is score hot chicks. But I’m going to find him his soulmate, and a month from now he’ll be thanking me for putting up with all his crap.
Thanking me, and writing a massive check.
8
McKenna
Just a couple of days later, I go to meet Jack at his offices at Maverick Capital. I have his matches ready, but something tells me if I leave him to his own devices, none of these dates will ever happen. He’s going to need hand-holding the whole way through the process. Or, to be more exact, ass-kicking.
His assistant is seated out front, and she playfully covers her laptop when I get off the elevator. “Do I need to call security?” she asks, clearly joking.
I wince. “I’m sorry if you got into trouble for my snooping.”
She laughs. “Are you kidding? I’m impressed. Once we had a guy show up posing as a sing-o-gram to get face time with him, but I like your way better. I’m Hallie, by the way.”
“McKenna,” I say, liking her even more.
“You can go right in.” She waves me past, into the corner office.
I step inside. Jack is at the desk, squinting at his computer, so I take a moment to look around. It’s just as clean and modern as the rest of the offices out front, with exposed brick walls and a skylight that lets in soft sunlight. There’s a packed bookcase in the corner, which surprises me. Maybe he gives book-learning a little more respect than he’s suggested. Then I take a look up close and find rows of untouched first editions, all clothbound, and probably sold by the yard by some interior designer. Typical. Just once, I’d like to find someone with books they actually read on their shelves, like well-worn thrillers, or the entire catalog of John Grisham.