The Husband Maker Boxed Set

by White, Karey

  “I come bearing more than cookies. I have news.”

  I leaned forward in my chair. “Spill it.”

  “Well, I’ve made a decision. About my residency. I’m headed to New York.”

  “Oh.” He might as well have hit me in the chest with a bowling ball. Of course, I’d known New York was one of his options, but I’d never envisioned him actually leaving. Not with Alameda so close and also an option. There were so many reasons to stay. “Wow. That’s great,” I tried to sound like I meant it. “What made you choose New York?”

  “A few things. It’d be nice to see another part of the world. I don’t have anything tying me down yet. And... I don’t know.” Something wasn’t quite right. There was something he wasn’t telling me.

  “What about Wyatt?”

  “What about her?”

  “I thought you two were getting along.”

  “She’s great. But I don’t love her.”

  “Maybe you could. If you stayed, I mean.”

  Angus sighed and sat up in his seat. “Wyatt and I are good friends. We like to hang out together. But that’s all.”

  “I can tell she likes you. Maybe—“

  “Don’t Chuck. Let’s please not analyze me and Wyatt.”

  “Okay. I’m sorry.” I’d obviously touched a nerve. “I guess I just wanted you to take the Alameda position.”

  “Why?”

  “Because New York’s a long ways away, and I’ll miss you.”

  Angus leaned forward, his elbows on his knees. He shook his head. “Charlotte?” He was upset. He hadn’t called me Charlotte since high school.

  He’d been helping me with calculus. He’d gone through an entire problem, trying to explain how to do it. When he’d gotten the answer, he looked up and found me writing the word “calculus” in a flowery script. “What are you doing, Charlotte?” he’d said.

  “Sorry, I don’t get calculus,” I’d said.

  “And you never will if you don’t try.” He’d closed his book and walked to the door. “Let me know when you actually care enough to try.”

  The next day I’d apologized for my lack of focus, and he’d helped me study. Desperate to show him I was truly sorry, I’d concentrated on everything he’d shown me. I got an A on that test—my first calculus A of the year.

  But why was he upset now? What had I done? “Is something wrong?” I asked. Angus dropped back in his chair and ran his hand over his face. “Have I done something wrong?” When he didn’t immediately answer, I wondered if he’d heard me.

  “No, you haven’t done anything wrong. I’ll miss you too. I’ll miss you and Will and, well, all of you. But it’s time for me to try something new.”

  “Are you excited?” He’d worked so hard. I wanted him to be happy about what he was doing next, but right now, he just seemed angry. Angry and frustrated and... sad.

  “Sure. New York looks great.”

  “Maybe we can come visit you.”

  “Yeah. That’d be fun.”

  “I’m sorry I’ve been such a horrible friend. I was so caught up in everything that happened this weekend, I didn’t even ask you about your residency.”

  “That’s okay. You had a lot on your mind.”

  “That’s not an excuse for being a bad friend. You’ve had a lot on your mind, too, and you checked on me last night.”

  Angus shrugged. “I’d better go.” He looked tired as he pulled himself out of the chair. I hurried over to his side of the desk.

  “Want another cookie?”

  “Nah. Those were for you.”

  “Thanks. They’re delicious.” I suddenly felt the urge to hug Angus. I put my arms around his waist and hugged him close. At first he didn’t respond, and I felt silly and awkward. Then his arms came around me, and his body relaxed into mine.

  This was unusual. We never spontaneously hugged each other. Sure, there were the little hugs at family birthdays, but the only times we hugged each other were when we were going for therapy. Ah, therapy. “Are you and Wyatt still dating?”

  “Yeah. We still hang out.”

  “So you’re not in need of any therapy?”

  I felt Angus’s breath in my hair when he laughed. “I probably always need therapy. But that kind of therapy? Not yet.”

  “Well, let me know,” I said. I felt a little sad for Angus and Wyatt. They seemed like a perfect match.

  That night we ate at The Platinum Spoon. Kyle was a little distracted, but when I asked him if something was wrong, he shook his head and stayed attentive the rest of the evening. At least until the ride home. He’d barely said a word since we’d left the restaurant.

  “Are you sure nothing’s wrong? You look worried.”

  “I’m not worried, just frustrated.”

  “About what?” I turned in my seat to face him.

  “Devon called. They’ve arranged for us to accidentally meet Frank Stapley and his fiancé tomorrow night at dinner.”

  “Accidentally?”

  “Yeah. This is the part of politics I hate.”

  “Who’s Frank Stapley?”

  Kyle laughed. “I guess it’s a good thing we’re talking about this.”

  “Should I know him?”

  “According to me, no. According to Devon and Polly, you probably should. He’s kinda high society San Francisco. Lots of money. Always on the society pages. Until he got engaged, we were both on the ‘most eligible bachelor’ list.”

  Now it was my turn to laugh. “There’s a list?”

  “It was in San Francisco Today magazine.”

  “Who was ranked higher?” I asked, playing with the hair on the back of his neck.

  “Who do you think?” Kyle tried to sound indignant, but his smile gave him away.

  “You, of course.”

  “Of course.”

  “Ooh, am I a lucky girl or what?”

  “Anyway, we’re supposed to run into Frank and his fiancé and then end up eating dinner together. I’m sure it will end up in some paper or magazine.”

  “What does one wear to have dinner with not one, but two of San Francisco’s most eligible bachelors?”

  “You always look great. I’m not worried. I just hate all this planning and orchestrating. It feels fake.”

  “That’s because it is fake.”

  Kyle looked surprised.

  “I don’t mean you’re fake,” I quickly said. “I mean this meeting is fake.”

  Kyle didn’t respond, and we rode in silence for a few minutes.

  “Are you worried about this because of me?”

  Kyle still didn’t respond.

  “Kyle? Are you worried about me?”

  He sighed. “I’m always worried about you.”

  “You think I’m going to blow it? Say something stupid?”

  “No, Charlotte. I don’t think you’re going to blow it. It’s just that this is all new to you, and I didn’t want you to have to deal with it yet. I wanted to be able to break you in and have you get used to this crazy life slowly. I don’t want you to feel all this pressure.”

  Now it was my turn to think. He said he wasn’t worried about me blowing it, but I already had. Sort of. I hadn’t been careful enough, and I’d given a political enemy enough to write an unflattering article. How could he not be a little afraid I’d do something wrong and embarrass him and his family?

  “I’ll be careful,” I said. “I’ll watch what I say.”

  Kyle gave me a half smile. “I’m sorry for all of this. I’m sorry I want to take Dad’s spot. I’m sorry the media is awful. And I’m sorry you’re getting thrown into it all without a safety net.” Kyle parked the car.

  Something was troubling me, but changing it from a fleeting thought, almost a feeling, into words was difficult. It wasn’t until I was washing my face that it came to me. I didn’t want to do any of this without a safety net. If we were going to move forward, shouldn’t we be the safety net for each other? If we were falling for each other, didn’t we need t
o be there to catch each other? No matter what happened?

  We ate at Posh, a French and Asian fusion restaurant that was all about pretense. I’d never been inside a place that tried so hard to make such a literal statement. Gold-leafed French provincial furniture mixed with Asian silkscreened art in black lacquered frames seemed at odds with each other. I hoped the food fused the two styles better than the décor.

  A harp played slightly dissonant music in the background. Sconces with gold veining lined the walls.

  “Kyle? Is that you?”

  Great. Was this Frank?

  “Frank?” Kyle said. Yep, it was Frank.

  “I thought that was you.” Frank was nearly shouting. Most of the faces that lined the entryway benches waiting for tables were now trained on us. I towered several inches over Frank, but he definitely had me on bulk. His gray fitted shirt stretched over his wide shoulders and redwood-sized biceps. His neck was wider than his head. These looked like enhanced gym muscles, not the kind that come from athletics. Even his fingers looked beefy. His gelled hair was slicked back, mafia style. He either traveled regularly to tropical locations or frequented the Tan-Fastic salon because he was a shade that doesn’t come naturally in San Francisco’s often rainy climate.

  “How ya doin, man?” Frank bellowed. “I haven’t seen you since, when? Was it that bachelor’s charity auction three years ago?”

  “That was it. It’s good to see you. This is Charlotte.” Kyle’s hand at my back guided me to the center of the conversation.

  “Charlotte, it’s a pleasure,” Frank said. He didn’t give any indication that he was bothered by having to look up at me. I gave him a point for that. He pumped my arm with gusto. “And this is Tiffany.” He put his arms out to a woman who came from farther inside the restaurant. With her five inch heels, she was almost as tall as me, which made her taller than Frank. I grudgingly gave him another point. The sequins on her short, purple dress flashed in the light. I’ve never had a desire to wear a dress of solid sequins, but they certainly made my red flowered dress look plain in comparison.

  “Sorry, I was in the ladies room,” Tiffany said.

  “Tiffany, this is Kyle and Charlotte. Kyle’s also an eligible bachelor.” He lowered his voice. “He was two spots ahead of me on the list, but what do they know, right?” He laughed.

  “It looks like you’ve been on that list for the last time,” Kyle said.

  “I finally found someone worth getting off the list for.” Frank nudged Tiffany. “Show them your ring.”

  Tiffany held out her hand. I was surprised she had the strength to hold up her arm. The pink diamond in the center had to be four carats, and that wasn’t even counting the row of diamonds surrounding it.

  “Wow. That’s beautiful,” I said. “Congratulations.”

  “You sure you know what you’re getting into with this guy?” Kyle asked. Was it my imagination, or was he talking a little louder than usual?

  “I’m sure.” Tiffany snuggled down into Frank’s shoulder.

  “You should join us for dinner,” Kyle said.

  “Why not?” said Frank.

  “I’ll see if they can adjust our reservation.”

  Kyle stepped over to the hostess stand, and she quickly nodded. When she didn’t make any changes to her list, it occurred to me the reservation might have already been made for four.

  “Can they seat us together?” Frank asked.

  “She said it wasn’t a problem,” Kyle said.

  It was only a few minutes until the hostess called our names and took us to a table in the middle of the restaurant. I looked around the room at the quiet tables set against the walls and felt jealous of the people sitting in all those less conspicuous places.

  Frank and Tiffany were friendly, pleasant, and loud, which is probably what Devon had hoped for. We definitely demanded attention. The men talked sports and politics while Tiffany talked about wedding plans and movies she’d seen recently. I was happy to let her take the lead. I didn’t want to say the wrong thing.

  “I just had my hair colored by Jean Paul over at Zissors.” Tiffany ran her fingers through her dark hair. “We’re doing a trial run for the wedding. To see if we like it, and if it looks good with the bridesmaid dresses and flowers.”

  “It looks pretty. I like the color,” I said.

  “You should totally go to him. He could give your hair some nice highlights and shine. It’d give your face a great lift.”

  “Maybe I will,” I said, though I had no intention of going to anyone but McKayla.

  “If you go, be sure to tell Jean Paul I sent you. Don’t forget, he’s at Zissors. With a Z.”

  I nodded.

  “I adore him. He actually helped me make a final decision on my wedding dress. He has an eye for style. I told him he should do hair part-time and become a personal stylist. Every time I go to him, he makes great suggestions on ways to pump up an outfit. He knows how to add a little sizzle.” Tiffany shimmied a little, and Frank watched her appreciatively.

  “So Jean Paul’s the one I need to thank for the sizzle, huh?” he asked.

  Tiffany kissed Frank on the cheek. “See, Frankie, I told you Jean Paul is worth every penny.” They kissed loudly.

  Kyle slid his seat a little toward the corner so he’d be closer and rested his arm on the back of my chair. I was glad I was here with him.

  “You two make an adorable couple,” Tiffany said.

  “Kyle’s always had good taste in women,” Frank said. “When we did that bachelor auction, the woman I wanted to win me didn’t even bid. She was saving all her money for that guy.” He pointed at Kyle with both hands. “And she got him. Why didn’t anything happen with her? She was a tasty little number.”

  There was nothing to say to this, and even Kyle, who was usually unflappable, shifted in his seat.

  “We went to dinner. Like the auction required.”

  “Nothing else? I could have sworn the sparks were flying that night. I thought she might be a keeper.”

  Kyle looked calm and cool, except for his ears that had turned bright red. “So how did you two meet?” Kyle asked Tiffany.

  “We met at a club.” Tiffany giggled. “We’re just one, big cliché.”

  “A happy cliché,” Frank said.

  I was disappointed when the food arrived. I was hungry, and the plating was more about looking artistic than satiating an appetite. Giant square plates showcased a drizzle of some buttery, French sauce with a single eggroll. When those plates were removed, and the entrée arrived, it was on an oval plate the size of a small sofa. In the center of the plate was a little mound of noodles with a creamy sauce and three strips of braised beef.

  “Can we interest you in some dessert?” the waiter asked.

  “Not if I hope to fit in my wedding dress,” Tiffany said. I found that amusing. If the desserts were proportionate to the rest of the meal, she’d have trouble even tasting it.

  “I’m too smart to eat dessert in front of her.” Frank shook his head.

  And with that, any hopes I had of leaving the restaurant satisfied vanished. Kyle and Frank squabbled about who would pay for dinner. Kyle finally prevailed, and soon we were making our way through the restaurant for the front doors. Several diners stopped eating or talking to watch us walk by. One man stopped Frank long enough to shake hands and ask about a body-building event he was planning to enter. It became clear they knew each other from the gym. Since Kyle and I were behind Frank and Tiffany, we were forced to stand awkwardly between two tables while they talked. I did my best not to make eye contact or look at what the people around us were eating.

  As Frank made protein supplement recommendations, a wave of uneasiness crashed over me. I felt trapped and needed air. I tried to inhale, but my lungs went on lockdown about halfway into the breath and I couldn’t get enough oxygen. I took a few shallow breaths and tried again with no luck.

  “That’s Senator Aldsworth’s son and his girlfriend,” someone whispered
.

  “Do you think he’ll run?” someone else said.

  I didn’t hear the answer. My pulse was pounding in my ears and behind my eyes. It thrummed louder and louder until I no longer knew if Frank was talking about body building or gold mining. The room became a tilt-o-whirl. I tried to focus on Tiffany’s sequined dress, but the sparkles were spinning with the room. Kyle was behind me. I knew because I could feel his hand on my waist.

  Finally, Frank stopped talking and started walking. I took a couple of tentative steps, but I was like a child who’d been twirling on the lawn. It felt like I was at a forty-five degree angle to the floor. My balance had abandoned me, and I reached for the closest table to hold myself up just as my legs buckled.

  “Charlotte?” Kyle said as one of my hands missed the table and instead knocked over a glass of water.

  “I’m so sorry” I held tightly to the edge of the table. “I’m so dizzy.”

  “Is she drunk?” someone asked.

  “I’m sorry,” Kyle said to someone. “Here Charlotte.” I felt his arm tighten around me, and I managed to stand straight. The room was still swirling, so I put my arm around Kyle and leaned into him. He guided me through the rest of the tables and toward the door.

  “Is something wrong?” It was the hostess who had hurried to meet us.

  I put my hand up to my head. “I need some air.”

  “I’ll take her outside,” Kyle said. “I think she’s fine.”

  On the sidewalk, Kyle guided me to the wide windowsill of a closed hearing aid store, and I leaned my head against the wall, trying to get a breath. Tiffany and Frank stood in front of me. Kyle was beside me, holding my hand.

  After a few minutes, Frank and Tiffany stopped dancing in front of my eyes, and I was able to fill my lungs with air. “I’m so sorry. I don’t know what happened. I was so dizzy, and I felt like I was going pass out.”

  “It’s okay. Are you feeling better now?” Kyle had moved beside me and smoothed my head against his side.

  “I’ll be fine.” I tried to stand, but I felt a little shaky and held tightly to Kyle’s hand.

  After an awkward goodbye to Frank and Tiffany, we walked slowly to Kyle’s car.