“The meeting was very helpful. Thank you.” Emily followed Annalise toward the main house. “I’ll be setting something up soon.”
“That’s great.” Annalise tapped on her tablet screen. Did she just check something off of a list? “Now I understand you know Mr. Robbins personally, but he is very protective of his writing time. I would appreciate it if you’d go through me. I have his schedule; he doesn’t deal with minor details.”
Annalise handed Emily a business card. She took it and ran her thumb across the embossment in an effort to calm her annoyance. Minor? The word made her feel small and her reason for being here even smaller. She shook the feeling off. Annalise had been the one to hire her, after all.
Not allowing the slight to distract herself, Emily ticked through possible outing ideas. Whatever she decided on needed to be low-key so she could get a feel for who the new Grant Robbins was and the kind of person he would connect with. She just wasn’t sure what activity would provide that environment. There was the chocolatier in Bentonville that allowed groups to come in for tours, or a class at the pottery shop, but neither felt right.
“I need to make a few calls first.” Emily opened the back door of her car and set her bag inside. “I’ll let you know before I set anything up.”
“Thanks.” Annalise paused as if thinking through a checklist. “If you need to stop by the house for any reason, you’ll need to inform me so I can alert Elton at the security booth.”
With the swanky neighborhood feel, Emily wasn’t surprised. Instead, her interest snagged on the person Annalise named. He’d been decent-looking, if a woman was into a man in uniform—as Hattie seemed to be—and since Emily doubted she would call Luca, maybe the security guard was worth looking into. “Elton seemed nice. What do you know about him?”
A sparkle twinkled in Annalise’s eyes. Hmmm. So she wasn’t as cold and businesslike as she’d seemed. “He’s head of security. You might not always find him at the checkpoint because we have other guards, of course, but yes, he’s worth stopping for.” As if realizing what she’d said, Annalise clamped her lips closed, and a slight blush colored her cheeks.
“He’s easy on the eyes,” Emily agreed, watching for any clue to what Annalise was feeling. Was that an unprofessional slip between women, or was she interested in Elton?
“He’s highly recommended and military trained.” Annalise cleared her throat. “The rest of the security personnel are equally talented. Anyway, I just wanted to let you know so you don’t feel unprepared or get turned away. If you’re not on the list, you might get to know Elton in a way you probably aren’t dreaming about, but as far as I know, he’s free for the taking.”
Emily was willing to take her at her word, and she’d snag him for Hattie. She had to push Martin out of the picture somehow.
Phase one of finding Hattie a man in uniform meant buttering up Elton. When Emily got close, Elton opened the huge iron gates, but she slowed to a stop next to the booth. Elton slid the window open, his face going from polite accommodation to slight annoyance. Was that because she wasn’t driving a Bentley or Maserati or something flashier than her Toyota? But when their eyes locked, his face softened into flirtatious interest.
“It was great to meet you, Elton.” Emily bestowed her best smile on him. “If I’m lucky, this won’t be the last time I come through here.”
She wanted to get a chance to talk to him, to get to know him, but now didn’t feel like the time. She would lay a little groundwork, showing interest and kindness, making it easier to chat the next time she came through. Little by little, she’d have him prepped and ready to meet Hattie.
Twenty minutes later, Emily was back at the office, switching gears to her chamber of commerce work.
“So?” Hattie didn’t wait for Emily to finish stashing her purse into her desk drawer before swooping in for the scoop.
Emily didn’t look up, hoping her voice wouldn’t be too muffled from her position practically under the desk. “So I was thinking—” Emily’s purse strap got caught on the bottom corner of the desk, and she tugged to get it loose. “—we should start on the graphics for the kite festival in a couple of weeks.” She glanced at her watch. She’d cut it close getting back to the office. A little too close. “Is anyone here for the chamber board meeting?” She hoped not. She hadn’t checked the final agenda, and who knew how many last-minute requests had been emailed in the last couple of hours?
“Meredith O’Brien and our favorite ghost tour guide. But don’t worry about them. They can entertain themselves until everyone else gets here.” Hattie didn’t commentate on the latest gossip Renée no doubt shared with her, which screamed loud and clear how focused she was on something else.
“I need to get the agenda printed out for the meeting, but . . .” The stress of it tightened in her chest. She should have budgeted her time better.
“Oh, Meredith did that for you from your shared drive.”
What a relief. Emily’s position on the board of directors was in a consulting role. Meredith, owner of the local flower shop, served as the board’s chair. While Emily typically took care of the agendas, Meredith’s seeing the need and taking charge took some of the burden off her shoulders.
With the imminent meeting’s agenda figured out, she circled back to her original thought. “I want to get the kite festival up on Instagram and Facebook sooner rather than later.”
Hattie stomped her foot.
Emily looked up to give her full attention. “I’m sorry.” She could barely hold back a chuckle. “Was that not what you were asking?” She asked it innocently enough, but knew the answer perfectly well.
“Who was it? Anyone I’ve heard of? What was he like? Is he cute?” Hattie was way too eager, but it was amusing sitting back to watch. “Old?” She wrinkled her nose in disgust. “Was it awful? Are you going back? How much did he pay you?”
“Are you done yet?” Emily interrupted Hattie’s torrent of questions, unable to hold back her laughter any longer. She leaned back in her chair, sifting through the slips of paper messages from when she’d been out but not reading any of them.
“No, I’m not done!” Hattie pouted. “You haven’t told me anything.” She glared, hands on her hips and foot tapping as if she were keeping time with a march.
Emily smiled. “Actually, he’s someone I know. We went to high school together.” She purposely didn’t offer the name or the fact that he was the author behind Cruise Donnelly.
“Ooh! That’s interesting. Did you like him, then?”
Hattie’s simple, adolescent reaction plunged Emily in an ice bath of memories from a time and place she hadn’t wanted to revisit. If only she’d been honest with herself thirteen years ago, the answer would have been a yes. Now, the answer was irrelevant. That ship had sailed.
Ignoring the question, Emily answered the more important one—how she planned to proceed. “I was thinking a group activity—something fun to introduce him to some women and get to know him better. What do you think of making chocolate bars?” Of course, Hattie would be included. “Or something outside? The weather’s finally getting nice.”
“You’re going to set him up? Don’t you want him for yourself?” She looked at Emily as if she’d started drinking Pepsi when Diet Coke was available.
“Why, because he’s rich?” And handsome and sweet. It was a good thing Hattie didn’t know anything about Emily’s history with Grant. “I told you I’m not interested in dating right now.”
She hadn’t been kidding when she’d told Grant how grateful she was that she and Dixon hadn’t actually gone through with the wedding. He’d been all wrong for her in every way, and she’d been blind to it for too many years. That was what scared her the most. She could see who belonged with who and why when it came to everyone else, but she’d been way off when it came to her own heart. Now she had trouble trusting herself to ever figure it out. Seven years was a long time to get over their breakup, but nobody had really snagged her interest
enough to try again.
“If it’s between chocolate and outdoors, I’m always a fan of chocolate.” Hattie threw out her vote. “But I suppose the activity depends on who you’re inviting.” She looked down at her hands. “You’re much better at deciding those kinds of things.”
“You’re right. I mean, who isn’t a fan of chocolate?” The joking male voice approaching them made Hattie and Emily both jump. Eureka Springs’s golden boy—Kian Gould, owner of Spokes bike tours—was pretty much every young woman’s dream guy, though he didn’t seem to realize it. If she’d been a few years younger, even Emily would have been tempted to terminate her dating moratorium for a stab at a relationship with him. As it was, he was like a little brother, an influential ally, and a humorous sidekick all wrapped into one. “What’s the question for which chocolate might not be the answer?”
Keeping it brief, Emily laid out her dilemma, with the emphasis on getting to know an old friend again rather than the matchmaking part of the equation.
“Biking,” Kian suggested with confident authority. “It’s a great activity for groups. I have a new trail I wanted to try out, so I won’t even charge you.”
She’d never been on one of Kian’s bike tours, but the idea was just as intriguing as making chocolate bars. The question was which activity said “Grant Robbins”—or “Grantham Robbins”—the sweet but nerdy kid turned ultra-smart, über-successful novelist? Her indecision proved that she knew less about Grant than she’d assumed. She should have insisted on him filling out the questionnaire.
What did she know about him? High school Grant never would have allowed himself to be dragged into either activity, because it involved mingling with girls. He would have been too shy to do it, and especially to enjoy it. Surely, he’d matured since then, and he was obviously comfortable with the opposite sex. She’d seen enough tabloid pics to know that much.
“I might take you up on that, Kian.” Not an activity that had occurred to her, but it seemed like a nice balance of movement and socializing without being too taxing. And if Grant was uncomfortable, he could ride away. She tried not to smile at the image. “It sounds like a lot of fun. When?”
Kian shrugged. “I need to try it out as soon as possible. How does Saturday look for you?”
Emily decided not to overthink it. Whatever the activity, Grant’s reaction to it and to the other participants would all help compile the information she needed. “Saturday would be great. Thank you so much!”
“Perfect.” Kian nodded toward the conference room. “See you in a few. I’ll email you an itinerary to share with your guests. How many are coming?”
Emily said the names in her head as she ticked them off on her fingers: Grant, Hattie, and her only made three. She needed at least a couple more. She didn’t know who, but she’d find them. “Five or six plus you?” She made a face. “Does that work?”
“A good size. Give me a more exact count the day before so I have the bikes ready.” Kian took a step to leave.
“You’re a rock star.” Some people said Kian tended to give off a gruff vibe, but she’d found that most of the time he was friendly and generous.
He shook his head. “Don’t mention it. I owed you one, remember?”
“Vaguely.” Emily dismissed it with a wave of her hand. Keeping score wasn’t her thing. Small town, small businesses, it was best to do all they could for each other, because eventually it would all come back around. The town was too tight to hide from a bad name. “I’ll be in, in a minute.” A few more business owners needed to show up before they could start.
Kian disappeared into the conference room with a smile and greetings for everyone.
Hattie returned her attention to Emily. “This billionaire sounds like a difficult one to figure out.”
“You have no idea.” Emily was mostly kidding. “I have no idea how he feels about mountain biking, but I guess we’ll see.” If this client had been a stranger, she might not have stressed so much, but even though she didn’t want to admit it, she was a little hobbled by what she’d known about him a decade ago. The last thing she wanted was for someone to judge who she was now by who she’d been back then.
“I’m sorry I got you into this mess.” Hattie fiddled with a notebook on Emily’s desk, fanning the edges of the pages with her thumb.
Emily opened the board meeting agenda on her tablet and then looked up again to watch her coworker. “No worries. I’m glad you said yes. Really. It was good to see him again. Don’t we all have that one person we wonder what happened to? You know, where they went after graduation, what kind of person they turned out to be? This is that guy for me.” Inwardly, she winced that the words had come out so easily. Yesterday, she wouldn’t have put it so succinctly. She’d wondered, yes, but the way it came out just now made him sound like he was the one who’d gotten away.
Ninth grade, sitting next to each other in algebra, she and Grant had gone from barely knowing each other’s names to becoming really good friends. They’d rarely been in the same classes before and only peripherally known each other. Then, one day, Grant had scribbled a snarky comment about something the teacher said at the top of his notes. Reading it, Emily had burst out with an unintentional laugh she had to cover with a cough. Grant had been sitting sideways in his desk. Seated in the desk behind him, he easily read as she wrote a response. He’d scribbled another note, and she saw something in him she hadn’t before—a friend.
A few weeks into their conversations, they had perfected masks of polite attentiveness, never breaking a smile, their spirals equally split between notes to each other and problem sets from the whiteboard. Looking forward to algebra class had had nothing to do with numbers and everything to do with the boy whose humor lifted her spirits.
When she’d realized that she was becoming attracted to him but dating him would be social suicide, she’d distanced herself, joining a friend group that moved her closer toward those things that were important to her at the time. It wasn’t until years later, after she’d broken things off with Dixon, that she noticed that there weren’t a whole lot of guys out there as sweet as Grant and that she’d blown a really good shot by not giving it one.
“Yeah.” Hattie’s answer was flippant as she walked over to her own desk, her curiosity over the billionaire satiated. “That’s what Facebook is for.”
Emily had checked about a year ago. “Unless they aren’t on it.” She didn’t count the author page with the airbrushed persona.
Hattie greeted Ever Bryant from the dress shop with a big smile and a wave as she walked past for the board meeting.
Emily only had another minute or so. “I need your help,” she said. “We need at least a couple more people for the biking tour. Miss Taylor—Mrs. Weston,” she corrected herself, “said her new stepson is in town and wanted me to invite him to do something. I should probably add him to the list.” It sounded worse than traipsing through town in silk pajamas in the rain, but it would make the Westons happy.
“Less scary than a blind date.”
That was true. Although Hattie was sitting at her desk now, she hadn’t pulled out work of any sort. Emily collected her things, but one more thought occurred to her. “We need another woman.” From Hattie’s blank expression, it was clear she didn’t have any ideas. Emily voiced the first name that popped into her own head. She didn’t know her well, but she had seen her at Highbury with her father’s friends. “What about Jaden Fairbanks? Have you met her?”
Another Eureka Springs High School alum, Jaden was between Emily and Hattie age-wise, but she’d skipped a year of high school and graduated with Grant and Emily. Emily couldn’t definitively say that Jaden and Grant were compatible, but it was worth a shot.
Hattie shrugged. “If you think so. You’re the expert.” This time Hattie reached for the mouse and brought her computer to life with a click. Facebook appeared. “I’ll message Martin. Maybe he could come too.”
Oh, no! That was so far from what Emily wanted that
she had to restrain herself from yelling out. With everything she was doing to redirect Hattie’s interests away from that guy, she would not allow her to throw herself at him again. If it wouldn’t have been odd to invite the Mountain Cove’s security guard, she could have included Elton. There was no way she would allow Martin to infiltrate her friend group.
“Oh, Hattie.” She feigned a casual indifference. “I was thinking of keeping it an odd number so it would feel less double date-ish. To keep the pressure off.” Of course, that was only if they didn’t count their tour guide. Kian would make the numbers even.
“Oh, okay.” Hattie’s shoulders drooped, but she pulled up her work email rather than Messenger, the conversation apparently closed. She may be disappointed now, but if she hit it off with Mr. Weston’s son—whatever his name was—she wouldn’t be upset for long.
Emily checked the time on her tablet. “I’ve got to get into the meeting. Could you text Grant’s PA and ask her to block off the better part of his Saturday, details to come?”
“Will do.” The words were clipped, and Hattie’s eyes didn’t leave her screen. She tapped a little harder than necessary on her keyboard and then pounded several times on the delete key. Either she wasn’t fine with Martin being excluded, thought biking was a terrible idea, or didn’t want to be the one to contact Annalise, but Emily didn’t have time to decipher what had put her in a mood. If it had to do with Martin, Hattie wasn’t the only one having to swallow her feelings for the activity. Emily wasn’t exactly thrilled with the idea of inviting Jaden either.
Emily walked into the boardroom, composing possible Facebook messages to Jaden Fairbanks and trying to strike the right tone. There wasn’t anything wrong with Jaden, per se; Emily just hated that her aunt talked about her incessantly when Emily went to play dominoes with her father and his friends. She could only take so much of “my niece Jaden this” and “Jaden that.” Emily pushed her feelings aside. For Emily to find Grant’s match, she needed to see how he responded to both Hattie and Jaden—opposite sides of the personality spectrum.
The Matchmaker's Billionaire (Billionaire Bachelor Mountain Cove Book 2) Page 5