Destiny's Dream

by Delia Latham

  He swung around, flashing a dazzling grin and a pair of twinkling blue-gray eyes. “Yes, ma’am, you certainly can. I’ve reached just about half past thirty without finding my soul mate, and I have it on good authority that this is the place to get a push in the right direction.”

  Destiny laughed, and realized with surprise that it was the first time she’d done so all week. “Well, you heard right. Come on into my office. Let’s talk about it.”

  “Lead the way.” The stranger offered a mocking bow.

  Settled behind her desk, she smiled at the absurdly handsome man across from her. “I don’t believe for a minute that you can’t find your own dates—not with that killer smile and Lothario charm.”

  Her visitor chuckled. “Finding dates is no problem. Finding ‘she whom my soul loveth’—now that’s another story.” He offered a crooked smile that brought out a single dimple. It caught at her heart with a painful tug. Half angry, she chided herself. I’m seeing Clay in every man with a dent in his cheek. I have to stop this!

  “Are you OK?”

  Startled, Destiny realized she hadn’t been listening. “I’m sorry, I just—I had a vague moment.” She pulled a brochure from a drawer and slid it across the desk. “Why don’t you take a few minutes to look this over? Then I’ll have you fill out an application on the computer in the next room. But first I’d like to talk for a few moments, if you don’t mind, just to see if I think we can help you.”

  “I’m an open book, madam. Fire away.”

  Her answering chuckle caught her off guard. Maybe there really was life after Clay Gallagher. “Well, I really didn’t have an inquisition in mind, Mr.—oh, I’m so sorry. I didn’t introduce myself, did I?” Rising, she stretched a hand toward her client. “Let me start over. I’m Destiny May. I own Solomon’s Gate.”

  He took her hand in a firm grip. “I’m pleased to meet you, Destiny May—or should I say Cupid? Call me C.J. Call me anything. Just please don’t call me Mister again.”

  Destiny paused, not at all amused. “Don’t call me Cupid and you’ve got a deal.” She eased back into her chair. “Tell me why you chose Solomon’s Gate, C.J.”

  He arched a dark brow. “I already did.”

  “No, you told me why you’re considering a dating agency, not why you chose this one. You are aware that we’re a Christian service?”

  “I am. That’s one of the reasons I chose you.”

  She smiled a little, inclined to forgive him his unwittingly offensive Cupid remark. “Good answer. Now, before I set you up with that application, I have a couple more basic questions. Are you married?”

  He chuckled again. The stranger seemed to love laughter, and Destiny found she couldn’t resist an answering smile. “No, ma’am! Never have been, and until recently I’ve been more than happy to keep it that way. But like I said, I’m not getting any younger, and I don’t seem to be finding that perfect woman on my own.”

  “Maybe it’s the quest for perfection that’s the problem.” She busied herself pulling a notepad and a couple of pencils from a drawer. “No one’s perfect, you know. I’m good at what I do, C.J., but if you’re looking for a perfect woman, not even I can make it happen for you.”

  He had the grace to look abashed. “It was just an expression. Honest!” His disarming grin had almost certainly gotten him out of tight places more than once. “I’m nowhere near perfect myself, Miss May.”

  “Good, as long as we’re clear. So how do you feel about divorce, C.J.?”

  He drew his heavy brows together in a mock frown. “You don’t waste any time, do you?”

  She shook her head. “Not about this. It’s important.”

  He shrugged. “OK. I hate it. That’s one of the reasons I’ve avoided matrimony for so long. Too many marriages fail, and I don’t want to be a statistic. I won’t say ‘I do’ until I really do.” He raised a hand to push back a wayward strand of dark brown hair. “And for the record, I’m not interested in any woman who doesn’t feel the same way.”

  Destiny laughed outright, enjoying the sound and the feel of it after the dreariness of her week up to this point. “That’s what I like to hear.” Rising, she rounded the desk and motioned to her guest to follow. “Come with me. I’ll get you set up at the computer. You can work through the application while I get the video equipment ready. We’ll conduct the next portion of the interview in front of the camera.”

  She squared him away at a workstation and was putting a few finishing touches on the photo setting when Julie stuck her head into the sunny little room. “Anybody with you, boss?”

  “We have a potential Seeker in the guest office.” She cast an assessing eye over the set. “What do you think?”

  Covered in eye-jolting red-and-white stripes accented by blue denim cushions, a plump sofa dominated the set. An overstuffed navy easy chair sat across from it. Anchoring the two pieces of furniture, a modern glass coffee table stood atop a white area rug. On one end of the table, a Bible lay open, inviting perusal. A bouquet of fresh white daisies and green asparagus fern stood at the other end, adding life and artistry to the scene. The cheery grouping gave the set a homey feel. Even the most nervous of Seekers relaxed here, as if they’d stepped into a warm, brightly hued living room.

  Her assistant shrugged. “Looks great—same as always. Hey, if you want to go to lunch, I’ll take over for you.”

  Destiny shook her head. “No, I’ve already started this one. I’ll go when I’ve finished. Thanks, Julie.”

  She tapped on the door of the guest office as she entered. “How’s it going, C.J.? Ready to be the star of your own show?”

  He looked up with a lazy smile. “Yep. Just finished your online inquisition. You don’t allow any secrets, do you?”

  “None whatsoever.” She wiggled an eyebrow at him, hit the print button and grabbed his application as it slid out of the printer. “Come on, let’s make a movie.”

  After settling her guest onto the comfortable striped sofa, she positioned herself on a stool near the camera. Finally, she looked down at his application. “OK, here we go. Let’s see. Your full name is—oh, for pity’s sake!” Jumping to her feet, Destiny dropped the form filled with his neat handwriting and watched it slide across the floor. One hand flew up to cover her mouth. “You’re C-Carson Gallagher!”

  He quirked a curious eyebrow. “Uhm…guilty as charged. Carson James Gallagher—C.J. to most folks.” He tilted his head to one side, watching her reaction with an expression whose familiarity no longer puzzled her. “It seems I’ve somehow achieved notoriety. I take it my being Carson Gallagher is some kind of a problem?”

  ****

  Mama’s bedroom door had supported the same old oak-framed mirror for as long as Destiny could remember. Standing in front of it, she drew a deep breath, unable to dredge up the degree of excitement she hoped to attain.

  She couldn’t fault her appearance for the underlying discontent. The thick mass of auburn hair piled atop her head in a deliberately messy style worked well for her. Her face had lost the pallor brought on by her fight with Clay, as well it should have. Three weeks was far too long to be moping about a silly argument with a hard-headed man, no matter how charming his crooked grin, or how mesmerizing his sometimes-steely eyes. She hadn’t heard from him, and she had no intention of contacting the insufferable oaf herself.

  Smoothing the black silk of her dress, she decided C.J. would like the way she looked tonight. Her lips curved into a small smile as she remembered how he had ripped his application in two, tossed the pieces into the air with a dramatic flourish, and refused the video session before it could get started. “You know, I have a feeling that if I become an official Seeker, I won’t stand a chance of getting you to go out with me. I don’t need a video session to know that’s what I want.”

  Still shaky after discovering his identity, Destiny had plopped onto the other end of the bright sofa in the video room and shook her head. “I don’t think so, C.J. Clay will be livid that yo
u’re having anything to do with me. He thinks I’m the worst kind of meddler.” Her lips trembled in spite of her best efforts, and she brushed a hand across her eyes, determined not to let a single tear find its way down her cheek.

  “Hey.” C.J. scooted across the sofa and used a finger to tilt her chin up in yet another gesture that made her think of Clay. Still, it forced her to meet his eyes. “I love my brother, but he’s not my keeper—not in this sense. Or yours, for that matter. If he’s not bright enough to know a good thing when he sees it, that’s his problem. I won’t make the same mistake.” He flashed that crooked Gallagher smile. “Will you go out with me, or not?”

  His eyes held more blue than Clay’s, but they were still enough alike that Destiny’s tummy clenched in response. She hesitated only briefly before nodding. He was right. Clay had no claim on her and apparently didn’t want one. What could it hurt to enjoy a night out with his charming brother?

  So here she was, waiting for another Gallagher man to pick her up at Mama’s house. She was ready early, too. Eager some? With a little grin, she picked up a magazine and dropped onto the unattractive sofa. Glancing around the outdated room, a vague sense of discontent stirred within her. She really ought to call an agent and get the house on the market. A sweet little apartment like the one she used to have would be a nice change.

  A sharp rap on the door jerked her attention off the couch in startled reaction. She cast a quick glance at the clock over the mantel and hurried to greet her date.

  “You’re early!” She swung the door open with a smile. “Don’t you know that’s not—oh!”

  It wasn’t C.J.

  Standing on the small front porch, Clay looked even bigger than she remembered, and only a tad less disheveled. He wore a blatantly hang-dog expression and carried a gorgeous bouquet of red roses.

  “I take it you were expecting someone else.” He produced a shaky smile, and Destiny could see the effort it took. “Do you have time for an apology from a sorry fool?”

  ****

  He was sure she wouldn’t let him in. She was plainly shocked to see him, and he realized—too late, as usual—that he should have called. Besides, he didn’t need her quick glance over his shoulder to tell him she was expecting a date. Her appearance made that fact abundantly clear. He had almost forgotten how stunning Destiny looked.

  Still he stood there with his heart on his sleeve, and finally she took a step backward and waved him inside. “I only have a moment.”

  “I can see that.” He held out the roses and breathed a silent sigh of relief when she took them. If she didn’t toss them in his face, he could hope she might forgive him.

  She didn’t throw them, but neither did she look any too pleased. “They’re lovely, Clay, thank you. But I don’t understand. What are you doing here?”

  He indicated the sofa, which didn’t look like Destiny’s taste to him. Must have been her mother’s. “Mind if I sit down?”

  She hesitated, but nodded even as she cast another anxious look toward the door. Clay knew he should get out of her way, but it had taken a lot for him to crumble his pride enough to be here—to say nothing of enough prayer to make him feel like he knew the Almighty, for a change. Having gained entrance, he had no intention of leaving until he spoke his piece.

  He smiled and patted the cushion beside him. “You gonna stand there while I beg your forgiveness? Please…sit down for a moment?”

  Destiny pressed her lips together, and he saw her fighting the smile that finally won out. She dropped his flowers into a cheap glass vase on a nearby table, then chose to seat herself across from him in the matching chair. “I should be putting those in water, but OK, I’m sitting. Say what you came to say.”

  Clay’s smile melted away at the deliberate coolness of her voice. Boy, did he ever have work to do.

  “Destiny, I’m sorry. I was wrong. I spoke with Mom, and of course she verified everything you already told me. Can you forgive me for being such a confounded fool?”

  She shrugged, refusing to meet his eyes. “Sure.”

  Too easy. “That’s it? Just like that?”

  Her green eyes touched on his, then shied away again. “Of course. You’ve apologized, and my Bible says I should forgive you. So…I do. I forgive you.”

  Whoa. A far cry from the reaction he’d envisioned. He cleared his throat. “Look, not that I don’t appreciate your obedience to the Good Book…I do. But do you think you could possibly forgive me because you want to—not just because it’s the Christian way?”

  She was silent for a long time, while Clay discovered the meaning of someone holding his heart in her hands. By the time she spoke, he found it hard to breathe.

  “I do want to forgive you. But I have to be honest. You hurt me, and I’m not inclined to open myself up for that again.”

  He forced his hoarse voice out through the dry desert of his throat. “What are you saying?”

  At last, she looked directly into his eyes. “I’m saying thank you for stopping by. Thank you for the lovely roses. I appreciate your apology, and respect you for offering it. And I do forgive you for doubting me—and for being such a jerk.” She offered him a shaky smile. “But there’s no going back, Clay. I can’t be comfortable with a man who has no respect for my profession, and so little trust in me.”

  “Destiny, I—” He was preparing to slide off the sofa and onto his knees when a light tap at the door interrupted his plan.

  The woman he liked far more than he ought to at this stage of the game stood to her feet and lifted her firm little chin. “I’m sorry, Clay, but you’ll have to leave now. My date is here.”

  She picked up a small black bag on her way to the door, which she swung open with a welcoming smile. “Hi, C.J. I’m ready.”

  Clay gaped in disbelief as his brother—his brother!—stepped into the drab room wearing a smile on his face and a boutonnière on his lapel. He handed Destiny a single, long-stemmed rose and bent to kiss her cheek before acknowledging Clay’s presence.

  “Hey, bro—I saw your car outside. Wish we could stay and visit, but there’s a table for two waiting for us at Creekside. We’ll have to catch up with you later.”

  Destiny's Dream

  10

  Destiny stared into the darkness, wide awake at one in the morning. She had gone over the scene with Clay and C.J. so many times it was beginning to feel like a continuous-play recording. The look on Clay’s face when his brother walked into the room…the dejected slump of his shoulders as he trudged out to his vehicle…that last, defeated glance her way before he got into his car and drove off. She wondered how long those mental visions would twist her heart into a painful lump.

  Dinner at Creekside Restaurant failed to satisfy, though she couldn’t blame the food. It was perfect, as always. Nor had the atmosphere been any less elegantly romantic than usual. The elite restaurant’s reputation remained untarnished. Yet Destiny found it impossible to get into the spirit of the evening.

  As an escort, C.J. was courtly, fun, and every inch a gentleman. But Destiny found herself unable to respond in kind. Nothing her date did or said could change the fact that he was not his brother.

  Frustrated, she flounced onto her side and pounded a fist into her pillow. I can’t believe I’m losing sleep over you, Clay Gallagher! You don’t deserve it and I can’t afford it. She glanced at the lighted clock beside her bed and groaned. That’s it. I’m done with fretting for tonight.

  Closing her eyes, she concentrated on clearing her mind, and was starting to have some miniscule success when the phone on the bedside table blasted out a discordant jangle. Shrieking, she sat straight up and jerked the receiver off the hook.

  “What? Who is it?” Her breathless response sounded frightened even in her own ears.

  “I’m a Daddy, Teeni!”

  “What?”

  “It’s me, sis—Jeremy. You awake yet?”

  “Still. I’m awake still.” She leaned over to switch on the small lamp next t
o the phone, then grinned as her brother’s news registered in her foggy brain. “You’re a Daddy? Well, am I an aunt or an uncle?”

  A burst of laughter met her question. “You’re an uncle. Bet you never thought you’d be one, did you?”

  “Nope, I never did. How’s Mare?”

  Jeremy’s reply was husky. “Mary Lynn and the baby are both fine. I can’t believe what a trouper she is, Teeni.” He cleared his throat. “She’s braver than me. I was scared out of my mind.”

  Destiny smiled. The big, mean Marine machine was still her little brother. “I think it’s pretty normal to be nervous at times like that, Jemmy. Tell me about the baby. Does he have a name? How much does he weigh? Does he look like me? Details, little brother, I want details!”

  ****

  Destiny thought Jenna might soon drive her crazy—stark, staring, out-of-her-mind, over-the-edge loony.

  “Jen, why can’t we ever just do things simply, like other families? It’s a baby shower, not a wedding.”

  Her sister grinned and dumped an armload of fresh flowers into her arms. “But it’s Jeremy’s baby’s shower! Now go do your thing. Oh, the caterer is here.” She waved at a woman standing across the wide expanse of Clevenger lawn and hurried off to greet her.

  With a resigned sigh, Destiny began arranging fragrant blooms into the crystal vases waiting on each of a dozen tables. A cool breeze lifted a few tendrils of hair that had worked loose from her ponytail, blowing them gently around her face. At least the weather was cooperating. Jenna couldn’t have chosen a more beautiful day for an outside event.

  As Destiny worked, she found herself once more reliving the evening over which she had lost ridiculous amounts of sleep. Two full weeks had gone by, and she still couldn’t get Clay’s wounded expression out of her mind. C.J. called twice, trying to arrange another date, and both times she made barely believable excuses. Somehow it just didn’t feel right.