Seeking Single Male

by Stephanie Bond

  "Sounds tense."

  She shook her head. "I'm tired, Rich. I don't have the money, or the influence, or the energy. It's easier just to give people who have money what they want and get out of the way. I'd have been better off if I'd never fought Greg Healey. He's going to win, anyway, and all I'll have to show for it is a bankrupt business and a broken heart."

  He cracked a tiny smile. "There's a country-western song in there somewhere."

  She smiled in spite of herself, grateful that Rich had come into her life. "Will you watch the water while I change?" But her feet dragged during the short walk to her bedroom. She kept reliving the scene last night at the party, the look on Greg's face. She felt so…foolish. She'd been falling in love with the man, and he'd probably been laughing at her the entire time. Her face burned when she thought of her research and the notebook of ideas that he'd probably found laughably simplistic.

  She'd obviously set her life goals too high—a good relationship with her parents, her own business…Greg. Time to regroup. Tomorrow she would find out how long she'd have to transfer out of business, and would start hitting the Help Wanted ads.

  A wry frown curved her mouth. Back to the classifieds, where this whole miserable mess had started.

  "ARE YOU MAD AT ME, Gregory?"

  Greg lifted his eye from his telescope. He'd hoped to catch a glimpse of Lana today—maybe smiling or giving some indication that she didn't hate him as much as he thought she did—but he'd given up and turned his attention to Orion, the Hunter, featuring the red star of Betelgeuse. He sighed at the anguished look on his brother's face. "Of course I'm not mad at you."

  "Annette said I stuck my foot in your mouth."

  "I'm starting to like Annette," Greg murmured.

  "Did I ruin things between you and Lana?"

  "Nope," Greg said, dropping into an overstuffed chair. "I did that all by myself."

  "Don't you like Lana?"

  He pressed his lips together, then nodded. "Yeah, I like her a lot."

  "Do you love her?"

  Greg swung his head around in surprise. "I, uh…it doesn't matter. She doesn't feel that way about me."

  "How do you know?"

  "How could she, after what I'm about to do?"

  "Close her shop?"

  He nodded.

  "But do you have to close her shop?"

  "We've been through this, Will, and the money—"

  "Isn't Lana more important than money?"

  Greg blinked. Will had never interrupted him before. Never. "I—"

  "Gregory, I'm not always going to be around to take care of you, you know."

  Greg's eyebrows lifted.

  "So if you love Lana, you'd better find a way to get her to love you back."

  Greg felt his jaw loosen. Will was giving him relationship advice?

  "And as far as the business goes," Will continued, "Daddy left me half, didn't he?"

  Incredulity gripped him. Will had never shown an ounce of interest in the company. Was he threatening to veto Greg's decision?

  "Look into your heart, Gregory, and do the right thing."

  "LET'S TRY TO KEEP this brief," councilwoman Wheeler said with a smile as she closed her office door. "A few weeks ago I charged the two of you to come up with a compromise on the Hyde Parkland revitalization project—a plan that would please the landowner and the existing merchants. Were you able to reach a compromise?"

  "No," Lana said without looking in Greg's direction. Her skin tingled at his proximity. She had a death grip on the bag that held his repaired jacket, which she intended to throw in his face at an appropriate time. Hopefully soon. She wanted to get this over with, quickly. "But the merchants—"

  "Yes," Greg cut in. "I'll be presenting a compromise to the city council next week which I think will please all parties."

  Lana swung her head to narrow her eyes at him. "Is this another trick?" she murmured, breaking her vow not to speak to him.

  "No. Just hear me out."

  "We're listening, Mr. Healey."

  He opened his briefcase and withdrew a foldout poster. "These drawings are a little crude, but basically the modified proposal details the development of a village in the Hyde Parkland area."

  "A village?" Lana parroted.

  He nodded. "Structures that would house a store on the first floor, and living quarters for the business owner above."

  "Like an old-time village," Wheeler said, obviously warming to the idea.

  "Exactly," Greg said, nodding enthusiastically. "If two blocks of Hyde Parkland were developed in this fashion, then most of the retail landscape could be retained, and more businesses would be attracted. Food shops, hair salons, service businesses—we would cater to the small business owner who wants the convenience of being close to his or her shop. When everything is renovated, it'll be the best of the old and the new—sidewalks, parks, lampposts, awnings."

  Lana could only gape.

  The councilwoman hummed her approval. "Well done, Mr. Healey, Ms. Martina. Much better than leveling blocks and starting over. I knew you could come up with something if the two of you worked together. I assume you have a developer who's interested in executing the plan?"

  "The primary developer pulled out when I presented this idea, but I have two smaller companies who are interested. The time line will be longer than we previously discussed—maybe as long as three years."

  "What's three years?" Wheeler asked. "We're talking about the future of downtown Lexington."

  "My feelings exactly," Greg said.

  Lana's head was spinning. She certainly couldn't deny the attractiveness of the idea—a village atmosphere would be the perfect solution for the neighborhood. But why the sudden change of heart?

  She met his gaze, knowing her confusion was clear. He stared back, his eyes shining with what seemed like regret, or guilt.

  There was a knock on the door, and someone who needed to speak with the councilwoman appeared. "I'll be right back," Ms. Wheeler promised, then left them in an awkward silence.

  Lana squirmed on the hard chair, afraid to look at him, afraid to get drawn in again by what she wanted to see.

  "I'm sorry about the other night," Greg said softly. "I can imagine what you must think of me."

  "Good," she said. "Then I don't have to tell you."

  "I want to see you again."

  Her breath froze in her chest. A blip of happiness at his request was overridden by the memory of the past couple of days. Greg was too easy to love, and he'd never feel the same way about her. "No," she said, shaking her head. "We're too different, Greg, and—"

  "I love you."

  She gripped the edges of the chair to steady herself, and her pulse. "What?" she croaked.

  "I love you. I want us to be together."

  Lana stood abruptly, making a chopping motion with her hand. "I'm not having this conversation." She blinked furious tears. "You get me down here, knowing I'm expecting the worst, then spring this idea on me, which is pretty good, but you could have had the decency to share it earlier, and now you've decided that you love me and that we should be together, and you think you can just snap your fingers, and I'll come running?"

  A little frown marred his brow. "Is that a question?"

  "I'm out of here."

  "Lana—"

  "Don't," she said, raising her hand like a crossing guard. Her tears were falling freely now. "You've put me through a lot the past few weeks. Excuse me if I don't want to be manipulated anymore." Remembering the jacket, she flung it at him, then walked to the door, wiping her eyes. "Give my apologies to Ms. Wheeler."

  LANA LAY on the beanbag chair, looking up at the ceiling, enjoying the floating sensation. She hadn't been able to go back to the shop after the meeting, so she'd called Alex and apologized for ruining the rug, which led to a crying jag, then had spent the afternoon in the beanbag, replaying what Greg had said during the meeting. I love you. I want us to be together. I love you. I want us to be together. I lov
e you. I want us to be together.

  Together, how? Together, dating? Together, live together? Together, married?

  "What am I going to do, Harry?" she asked her sidekick, who was dressed again in his striped pajamas. "The man scares me. I've known him for a few weeks, and he completely wrecked my life."

  Harry grinned.

  "I was willing to let him bulldoze my coffee shop because I trusted him so much to do what was right."

  Harry grinned.

  "Do you think if he were in a similar situation, he'd be willing to make such a big sacrifice for me?"

  Harry grinned.

  "But if I give up now, I'll never know."

  Harry grinned.

  "You're right!" she cried, and grabbed the doll to give him a smooch on the cheek. Then she picked up the phone with a shaky hand. She'd dialed three numbers when she glanced toward the balcony and an idea took root. With a sudden burst of energy, she slammed down the phone and went to the bedroom for supplies.

  GREG DROPPED onto the foot of his bed to remove his shoes. What a day. What a disconcerting, chaotic day. The meeting with Wheeler, the phone call to turn down the job offer, the hours-long staff meeting to outline the new, more relaxed, company policies.

  It had been a big decision to give up the chance at criminal law, but Greg had taken Will's words to heart. Not only was Lana more important to him than money, but she meant more to him than a job in the courthouse.

  But the satisfaction of making decisions and setting the wheels in motion was tempered by his disappointment over Lana's reaction to his proclamation. He was a proud man. Words like I love you did not spill out of his mouth easily. Call him vain, but he'd expected a better response.

  He closed his eyes. Complicated. He'd fallen in love with a complicated woman. He didn't know how, but he was going to wear her down. He was going to, as Will said, find a way to get her to love him back.

  Will. He laughed. What a surprise his brother could be.

  Greg pushed himself to his tired feet, peeled off his shirt, then splashed his face with cold water. Moving slowly—damn, he was feeling old—he spun the telescope around, pointing it northwest in the falling dusk, hoping for a good view of Cassiopeia, the Queen. The constellation was dim but visible, and promised a brighter show later in the month. Whistling tunelessly, he spun the telescope toward the skyline, more out of habit than out of hope. When he focused on her apartment building, he lifted his head, squinted, then looked again. Something was draped across her balcony. A sheet. A sheet with lettering.

  He adjusted the power of the lens, then refocused. Yes, it was a sheet with…a message. His heart beat faster as he linked the large, black letters into words. He read them out loud. "'Complicated…woman…seeking…single…male.'"

  Greg's heart vaulted in his chest.

  Epilogue

  "WHAT ARE YOU going to do with Harry?" Greg asked, draping his arm around the grinning doll's shoulders.

  Lana straightened from packing a box and smiled. "Alex is getting me the address of the Valentine sisters. We knew them in college, and Alex thinks they're both still single. One of them will be the lucky recipient of Harry."

  Greg scratched his head. "What happens when everyone is eventually married?"

  She frowned. "Well, if statistics bear out, someone's bound to be single again sometime."

  He walked over and gathered her in his arms. "Not you, Mrs. Healey."

  She laughed. "Lana Healey. It still sounds so strange."

  "But good," he murmured, nuzzling her cheek. "Will and I had a discussion about that very thing right after he met you." He laughed. "Of course, at the time he thought he would marry you."

  "I can't imagine him with anyone but Annette."

  "And I can't imagine me with anyone but you."

  A little thrill raced through her at the sight of the love in his dark eyes. Lately he looked years younger, his features more relaxed, his mouth more apt to smile. Lana sighed. "I love our life. You, husband, were brilliant on TV last night. Alex says your company is bound to win all kinds of awards for engineering such an innovative revitalization plan."

  "We still have a long way to go."

  "You're off to an impressive start." She angled her head at him. "You're so…persuasive when you want to be. You would've made a great criminal lawyer."

  A tiny smile softened his mouth.

  "Did you ever think about it?"

  "Oh, once or twice," he said, then shrugged. "But it just wasn't my cuppa…Joe."

  He pulled her into his embrace and she buried her nose in his soft sweatshirt. Holy happily-ever-after. Here was the male she'd been seeking all along.

  ISBN: 978-1-4268-4002-9

  SEEKING SINGLE MALE

  Copyright © 2000 by Stephanie Bond Hauck.

  All rights reserved. Except for use in any review, the reproduction or utilization of this work in whole or in part in any form by any electronic, mechanical or other means, now known or hereafter invented, including xerography, photocopying and recording, or in any information storage or retrieval system, is forbidden without the written permission of the publisher, Harlequin Enterprises Limited, 225 Duncan Mill Road, Don Mills, Ontario, Canada M3B 3K9.

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