Set Up in SoHo (The Matchmaker Chronicles)

by Dee Davis

  “So what happened next?”

  “He showed up at my apartment Sunday afternoon. And he’d had a few drinks.”

  “Never a good start.”

  “Exactly. Anyway, he basically just let me have it. Told me that if I wasn’t ready to move in with him, then clearly I wasn’t committed to the relationship and that he wasn’t going to stick around to wait for me to kick him to the curb.

  “I tried to tell him that he was wrong. That I’d been thinking about nothing but his request. But he didn’t want to listen. Just said that he’d heard me describe him as boring. And that as much as he’d tried to get past the fact, he couldn’t. He said that he’d thought I was different, but it turned out that I was like every other woman—only interested in guys I couldn’t have. Guys with an edge. Not nice guys like him.” She paused for a sip of courage. “You should have seen him, Andi. He was so angry. So self-righteous.”

  “Well, maybe you’re better off without him. Maybe we’re both better off.”

  “I’ll drink to that,” she said. We clinked glasses and drained the rest of the vodka. “But I don’t feel better off.”

  “Neither do I,” I said as I walked over to pour more drinks. “But I think maybe that’s what men do. They sucker you in, pretending to be something they’re not. And then—wham—when you least expect it, they revert to type.”

  “Assholes,” she said, taking the glass I handed her. “And to think I thought he was different.”

  “Well, at least Althea won’t have another notch on her belt,” I said, feeling a little woozy from the alcohol.

  “I guess there is that,” Bethany agreed. “But I’d much rather that she’d won. I mean, I really did like him.”

  “Then maybe you should tell him you were wrong.”

  “But I wasn’t. He shouldn’t have jumped to conclusions. Or at least he should have given me a chance to explain my side of it. I don’t respond well to ultimatums.”

  “It could have just been the alcohol talking,” I said.

  “No. That might have bolstered his courage, or made him be a little more harsh than he intended, but he still meant what he said. He couldn’t handle the fact that I needed time.”

  “Well, I’m sorry,” I said, reaching over to cover her hand with mine. “It just hasn’t been a good month for finding Mr. Right. I’m actually two down, if you want to keep count.”

  “Dillon. I’d forgotten all about him.”

  “I wish I could. I mean, it’s just too much to deal with, really. First my longtime boyfriend ditches me for the queen of Manhattan triviality. And then her counterpart wines and dines me right out of my chance for prime time.”

  “It’s not fair,” Bethany said, shaking her head. “They’re all jerks.”

  “Now if only we can figure out how to live without them.”

  “More vodka,” she laughed. Bentley barked as someone knocked on the door and I wondered what the hell had happened to the security in this building.

  “Probably Clinton,” I said as I pushed off the sofa to open the door.

  “Good, he can join the wallowing.”

  “He can’t, actually,” I called over my shoulder. “He’s met someone new.”

  “Well, at least one of us is having a success.”

  “I hope you brought libations,” I said, throwing open the door. But it wasn’t Clinton.

  It was Ethan.

  Shit.

  Chapter 18

  “I, uh, think maybe I should be leaving,” Bethany said, grabbing her purse as she made a beeline for the door, where I was still standing, staring at Ethan.

  “No,” I said with a visible shake of my head. “There’s no need for that. You are welcome here.”

  “Actually, Bethany,” Ethan said, his voice deceptively soft, “I think it might be best if you go. Andi and I have some things to talk about.”

  “I think we’ve said everything that needs to be said.” My fingers itched to slam the door in his arrogant, aristocratic face, but my heart just wasn’t buying into the idea, and besides, Bethany was in the way.

  “You may have said what you wanted to, but I haven’t had a chance for rebuttal.” His eyes were like lasers pinning me to the spot. And too late I remembered that the man was an attorney. A rather good one, if present circumstances were any indication. “And if I remember first-year law,” he continued, “our entire system of government is based on the right of the accused to face his accuser.”

  Okay, so I wasn’t a poster child for innocent until proven guilty. But I still had the facts on my side.

  “I’ll call you tomorrow,” Bethany said, inching toward the door looking decidedly uncomfortable.

  “You don’t have to go,” I insisted stubbornly, shooting a narrow-eyed look at Ethan. If he thought he could intimidate me, he had another think coming.

  “Yeah, actually, I do.” She nodded. “You guys need to sort this out and I don’t think I’ve got anything to add to the equation.”

  “We could use a referee,” I suggested, tentatively.

  “Andi—,” Ethan warned.

  “Fine,” I sighed, accepting the inevitable, as Bethany scrambled out the door. “Thanks for the ice cream.”

  “Hang in there,” she mouthed behind Ethan’s back. And then, in a more audible tone, “I’ll call you later.”

  I nodded, and stepped back to let Ethan into the apartment. Bentley, who apparently hadn’t gotten the memo about the whole disastrous affair, threw himself at Ethan in unabandoned delight.

  “Bentley,” I called, leaning down to pick up my traitorous dog.

  “This isn’t a war, Andi,” Ethan said, still using his overly calm tone.

  “No. It isn’t.” I sighed, straightening to face him. “So what is it you came to say?”

  “Can we at least sit down?” he asked.

  “I’m sorry,” I said, “duplicity tends to make me forget my manners.” I hadn’t meant to sound so snippy, but backstabbing boyfriends have a way of bringing out the worst in me. And lately, I seemed to have hit the mother lode.

  I walked over to the sofa, still holding Bentley, and took a seat, waiting.

  “There was no duplicity,” Ethan ground out. “You’ve taken what appear to be the facts and assumed the worst.”

  “Can you blame me?”

  “For connecting the dots, no. For not giving me the benefit of the doubt, I guess I expected more from you in that regard.”

  “You didn’t deny any of it when I was in your office,” I said, crossing my arms, trying to channel Jack McCoy.

  “You didn’t give me a chance.” He walked over to the bar and poured a few fingers of bourbon. Okay, I’ll admit I’ve got no idea what “fingers” of bourbon even are. But it sounds better than saying he sloshed some whiskey in a glass. And since the buzz from my vodka tonic had evaporated the minute I’d opened the door, I held up my glass, silently requesting another.

  When he’d settled on the sofa, I took a long drink and then dove in. “So are you going to deny that Mathias Industries persuaded DuBois to cancel his meeting with me?”

  “No. It’s just that—”

  “But if you’re not denying it,” I cut him off, frustration cresting, “then I’m not sure why we’re having this conversation.”

  “For absolutely no reason at all if you keep interrupting.”

  My fingers tightened around my glass as I resisted the urge to throw it across the room. The impulse wasn’t at all ladylike, and quite frankly, it was my good crystal. Instead, I sat back, and with what I hoped was a supremely regal air, waved for him to proceed.

  “I didn’t have anything to do with DuBois refusing to do the interview. Until you came barreling into the office, I didn’t even know it had happened.”

  “I find that hard to believe. You told me yourself you’d stepped into your father’s shoes. And Google clearly identifies him as the working head of Mathias Industries. And I’ve got proof—well, Cassie actually has it—but the po
int is that I know that Mathias Industries is responsible for DuBois’ change of heart.”

  “I’m not denying that.”

  “But you just said . .

  “I said that I wasn’t responsible—”

  “Ignorance is no excuse.”

  “I’m not pleading ignorance, Andi. I’m telling you that no one in my employ contacted Mathias.”

  “Then who . . .”

  “It’s complicated.”

  “Isn’t it always,” I said, still fondling my glass.

  “Look, Andi,” he said, looking altogether too serious, “there’s something I should have told you the minute it came up. But you have to understand I didn’t expect there to be any ramifications from the omission.”

  “There are always ramifications. It’s a law or something. Anyway, why don’t you just tell me,” I prompted. Surely it couldn’t get any worse than it already was.

  “You remember at Nino’s—when you ran into Diana and Dillon.”

  “Yeah. How could I not?” I shrugged. “Humiliation is always memorable. Although I’m not sure I see what that has to do with any of this.”

  “I know, but just bear with me,” he said on a sigh. “Do you remember asking me about Diana? You thought that the two of us might have been involved.”

  I nodded. The idea had made me sick then, and despite the circumstances, or maybe because of them, the feeling was only stronger now. “Are you telling me that you were involved with her?”

  “No.” He lifted a hand in denial. “At least not the way you mean. Diana is my cousin, Andi. Her mother is my mother’s sister.”

  “Holy shit.” My stomach threatened revolt.

  “Exactly.” He nodded, reaching out to comfort me, but I waved him off with my hands. “Now you understand why I didn’t want to tell you.”

  “Aside from the fact that it’s something else you lied about, I still don’t see what this has to do with Philip and the interview.”

  “Diana was the one who talked to Philip.” And just like that it all made sense.

  “She wanted to get back at me for dissing her restaurant,” I said, surprised to find that my voice actually sounded normal.

  “It would seem so. Although I suspect that was only part of it. I gather there’s no love lost between the two of you.”

  “She stole my boyfriend, I hardly think that’s grounds for best friends forever,” I said, ignoring the flicker of hurt that flashed in his eyes. “Although to be honest, I’ve never really liked her. She’s the perfect example of everything I hate about Manhattan society.”

  “Yet another reason why I was loath to admit that she was my cousin.”

  “But I still don’t see how any of this happened without your approval.”

  “Diana didn’t ask for approval. In fact, she didn’t tell anyone what she was doing. She just called DuBois and told him in no uncertain terms that if he didn’t turn you down, Mathias Industries would find somewhere else to invest their money.”

  “And he just bought into it? What is it about men and Diana?” The last was purely rhetorical, but Ethan answered anyway.

  “Sometimes men just see what they want to see. Anyway, Philip listened to her because he believed she was acting on my grandfather’s authority. My grandfather let her handle the original talks about our investing in DuBois’ restaurants. So as far as DuBois knew, Diana was still speaking for the company.”

  “And you had no idea that she was doing any of this.” I walked over to the counter to refill my drink. I had a feeling I was going to need all the fortification I could get. Me and my overactive mouth.

  “None at all.” He shook his head. “Except for the few words we exchanged at Nino’s, our paths haven’t crossed since I got back.”

  “But didn’t she realize that eventually someone was bound to figure out what she’d done?” I asked, bringing the bourbon over to refill his glass.

  “I think she thought that by the time we figured out what had happened, she’d have convinced my grandfather that getting DuBois on Applause was the right course of action.”

  “So does Diana actually work for Mathias?” Quite honestly, the image didn’t fit. She wasn’t exactly the nine-to-five type.

  “Not officially. But I think she’s always believed that when the time came for my father to step down, she’d be the one Grandfather tapped to take his place. I’d never shown any interest, so she figured it was a done deal.”

  “You never wanted any of it?”

  “Not really. I mean, I love my family. And I’m proud of all that my grandfather’s achieved. But I never really saw myself stepping into his shoes.”

  “But then your father got sick.”

  “My grandfather needed someone with experience. Someone who could hit the ground running.”

  “You.” I tried to imagine how I’d feel if Althea suddenly needed me to run her business. It was a staggering thought—and fortunately one that would never become a reality. Althea was healthy as a horse, and frankly, I’m the last person she’d ever call on. The realization was more disquieting than it should have been. “So I imagine Diana was pretty pissed.”

  “I’m sure she wasn’t happy about it. Although she never said anything to me.”

  “Did your grandfather lead her to believe that she was going to take over?”

  “He says no. But he’s always kept his own counsel, so I can’t say for sure. The relevant point here is that I think Diana believed that if she could produce DuBois along with the idea of an exclusive interview on Applause, then my grandfather would see just how indispensable she really was.”

  “And if in so doing she happened to screw up my life, that would just be icing on the cake.” I nodded, most of the pieces falling neatly into place, but there was still a big one missing. I took a sip of vodka and took the plunge. “What I don’t understand is how exactly Diana found out about my interest in Philip. I mean, I might be a small-time celebrity, but my movements are hardly front-page news.”

  “That part was totally my fault.” He sighed, leaning back. “I told my mother. I was just telling her about you. And your show is part of the package. Anyway, apparently she shared the conversation with my aunt.”

  “And your aunt told Diana,” I said, finishing the thought.

  “Actually, she was there. My mother just didn’t realize that she was delivering you into the hands of your enemy.”

  “So let’s see if I’ve got this straight,” I said, my mind spinning. “You told your mother about the girl you were dating. She shared the information with her sister. And out of all that Diana winds up with a nugget that looks to set her up as a winner with your grandfather and ruin my life as an extra bonus.”

  “That’s pretty much it in a nutshell.” He shrugged.

  “So how did you figure it all out?” I asked, my heart doing somersaults over the fact that Ethan hadn’t intentionally torpedoed my life. My brain countering with the fact that if he’d just been honest with me about Diana everything would have played out differently.

  “I can be pretty dogged when I put my mind to something,” he said. “And I wanted to be able to prove to you that I hadn’t betrayed your trust.”

  “After the things I said to you, I’m surprised it mattered all that much.”

  “You know it matters,” he said, his words sending a shiver running down my spine. “Anyway, if I’d told you Diana was my cousin when the opportunity first arose, maybe none of this would have happened.”

  “You should have told me. But considering the situation with Diana and the way I flew off the handle this afternoon, I can understand why you didn’t.”

  “That’s not an excuse. The truth is that I was protecting my own interests. But you have to know I never meant for any of this to happen.”

  “If I hadn’t engaged her in the first place, it probably wouldn’t have. I shouldn’t have made Mardi Gras the target of my anger. So part of the blame is mine. I know better than to try and exact revenge
. It always backfires. Except, apparently, for Diana.”

  “I wouldn’t say that,” Ethan said with the shadow of a smile. “She threw around the company’s name without any kind of authorization. And she threatened the business relationship Mathias has with DuBois. My grandfather is not about to let that go unpunished.”

  “So maybe what goes around does come around.”

  “Maybe. Although to be honest, I don’t know that I care all that much about what happens to Diana. I’m more concerned about where you and I go from here.”

  Now there was the million-dollar question.

  “I said some awful things.”

  “With provocation,” he acknowledged.

  “Yes. But you’re right, I should have given you the benefit of the doubt. At least long enough to let you try and explain things.”

  “If you had, I’m not sure that it would have gone any differently. I didn’t even know about Diana at that point. So all I could have done is work to convince you that I wasn’t the one who’d talked to DuBois.”

  “It shouldn’t have been so easy. To mess things up between us, I mean.”

  “Well, in the end, it wasn’t, was it? I mean, we’re both still here.”

  “I suppose so.” The glimmer of hope blossomed into full flame.

  “So we’re going to be okay?”

  I nodded, certain that that was what I wanted, but not completely sure it was possible. “I won’t stand for you lying to me again.”

  “But I didn’t really lie,” Ethan said. “It was only an omission.”

  “That’s just semantics and you know it,” I said, shaking my head. “If this is going to work, I need you to promise me—no more lies. By omission or anything else.”

  He paused, and I held my breath, heart hammering. “Ethan, is there something else I should know?”

  He waited a beat and then shook his head. “Nothing of consequence. Honestly.”

  I wasn’t sure it was exactly the answer I’d been looking for, but there was no questioning his sincerity, and it wasn’t as if I was without blame. At least a little.