He deliberately made his way to a case filled with earrings instead. “Don’t be ridiculous. People with piles of money never die alone. They have staff.”
His mother came up beside him. “We’re not pressuring you.” She peered at the rows of silver bangles. “Although I should point out that one of my hopes was to see all of my children happily married before I leave this earth.”
“Belle might like a necklace,” Flynn said, ignoring his mother’s hints. He gestured to a man standing behind one of the counters. “Do you have any topaz pendants?”
The man smiled and seemed to sense his desperation. He swept over to Flynn and showed him several topaz pendants and their matching earrings. Flynn fingered a pendant with a blue stone surrounded by diamond chips. The stone was the same color as the sea. He could imagine that necklace resting in the hollow of Belle’s throat.
“It’s your six-month anniversary; you should splurge,” Paige whispered. “Get her the earrings, too.”
For some ridiculous reason, he did. Belle hadn’t really expected him to buy her anything. She’d only wanted to make him feel foolish when he was forced to come up with some excuse for not buying her anything. Finding an excuse would have been easy enough. He could have insisted that he’d already bought her a present, for starters.
Instead he found himself buying jewelry she probably wouldn’t accept even if he did give it to her. Worse, he kept imagining how it would feel to brush his fingers along her neck while he did the clasp. She’d lift up her hair and look at him from beneath her lashes.
Maybe his mother was right about one thing: He’d been working too hard. It was time he found a girlfriend.
He would put that on his to-do list as soon as he got back home.
Chapter 13
Belle thought of Marco while she showered, let the idea of him float through her mind. It was only the idea of him, because his image had become strangely blurry in her head. Every time she tried to conjure up the sight of him in the lobby, casually walking toward the elevator—his hair scruffy and a two-day beard on his chin—she saw his brother instead.
Flynn’s short hair glistening with water as he grinned at her on the beach. Flynn’s eyes watching her as she danced the night before. Flynn with the moonlight behind him, leaning down to kiss her.
She supposed it shouldn’t have been a surprise, really. She’d spent so much time with him, but had only a fleeting minute with Marco. Of course her thoughts of Marco were getting mixed up with his twin. That would change as soon as she saw Marco again. And she didn’t want to wait until Saturday, couldn’t stand the thought of wandering the resort by herself until then.
Under the terms of their agreement, she could talk to Marco. She hadn’t promised Flynn not to. And it would be best if she saw him when he wasn’t with his family. After all, even though he hadn’t recognized her last night, she shouldn’t pretend that she didn’t know him. He was bound to recognize her eventually. The name would click, and then everything would get awkward and suspicious. What if, in the middle of a family dinner, Marco suddenly realized who she was, and she’d never mentioned to him that they’d been friends in college?
So she would find Marco, tell him who she was, and let him know that Flynn would explain everything on Saturday morning. Until then, she’d simply have to be mysterious. But friendly. And a little bit charming.
She put on a pale yellow sundress and a white straw hat with Audrey Hepburn aspirations. Then she went down to the ocean. Mrs. Dawson had claimed this was a beach day, but Marco wasn’t there. She went back to the resort sauntered out by the pools, then through the hotel shops. No sign of him anywhere.
At five-thirty, she took one of her sketchbooks and some colored pencils and sat out by the pool near the grill. Marco would come here eventually. Hopefully before anyone else. If Flynn and the rest of his family arrived first, Belle could produce the sketchbook to back up her claim of working.
She drew an ocean-blue dress with a tight bodice that dropped snuggly to the hips then splashed out at the knees into foamy, pale blue waves. When she finished, she frowned at the drawing. Even as a rough first sketch, it lacked the feel she’d been going for. She wanted to convey the majesty of the ocean, but had achieved only a passably pretty dress.
Should she go for something more dramatic? Something with a few more layers of scalloped chiffon?
She drew a whimsical green skirt with a turtle shell pattern and paired it with a blouse that had sleeves in the shape of fins. Nope. Too kitschy. Clothes should make a woman feel magical, confident that she could achieve anything.
This time as Belle’s pencil stroked across the page, she spent more time on the woman wearing the dress. She never sketched faces, just rough outlines, sometimes with hairstyles, as she imagined whether the outfit would work best with hair up or down. Now she drew a figure representing herself. She penciled her long blonde tresses, then sketched Marco standing next to her in a suit. She gave the figure his square jaw, dimpled chin, firm cheekbones.
Tapping her pencil against the sketchbook, she let her mind roam through possibilities. If the two of them had met at some posh event, what would she have wished she’d worn? How would she want him to see her?
She drew a blue dress that faded to light teal at the top, the way the water did. She drew an outer skirt made of sheer, filmy turquoise. That way, when the dress moved, the color would shift between light and dark blue, like undulating waves.
Beautiful. She could use this in her next summer line. She drew a starfish at her figure’s feet then doodled a shooting star in the sky.
“Belle, is it?” Marco’s voice cut into her musings. It had to be Marco, Flynn wouldn’t have asked.
She looked up, a smile already on her lips. “Yes.”
He stood a few feet away. Scruffy hair, still unshaved, and wearing sunglasses—gorgeous in a way that made Belle’s heart stutter. She didn’t blatantly stare at him, though she wanted to. A couple of older men were with him, one with receding blond hair, the other with graying brown.
“I thought so,” Marco said. Then, by way of introduction to the other men, he said, “This is Flynn’s girlfriend, Belle…” He dragged the word out, waiting for her to produce a last name.
She didn’t. Instead, she stood and offered her hand. “It’s nice to meet you.”
The blond man pumped her hand enthusiastically. “Glad you could come out and meet the family. I’m Brady, Flynn’s father. This is my brother-in-law Bob.”
“Howdy,” the brown-haired man said with a half-salute. “We’ve been telling Flynn for years he needs to find a nice girl. Glad he finally has.”
Their friendliness made her feel like she was lying. “Thanks.” Was there a way she could get Marco alone? More importantly, when they finally had a private moment, what would she say? While looking for him earlier, she’d gone over possibilities, but none of them seemed like the right thing to say now.
Isn’t it a small world? We went to college together… Too casual. The words sounded as though their friendship hadn’t meant much to her, as though it was only worth mentioning in passing.
Do you really not recognize me? That sounded like an accusation. Although if she said it with the right inflection, in a way that sounded as if she thought it was funny rather than insulting, it could work.
“Where’s Flynn?” Marco asked, scanning the pool area.
“He went to the silver factory with your mom and sisters.”
“We’d better not wait on them for dinner,” Marco said. “If they’re shopping, they may never come back.”
Mr. Dawson pulled out his cell phone. “Naw, your mother is only good for an hour or two these days before she has to rest. She’s probably back in the room, lying down.” He dialed a number. “I’ll check.”
Belle looked at Marco, saw that he was watching her. Was he appraising her as sister-in-law material or trying to place her? She wanted to say something to him but couldn’t pull off the lighthearted
tone she needed for Do you really not recognize me?
Bob took a few steps toward the pool. “Tyler and Jake are over by the slides with their kids. I’ll go to tell them it’s time for dinner.” He headed that way.
“Tell them they have about ten more minutes,” Mr. Dawson called after him. “No point getting them out until their mothers are here to—” He broke off to talk on the phone, “Lynette? Are you up to dinner?” He turned away to speak to her, leaving Marco and Belle alone. Or at least, as alone as they were likely to be tonight.
Her words were still fluttering around in her mouth, unsure of themselves.
Marco smiled at her in a good-natured fashion. “Go ahead and tell me.”
She froze. “Tell you what?” What did he know?
“How much I look like Flynn. We get it all the time. People can’t help staring at us.”
And that was the difference between Marco and Flynn. Marco assumed people were staring at him because he was an identical twin. Flynn knew the real reason women stared at him.
“You never told me you had a twin,” she said quietly.
He cocked his head, confused. “I assumed you figured it out in the lobby last night. Most people get it right off.”
Her first attempt at appearing mysterious and charming wasn’t going well. He was looking at her like she was stupid.
“Do you really not recognize me?” she asked. And it wasn’t lighthearted, despite her best efforts.
“Should I?” His eyebrows lifted. “Have we met before?”
“Yes.” She waited for recognition to flash through his eyes. “In fact, when I first met Flynn, I thought he was you, and he didn’t correct me.” She waited to see if the meaning of her words sank in. Would he figure out that she’d been interested in Flynn because she’d thought he was Marco?
Nope. No understanding crossed his face.
“Where did we meet before?” he asked, his gaze traveling over her for clues.
“WSU.”
“Really? You’re a wazzu grad, too?” His eyes lit up. “Did we have a class together?”
“Physical science.”
He nodded as if the mystery were solved and needed no further delving into. “Physical science, the class that took the secrets of the universe and transformed them into boring painful homework. I remember it well.”
Clearly not as well as he supposed. His lack of recognition no longer felt like a compliment. Instead, he seemed to be saying that she’d been completely forgettable, not worth a second thought.
Marco slipped his hands into his pockets. “So Flynn pretended to be me when you first met?”
“Yep.”
An ocean breeze reached them, tousling Marco’s hair. “I’d apologize for his stealing my identity, but since you’re dating him now, things must not have turned out too badly.”
She wasn’t sure how to answer that.
Marco gave her a teasing smile. “Hopefully while he was impersonating me, he made me look cool and debonair. After all, I’ve got a reputation to maintain.”
“He was pure charm. Although the night did end with me slapping him.”
Marco laughed, a melodic sound that had always stolen her attention. “Been there, done that. Sounds like a good story. I want details.”
She couldn’t outright tell him the full story, but she didn’t want to lie to him, either. “It’s … complicated.”
“Complicated?” Marco repeated, intrigued.
“Flynn will explain everything to you on Saturday morning.”
“You mean he’s going to make some kind of relationship announcement?”
That was the moment Mr. Dawson decided to turn back from his phone call and tune in. “Who’s making a relationship announcement?”
“Belle and Flynn on Saturday morning,” Marco answered.
This had gone horribly wrong. And the situation was made worse by the delighted expression on Mr. Dawson’s face. “That’s great! Lynette will be thrilled.”
“Uh, no,” Belle sputtered. “It’s not that type of announcement.”
“Don’t worry,” Mr. Dawson said with a chuckle. “Marco and I won’t let the cat out of the bag.” He zipped his lips. “Mum’s the word.”
Mum was not the word Belle was thinking of. Her words were of a stronger variety, none fit to say out loud. How could she fix this?
“Belle?” Flynn called from behind her. He didn’t sound happy that she was here. Which made two of them because at the moment she was very unhappy to be here.
She slowly turned around to face him. He was walking alongside his mother, while his sisters headed toward the far side of the pool to fetch their children.
“Oh good,” Mrs. Dawson said, making her way over. “You were able to come after all. Did you finish your project?”
“Actually, no.” Belle said. “I really should go back to my room and work on it.” She picked up her sketchbook and pencils. “I was just leaving.”
“You can’t.” Mrs. Dawson’s voice was unconvinced, injured, almost. “Not before you have something to eat.”
“Flynn will bring me something later. I’ll be fine.” Belle’s gaze cut over to him. He was looking at Marco, noting how close he stood to Belle. A muscle pulsed in his cheek.
Mrs. Dawson lowered herself into a chair. “There’s no sense in waiting for dinner when we’re all here now.” She gestured to Flynn. “Put Belle’s order in now so it will be ready first.” To Belle she said, “The nachos are a meal by themselves, but if you want something lighter, the taco salad is wonderful. I always order it with shredded chicken.”
“Um…” Belle felt trapped. She had no reasonable excuse to keep insisting she leave. “Uh, sure. The taco salad sounds good.”
“Come with me to the grill.” Flynn took hold of her hand, not giving her a choice. He pulled her along with him toward the building.
When they were out of earshot he said, “What did you say to Marco?”
She didn’t want to answer, and not only because she knew he’d be angry. She didn’t want to admit she’d told Marco that he knew her—and he still hadn’t recognized her.
Seriously, had Marco ever taken a good look at her in college? Even if her appearance had changed, her voice was the same. Shouldn’t hearing her speak have rung some bells?
“What did you say?” Flynn repeated.
“That we went to WSU together.”
“You told him who you were?” Flynn asked, incredulous.
“No. I told him we had a class together.” She cleared her throat uncomfortably. “He still doesn’t know who I am.”
“He didn’t figure it out from that?” Flynn was still incredulous. She couldn’t blame him.
“Apparently not.”
Flynn lowered his voice. “You tried to tell him who you were—after you agreed not to.”
“No, I agreed not to flirt with him, and I didn’t. I had to tell him that I know him. Any moment now, he’s going to realize who I am, and when that happens, it would seem really odd if I never mentioned anything about us being friends before.”
“What makes you think he’ll suddenly realize who you are?”
“Pointless optimism, probably.” She cast a glance at Marco in the distance. He was talking to his mother, oblivious. “That, and an overestimation of men, I suppose.”
They went around the side of the building where the order window was, but stopped a few feet away, not moving closer as they finished talking.
The muscle was pulsing in Flynn’s cheek again. “You shouldn’t have come here tonight. You could have just avoided Marco until Saturday, and then neither of us would have to worry about it until then.”
“Well, I didn’t.”
“No, you didn’t.”
She debated telling him that his father and Marco now thought he’d be making a relationship announcement Saturday morning, but judging from the hard set of his mouth, he wouldn’t take that news well.
Flynn glanced back the way they’d come.
“So now you’ll need to eat your salad, make your excuses, and disappear until Saturday.”
He stepped toward the order window. She took his arm to stop him. “Why can’t you just tell Marco who I am tonight? If he’s interested in me, we can make sure we’re discreet. Your parents won’t find out about the divorce.”
“That’s not what we agreed to.”
She didn’t let go of his arm. “The longer we lie to him, the harder and more awkward it’s going to get.”
“Not for me,” Flynn said, unconcerned. “I’m fine with lying to him.”
Belle planted herself in front of him. “When Saturday comes, how are you going to explain everything?”
“I’ll just tell him,” Flynn said as though it were obvious.
Belle didn’t move out of the way. “What will you say exactly? I don’t want you to make me look stupid.”
“I haven’t planned it out yet, but I won’t make you look stupid.”
She pressed her lips together. “You’re going to make me look super easy then, aren’t you? Marco will think I make out with any old acquaintance I run into.”
Flynn lifted his hands in frustration. “What do you want me to say? That you’ve been in love with him all this time?”
“No, that sounds pathetic.”
Flynn’s gaze bore into hers. “Yeah. There’s a reason it sounds pathetic.”
She let out an offended breath. “Are you saying I’m pathetic?”
Something flashed in his eyes. Exasperation, maybe. “Oh, no. It’s perfectly normal for you to still have feelings for the guy who married your best friend seven years ago. Happens all the time. What did you want to drink with your salad?”
“It isn’t like that,” she insisted. “I mean, not exactly.”
“Right. A Sprite it is then.”
He moved to go around her, but she took hold of his arm again. “You can’t blame me. Marco’s just so…” What was the right word? “So perfect.”
Flynn stared at her, then sighed. “Your problem is that you’ve put Marco on a pedestal that’s way too high. As his brother, I can tell you that he has plenty of faults. In fact, sometimes he can be a downright jerk.”
How I Met Your Brother (Power of the Matchmaker) Page 11