Molly Matthews Meddles in Marriage

by Jill Steeples

  “Good. It’s been going good.” He nodded, distracted, before he leaned forward in his chair and ran his hand down the sleeve of her dress, his fingers gently massaging the fabric. It was only the slightest of touches but it sent shivers down her spine. “You know, that color really suits you. It complements your skin tone and your hair. Lovely.” He gave a sigh of appreciation before sitting back, his gaze now roving all around her, as she felt the heat from his compliment make a steady progression from her chest up into her cheeks.

  “Thank you.” She shifted in her seat to mask her discomfort. “Right, well I’ve had feedback from all of the women you met up with and, unsurprisingly”—she allowed herself the smallest of smiles—“they’ve all indicated that they would like to meet up with you again for a second date.”

  “Hey.” He threw his hands up in the air, grinning broadly. “It’s good to know that I haven’t lost my touch.”

  “Rory!” Her tone was much sharper than she’d intended. “Would you please take this seriously? What’s more surprising is when I look at your feedback forms, it seems you’ve indicated no desire to meet any of those dates again?”

  “Er, no.”

  Molly waited, tilting her head to one side, inviting more elaboration. But there was none. Just a big fat no. No explanation, no apology, no suggestions.

  “All of those dates are lovely girls, beautiful, talented, funny. I know because I’ve spent time with them. I can understand you maybe not hitting it off with a couple of them, but to dismiss them all out of hand without even considering a second date seems strange to me.”

  “Yeah, sorry about that. Strange? Yep, I might have to give you that. To add to all my other dubious personality traits.”

  She sighed audibly and may have even rolled her eyes, much to her shame. Only Rory could get her acting so unprofessionally. Only Rory could be so stubborn, could infuriate her to such extremes and could have her believing she really ought to give up this matchmaking lark and find something more satisfying to do. Like sheep-shearing or scrubbing floors or chopping trees.

  She took a deep breath.

  “Well, it would be helpful to know why you feel this way about these particular dates so that I can bear it in mind when arranging any future meetings for you. Let’s take Melissa, for example.”

  “Melissa?” he asked, his expression blank. Is he being deliberately awkward? she wondered.

  “Yes, Melissa. She was your first date. Tall girl with lovely long blonde hair.”

  “Ahhh yes,” said Rory, pointing a finger in the air triumphantly as if he’d recalled a long-forgotten event from years ago, not a date from just the other week. “Lovely girl, but, um, a teensy bit dull.”

  “Dull? Are you serious? She’s a research scientist, has traveled the world extensively and goes mountain climbing on the weekends. You could describe Melissa as any number of things, but dull isn’t one of them.”

  “Hmmm, I suppose one person’s dull is another person’s interesting.”

  “Okay,” she said, deciding not to rise to the bait. “What about Hannah? She was your second date. Short brown hair in a bob.” A brief description might help with Rory’s short-term memory problem.

  He pulled a face.

  “Lovely girl again, but that voice!” He shuddered exaggeratedly. “She just didn’t stop talking from the moment we met until the moment she left. And that annoying little laugh. Sorry, it drove me to distraction.”

  “I see,” said Molly, knowing exactly what he meant about Hannah’s laugh, but opting to keep a dignified silence. “And what about Amy then? What was wrong with her?” She couldn’t keep a lid on her exasperation. All the girls were gorgeous, interesting individuals and yet Rory was still able to find fault with them all.

  “Nothing wrong with Amy. Good-looking girl. Funny. Vivacious.”

  “But?” interjected Molly, knowing there would have to be one.

  “She wasn’t a doggy person.”

  “She wasn’t? Did you ask her then?”

  “No, she made some disparaging comment about dogs being smelly. The way she crinkled her perky little nose up in disgust, well, it was a no-go from that point on. Besides, she would never have got past Bella. Dogs have an inner sense for these sorts of things.”

  She sighed and helped herself to an intricate puff pastry concoction from the plate of delights that had been discreetly laid before them. The thin layers melted on her tongue as a cornucopia of flavors exploded in her mouth. She sighed again, this time in gastronomic delight.

  So not only would Molly’s selections have to pass muster with Rory, but she also had to make sure the dog approved as well. What chance did she have?

  It was the same story as far as the other three girls were concerned. Lovely girls, so Rory said, but there were plenty of good reasons why he wouldn’t be able to see any of them again.

  He wasn’t looking for a bride. He was in search of something unattainable, a female superhero or a goddess or, at the very least, a heavenly creature. Sadly Molly had run right out of those on her books.

  She closed her folder, not quite ready to admit defeat with Rory.

  “Are you certain you don’t want to see any of the girls again for a second date? A few hours isn’t really long enough to know whether you might get on with someone or not.”

  “Really? I think it’s more than enough time. If that initial spark isn’t there, you can’t force it. Don’t you agree?”

  She sighed and took another appetizer. They were taunting her with their deliciousness, just as Rory was taunting her with his words, and she was finding them both increasingly hard to resist. Besides, she needed all the comfort and sustenance she could get at the moment.

  “In my experience you need to keep an open mind about these things. It’s not like walking into a club and seeing a woman you fancy and falling for her instantly. After all, isn’t that the reason you’re using my services? So that I can help put you in touch with people you may not normally come into contact with.”

  Rory shrugged, seemingly unimpressed. He sat back in his chair, his long legs outstretched in front of him, his hand resting on his chin.

  “Is that your personal experience or your professional experience?”

  She bristled at his bare-faced cheek.

  “My professional experience, of course. Which is what you’re paying me for after all, Rory.”

  “Oh, come on, Molls, you know how it works. Boy meets girl. Boy fancies girl. With any luck girl fancies boy too and then, woohoo, you might have something going on. But if that initial spark isn’t there, if there’s no chemistry, you can’t make it happen, even if they do happen to share a passionate interest in the life cycle of the purple-spotted snail.”

  She took another sip of wine, its effect on her head immediate and alarming. Again, Rory seemed to be lagging behind in the drinking stakes, alternating his wine with sips of mineral water. A warm fuzziness seeped from her mind along the entire length of her body. She was putting it down to the Orvieto, but it might well have been the Rory effect. The sight of those large plump cushions in the womblike room only added to her sleepy haze. She could have quite easily kicked off her shoes and nestled down for a snooze. Preferably in Rory’s arms. It had been a long week and it wasn’t over yet. She still had Rory to deal with.

  “Well, that’s where I disagree. A partnership based on mutual interests, understanding and respect has much more chance of standing the test of time than a fling based purely on…on lust.”

  For some reason that seemed to amuse him, but Molly was warming to her subject.

  “Forgive me, Rory, but perhaps that’s why your relationships haven’t worked out in the past. You’ve admitted yourself that there have been plenty of girlfriends, but none of them have lasted any length of time. Maybe you’ve been choosing girlfriends based on their looks and once that initial attraction wears off and you find you have nothing in common, your interest wanes.”

  He narrowed his eyes
, his lips pursed as if contemplating her statement.

  “Do you think there might be something in that?” she added, only to fill the silence.

  “And would that be your personal experience too, Molly?” he said, sidestepping her question. He shuffled his chair to one side, edging toward Molly, the table no longer a barrier between them. He leaned forward, resting his elbows on his thighs, his hands cupped around his face as he looked deep into her eyes. “Don’t tell me you haven’t experienced that rush, that tingling through your body when you see someone and think ‘oh yes’. You share a look, the one that lasts a moment too long, and you’re filled with a sense of hope and wonder, that you might, just might, be on the brink of something special.”

  Oh, dear God. Her insides swirled a trail of delight from her tummy downward. If only he knew. She’d felt that rush before, yes, the same rush that she was feeling right now. The out-of-control heartbeat, the sweet sting of vulnerability in her cheeks, the damp, sweaty palms, but before it had only ever left her feeling ridiculous and disappointed. Ridiculously disappointed. Most times those feelings weren’t reciprocated and she was left nursing a crush that served only to reinforce her feelings of aloneness.

  And she had no right to be experiencing those kinds of feelings now, about a client as well!

  It might be all right for the likes of Rory and her sister, Natalie. Those naturally beautiful types to whom other people gravitated, she was sure they were used to being on the receiving end of that thunderbolt of attraction, but it wasn’t like that for Molly, or for most other people, she’d come to realize. That was one of the reasons she’d set up her marriage bureau in the first place.

  She felt a sharp pang remembering Paul. Once upon a time she’d felt those heights of emotions for him and for everything they’d shared together. Besotted hadn’t even come close and she’d been so wrapped up in the strength of her own feelings that she’d naturally assumed he must have been experiencing the same thing too. Only he hadn’t. Everything she thought they’d shared had been a figment of her imagination. So why then, as she’d asked herself so many times over the years, had he dated her for five years and even asked her to marry him, in a roundabout way, if he hadn’t loved her? He certainly hadn’t loved her enough to want to see it through to the end.

  That final damning revelation that he had always held a torch for her sister had tarnished the memory of all the good times they’d shared together, making her question her own judgment. Had she been so blinded by love that she hadn’t even been able to pick up on those signs? He’d had the hots for Natalie, which wasn’t so surprising. Everybody loved Natalie, Molly was used to that, but couldn’t she have hoped that her own boyfriend would have saved all his adoration and love for Molly alone? Didn’t she deserve that?

  One thing was for sure, she would never put herself in that position again.

  “All I’m saying is that sometimes I think it’s better if you don’t rush into these things, but that you let things develop naturally. A slow burn can be more rewarding than a heated rush.” Although as she said the words, she realized with a heavy heart that the slow burn she’d had with Paul had deteriorated into a damp squib.

  Rory’s eyebrows shot up, the deep pools of blue molten liquid beneath sparkling with amusement.

  “Well, you’re the expert in these matters, Molly. I know I haven’t got off to the best start here and I can see that you’re disappointed in me.” He gave her the puppy dog look, the one that played havoc with her insides. “But I have every faith in your abilities. I know you’ll find me the woman of my dreams.”

  Was he mocking her? She certainly didn’t feel like an expert. Not sitting here in front of Rory. She felt completely out of her depth, like a charlatan pretending to be something she wasn’t. And the way he observed her with that deep penetrating gaze, a quietly amused expression on his face, made her feel as if he could see right through her.

  Did she have any hope of ever finding Rory a wife?

  Admittedly the marriage bureau had been more successful than she could ever have imagined. You only needed to look at her photo board in the office of all the wedding days she’d played a part in arranging to see that she’d made a difference, that all her hard work had been worthwhile. But that didn’t mean she knew anything about love or held any great insights about relationships. If that was the case, then why hadn’t she’d seen the cracks in her relationship with Paul before they’d imploded? And why had she been stupid enough to believe that any man would be satisfied with her after having met her beautiful little sister?

  The fact of the matter was, sitting here with Rory, it suddenly occurred to her just how little she did know.

  “I don’t know, perhaps an Internet dating agency would suit you better after all? One where you can climb online and see photos of potential dates for yourself so you can get an idea as to whether or not they have that necessary spark that you’re looking for.”

  Now it was Rory sighing in exasperation.

  “It isn’t all about that, as you well know. And if you think I’m shallow enough to choose a partner based purely on what she looks like then you’re very much mistaken. And you’re seriously underestimating me, Molly.” She heard the admonition in his voice. “What I’m talking about is that connection you feel when you meet someone and hit it off straight away. You must know what I’m talking about. It doesn’t just happen with women, it happens with men as well. You meet someone and you know immediately that person could be your friend. That’s certainly how it was when Marco and I first met.”

  “Did I hear my name mentioned?” At that moment, Marco Faro bowled through the door in his chef’s whites, his distinctive wayward curls held in place by a bright red bandana, looking as if he’d just strolled off the front of one of his cookery books. “Rory!” He enveloped his friend in a bear hug, slapping him heartily on the back. After a few moments, he pulled free from the embrace.

  “And you must be Molly? Enchanted!” he said, picking up her hand and placing a kiss on her fingertips. “I’ve heard all about you.”

  “You have?” She didn’t know what surprised her more, the fact that her culinary idol was standing as large as life in front of her or the fact that a world-famous actor, renowned for his good looks and charm, had gone to all this trouble for her.

  “Marco, it’s such a pleasure to meet you!” she managed, feeling ridiculously star-struck as she tried to ignore the goosebumps running the length of her arms. As far as she was concerned, Marco was a legend. As well as having all his cookbooks on her shelves, she’d watched all his programs too, but she could never have imagined that she would ever meet the man, let alone sample his world-famous cuisine. And he was even more charming in the flesh than when he appeared on screen.

  “I hope you enjoyed the food.” He smiled, gesturing toward the two large, now empty, platters. “Rory said you would only need something light.” It was true, the two most eligible men in the country had been in cahoots about her!

  “Oh, it was absolutely perfect, just right,” said Molly truthfully. Her mouth had seemed to set into a permanent wide smile.

  “Good,” he said, sounding as though her opinion actually mattered to him. “I’ll get some puddings sent through, but next time you must promise you’ll get Rory to bring you for dinner.”

  “I’d love to,” she said, laughing, totally taken aback, the words escaping her mouth before she’d even had chance to consider what she was saying.

  The fact that Marco thought it perfectly natural to extend an invitation to them both as though they were a proper couple filled her with a warm sense of hope. A hope that she had no right to entertain, but one she couldn’t banish from her mind. An image of a future that included Rory in her life flashed into her mind and her heart soared at the possibility.

  “Well, if you’ll excuse me. It’s pretty busy out there tonight, but I just wanted to pop in and say hello. But I’ll see you again, right?” He turned to Rory on his way out.
“Give me a call soon.”

  That was what he loved about Molly. Her complete lack of guile. There was no pretense, no side, she was simply Molly and Rory suspected she wouldn’t be able to hide her true feelings even if she wanted to. Every emotion touched her features, flickering in those hugely expressive eyes and around that gorgeous, generous mouth as she spoke, even reaching her hands as she waved them about in front of her as she struggled to find that elusive word.

  The surprise and delight on her face when Marco had walked through the door had been magical to observe. Like watching a child come face-to-face with Santa Claus. He’d been so swept up by her enthusiasm that he’d wanted to wrap her in his arms and share it with her too. It had taken all his resolve not to.

  And it made a welcome change from the disapproval he’d been on the receiving end of tonight. It wasn’t a deliberate ploy on his part to annoy Molly, but he seemed to have an unerring knack for doing so. And amusing as it was for him to see those flashes of emotion, the pinkness of her cheeks offsetting the glorious red of her hair and watching the fire burn in her eyes as she gamely defended her position, he’d much rather see those eyes shine with happiness. He’d had a small taste of that and it had given him such a warm and satisfying feeling deep inside that it was something he wanted to repeat. Again and again.

  “Okay,” she said, with what seemed like new resolve, her cheeks still shining brightly since the appearance of Marco. “It’s back to the drawing board. You’ve given me plenty to think about tonight and hopefully I’ll be able to arrange some more dates for you soon. And find that special person for you with that necessary spark.”

  She was smiling at him, the previous animosity between them now forgotten.

  “I’m not a difficult man to please, Molly, despite what you think. I’m not looking for a rocket scientist or a beauty queen or the perfect Stepford wife. All I’m looking for is a nice, ordinary girl. Someone I can click with. The girl next door, I suppose.”