Molly Matthews Meddles in Marriage

by Jill Steeples

  He detected the rueful smile on her lips and the slight coloring of her cheeks. She knew that he could so easily have been talking about her. Because she was everything any man could hope for in a woman. She was funny, smart and beautiful, and what made her even more special was her complete lack of awareness that she was any of those things.

  What kind of guy, he wondered, did such a great hatchet job on her that she has no idea of her own feminine power?

  Why didn’t he just throw in the towel here and admit to Molly his growing feelings? It wasn’t like him to hold back, not where a beautiful woman was concerned, but he suspected if he did, Molly’s sense of righteousness would boot him of her premises before he could persuade her otherwise.

  And Molly might think otherwise, but she and Rory had clicked from the very beginning. She might consider him to be an arrogant, spoiled playboy and he might wind her up with his very presence and the banter between them might volley to and fro, but aside from all of that, there was a definite little spark there. Well, a huge, big flame as far as he was concerned. He just wished Molly would recognize it too.

  “Your girl next door?” she said, as though she’d had a revelation. “I’ll see what I can do.”

  Her eyes shone bright and full of good intention and suddenly it wasn’t Molly standing in front of him, but Emma. His very own girl next door who’d lived in the cottage next door to the rambling family home he’d grown up in on the village green overlooking the duck pond. Emma Taylor was the bane of his life from about the age of six. She was always there, like the freckles across the bridge of her nose and the untidy pigtails, making a nuisance of herself, tagging along behind him. When he’d gone off to boarding school, he’d hardly given her a second thought, but she was still there when he’d come home again, minus the pigtails and with the freckles now covered with makeup.

  The day his mum died, leaving him and his dad rattling around in that huge, soulless house, not knowing what do with themselves, Emma had brought fairy cakes, haphazardly decorated with pink icing.

  They’d gone untouched and moldy before they’d even considered throwing them out, but the gesture had been a lovely one, the memory of which even now could make tears prick at the back of his eyes.

  He shook his head. Where the hell had that suddenly come from? He hadn’t thought about Emma in years. He picked up his glass and downed the remains of his wine. Maybe it hadn’t been one of his better suggestions. The trouble with the girl-next-door type was that they had a habit of blossoming into beautiful butterflies and finally spreading their wings.

  Chapter Six

  When Alice walked into the marriage bureau on that Tuesday morning, Molly almost whooped with delight, only just managing to keep a lid on her excitement. She knew in an instant that she would be the perfect match for one of her clients. Her most difficult, demanding and decidedly dishy client, Rory. Hooray! Sometimes it was like that. An instinct in your tummy that told you that two people would hit it off famously.

  Molly had been feeling the pressure, especially with Rory’s looming deadline hanging over her.

  Alice was a natural beauty with straight, long blonde hair, a tall, willowy body and a sweet, self-effacing nature. She ran her own craft store and gift shop with only her two black Labradors for company, and admitted she was ready to settle down and start a family.

  “She’s the perfect girl next door,” Molly told Pippa, once Alice had left the office. “Rory’s going to love her. I can see another wedding on the horizon, you mark my words.”

  “Really?” Pippa arched an eyebrow. “And how would you feel about that?”

  Molly bristled, unnerved by Pippa’s knowing gaze.

  “Delighted! Why wouldn’t I? To be honest, the sooner I get Rory married off, the better.”

  “Yeah, whatever you say,” sighed Pippa, sounding unconvinced.

  Molly wasted no time in arranging for Rory to meet up with Alice, but on the night of the date, she felt anything but delighted, only gut-wrenchingly anxious and miserable. At home, watching her favorite film of Rory’s, seeing him playing out intimate love scenes on screen, she wondered if he was doing the same thing right now with Alice. She imagined them laughing, sitting in Marco’s restaurant, exchanging longing looks and flirtatious banter. And she realized right there and then that niggling feeling in the pit of her stomach, which had been there all day, was not anxiety that the pair of them might not hit it off, but a gnawing jealousy that they would!

  She’d broken her number-one cardinal rule, falling for one of her clients. She was furious with herself for allowing it to happen. Rory was a film star. He was used to women falling at his feet, but why she’d allowed herself even the tiniest spark of hope as far as he was concerned, she didn’t know.

  The next day, after a fitful night’s sleep, she picked up the phone to Alice.

  “So, how did it go?” she asked, sounding much brighter than she felt.

  “Oh, it was lovely, simply lovely.” Molly’s stomach clenched, hearing the adoration in Alice’s voice. “Something to tell my grandchildren one day, that’s for sure. I once dated a movie star, even if it was for one night only.”

  “Well, who knows, perhaps last night was just the first of many such dates.”

  “That’s a nice idea, Molly, but I won’t be seeing Rory again.”

  “Oh? Why not? I thought you liked him.”

  “I do. And I’d probably marry him on the spot if he asked me, but that’s never going to happen.” She gave a resigned little laugh. “I was really into Rory, but he wasn’t into me, I’m afraid. Don’t get me wrong, he was perfectly charming, but I could tell his mind was elsewhere. And I’ve had that experience before with ex-boyfriends. Being with someone when they’re hung up on someone else isn’t great and I certainly don’t want to go there again, especially not with a film star, however gorgeous.”

  Molly could sympathize with Alice on that front.

  “Well, I haven’t spoken to Rory yet. We don’t know what his feedback will be.”

  “Trust me. I know. But if you have some other dates for me to go on, preferably not with multitalented movie stars, then I’d be interested.”

  Molly sighed, thankful for Alice’s honesty, but her overwhelming feeling was one of relief. Relief that two of her most eligible clients hadn’t hit it off after all! When you started hoping your clients wouldn’t like each other, then something had to be wrong.

  She loved her job, or at least she had until Rory came along. When everything in her world had become muddied and confused and now she wasn’t sure she’d even be able to find Prince Charming a Cinderella.

  It was no good, her personal feelings were encroaching on her ability to do a good job. There was no way she’d be able to find Rory a bride when all the time she was secretly harboring ridiculous fantasies that she could have him for herself.

  “Thanks for coming in to see me, Rory. Have a seat, please.”

  He was perched on the edge of her desk, far too close for comfort, the air between them tight with tension and heat.

  “Fair enough,” he said, moving. “What’s all this about this then?”

  She focused on the picture of a pot of peonies just to the right of his head. She didn’t want to look into those deep blue eyes, knowing that she’d be lost there, rendering her useless to do anything but nod her head and agree with everything he said.

  “Well, I’ve been reviewing your file, looking at the dates you’ve been on and I’ve come to the reluctant decision that I can’t help you any further in your search for a bride.” Her gaze dared to flitter over his features to catch his reaction, but his face remained impassive.

  When he didn’t say anything, she went on.

  “I’m sorry, Rory, and I’ve never had to do this before, but you must realize your situation, who you are, brings added complications when trying to find you a life partner. I just think this probably isn’t the right way for you. If I can’t do my best by you, then you might be b
etter off considering a different agency. I could give you some recommendations.”

  “Is this about Alice?” he asked tightly.

  “No, not at all. Although I had high hopes that you and her would hit it off. You seemed like a perfect match to me.”

  He gave a dismissive shrug.

  “It was a pleasant enough evening, but she wasn’t for me. There was no spark there for either us.”

  He clearly wasn’t speaking for Alice and any date that a man described as pleasant you just knew hadn’t even got off the starting blocks. Poor Alice, she thought, with a pang of sympathy.

  “That’s the thing, Rory, you’ve exhausted my supply of gorgeous, clever women. I simply don’t have any more to put forward at the moment.”

  “Well, you said yourself that it took a couple of years to find a partner for one of your clients. Maybe it’ll be the same in my case.”

  “Yes, but that client wasn’t working to the same strict time limits as you. He didn’t have a film premiere he needed a date for. He was prepared to wait until the right woman came along.”

  “And I’m prepared to wait too.” He wandered around to Molly’s side of the room, reclaiming his position on her desk, stretching out his long legs and crossing them over at the ankle. “To be honest with you, I’m going to be incredibly busy with rehearsals these next few weeks so I wouldn’t have time for dating anyway. And as far as the premiere is concerned, we’re already fixed, aren’t we, so I don’t need to worry about that.”

  Those eyes were working their magic again as they traveled the length of Molly’s body, before landing on her gaze, challenging her to say anything to the contrary.

  “Oh, Rory, I hope you don’t mean that ridiculous bet we made?”

  “There was nothing ridiculous about it. You said you’d come with me if I hadn’t found someone else in the meantime, so…” He held up his palms to the sky, a smile twisting on his lips.

  “Yes, but…” Yes, but what? She’d only said that in the heat of the moment. She hadn’t expected him to dismiss all those women she’d fixed him up with. She’d never thought for one moment that she’d actually have to go with him.

  Her sharp intake of breath hung heavily in the air. A mix of embarrassment and nervous anticipation filtered through her bones. She laughed it away. “I’m sure one of your actress or model-type friends would like to go with you.”

  “I’m sure they would. But I want you to come with me instead, Molly.”

  His voice had taken on a quiet determination that sent a shiver down her body.

  “It’s hardly appropriate for me to date my clients. That would give out the wrong message entirely.”

  “You are your company, Molly. You make the rules. You can do what you like. Besides, I’m single. You’re single. Where’s the problem?”

  She could think of all sorts of problems.

  Mad thoughts whirled around her mind. A film premiere. How ridiculous was that? The wild excitement tormenting her mind lasted precisely three seconds before it was replaced by a sinking terror. The red carpet, flashing cameras, beautiful, thin people wafting about the place in gorgeous frocks. It sounded like her idea of hell. Only she’d have Rory on her arm and as wrong as it was, she could think of nothing more exhilarating.

  “No problem,” she said nonchalantly. “I’d love to come.”

  * * * *

  “I think he loves you, I think he loves you!” Pippa twirled around the office floor, singing the schoolgirl chant, her excitement evident in her flailing limbs.

  “Stop it!” scolded Molly, who was regretting ever telling Pippa, although not as much as she regretted having got herself into this mess in the first place. She’d wanted to back out even before Rory had waltzed out of the door, but somehow he had a knack of maneuvering her into doing exactly what he wanted her to do. So much for her telling him he was an ex-client. Now he was still a client and she’d agreed to go on a high-profile date with him too.

  He intrigued her, he infuriated her, and also managed to creep beneath her skin, unleashing all those emotions Rory had spoken about earlier, that rush, that tingling, that heightened anticipation every time you were in the presence of that special person. Whether she liked it or not, Molly’s celebrity crush at a distance had developed into a full-on real-time infatuation. And she hated herself for it.

  “Oh, come on,” said Pippa, interrupting her musing, “why else would he have invited you when he could have had the pick of any girl in London?”

  They were Molly’s thoughts exactly, but she wasn’t letting that on to Pippa.

  “I’m just helping him out of a hole, that’s all, and…”

  “Not a very dark hole by the sounds of things. More like a valley of sweet delights. Mmm mmm.”

  “Oh, do shut up, Pippa! He is our client and you know what they say, the client always comes first.”

  “Yeah right,” said Pippa. “What do you reckon, Aaron? Do you think the delectable Mr. Campbell has his eyes set on the main prize, our very own delectable Miss Matthews?”

  “I have no idea. But I do think you should be careful, Molly.” Aaron, who’d popped in for a coffee, was skulking in the corner chair, seemingly oblivious to all the excitement around him. “I don’t trust that Rory Campbell and I would hate for you to end up getting hurt.”

  * * * *

  “How do I look?” It was the day of the premiere and although Molly had been sitting at her desk pretending to work, all she’d managed to do was rearrange her paperclips into one hundred and one different intricate sculptures. When she could contain her excitement no longer, she’d jumped up and ditched her office uniform of black trousers and sensible jumper and replaced them with her favorite aquamarine dress and jacket—the one with the scalloped edges. She’d scrubbed her face clean of makeup, pinned her hair on top of her head and then decided the au naturel look would work better so simply scrunched her hair through her fingers to let the auburn curls hang naturally. Then she reapplied her makeup.

  “You look lovely, just lovely. Doesn’t she, Aaron?”

  “Yeah, great,” he said half-heartedly, barely looking up.

  “Hmm, thanks for the vote of confidence,” Molly sighed.

  “No, really, you look great,” he said, doing nothing to make her feel any better.

  The office only had the tiniest of mirrors, which was housed on the back of a cupboard door, and if she contorted her body first one way and then another, she could just about manage to get a full-length view of her image.

  “I look as though I’m going to a wedding.”

  Pippa laughed.

  “That’s because you’re wearing one of your only two wedding outfits. But that dress is a go-anywhere kind of dress.”

  That’s the trouble, thought Molly. It had been everywhere and back again several times over.

  “Oh, I don’t know. What if they’re all in full-length black strapless gowns, showing off perfectly toned shoulders? Everyone will think I’m someone’s mother.”

  “Well, there’s no time to worry about that now.” Pippa peered out of the window into the busy street below. “Your carriage awaits!”

  “Oh God,” Molly squealed, feeling uncharacteristically ill-prepared for what lay ahead.

  Her heart leaped as she heard Rory fling open the door downstairs and then take the stairs two at a time. She took a deep breath, anticipating his arrival, and then he was there, standing in the doorway to her office, dressed casually in jeans and a black fitted T-shirt, the ridges in his abs clearly defined beneath the clinging cotton fabric.

  Her gaze wandered along the length of his bronzed, sculpted arms before locking on to his eyes, her breath catching at the back of her throat.

  “Hi,” she managed, all other words—along with her sense—escaping her.

  On days like today, Rory wondered how he’d ever gotten to this point in his life. He loved acting, there was never any dispute about that, but all the crap that went alongside it, he loathed.
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  The publicity, the photos, the constant interest in his everyday life with his every movement scrutinized for public consumption made him feel as if he were living in a TV reality show, but however much he hated the attention, he knew it came with the territory.

  The parties and the first nights were something to be endured rather than enjoyed. He’d always made a pretty good job of putting on a show at those events, acting as if he were having the best time ever—such a great job that his grinning face usually ended up on the front of the tabloids the next day.

  Drinking too much and partying way too hard were his ways of getting through. Or at least it had been until now. But tonight he’d have Molly at his side and just the thought gave him a warm feeling of reassurance. For the first time in a long while, he was actually looking forward to his night on the town.

  Even the firing squad welcoming committee of her assistant Pippa and that Aaron guy—the one who always seemed to be hanging around whenever he visited—couldn’t dampen his anticipation.

  They didn’t matter to him because his sole attention was fixed on Molly. His breath caught at the back of his throat and his heart thumped so hard, resounding through his ears, he thought it might explode. An enormous grin spread across his face as he took in the full extent of her beauty before he managed to compose himself and rearrange his features into something approaching normal.

  “Hey, how are you doing?” he said, managing to sound like a second-rate character from one of his early films. “Sorry, I got held up. We’re going to have to drop in at my place so that I can get changed.”

  She looked adorable in a pretty pale green dress with a matching jacket, her warm auburn hair cascading in soft curls around her face. Her porcelain skin dusted with a smattering of freckles only added to her tangible vulnerability. All he wanted to do was reach out and touch her, to feel the softness of her skin beneath his fingers, to run his hand across her face and down her neck, to hold her body within his arms. To hell with the premiere, he would have quite happily taken her straight home to bed.