Kitty Valentine Dates a Best Man

by Jillian Dodd

  “You know what time it is.” Slowly, she raises the spinner, so I can see it.

  “Are you sure you didn’t rig it this time?”

  Last time we spun to see which romantic hero I would write about and therefore date, she’d changed every entry to Best Man, determined to hook me up with the best man at her sister’s wedding.

  Kellen. He was hot and definitely knew what he was doing. That part of things went well. Extremely well actually. We were very compatible.

  It was the whole drama after coming home that put an end to things. Namely the fact that he’d lied to me about his gambling addiction. These past few weeks, I’ve wondered if he’s the reason I was thrown off. It was difficult to end my book with a happy ending, knowing we hadn’t really gotten one.

  I wish him well, and from what I understand, he’s working hard to turn things around.

  And it’s time for me to move on. If only because I need to start writing another book soon.

  And because, let’s face it, if Matt’s getting under my skin, I need to get laid.

  “I didn’t rig it, I promise. Look.” She spins it once and then again. The first time, it lands on Biker—as in motorcycles—and the next time, Chef.

  I snap my fingers and pout. “Darn it. I could go for a sexy scene on top of a prep table.”

  “Who knows? Maybe we’ll land on it again.”

  We do not land on it again.

  What we do land on, however, makes my eyebrows just about shoot up off my head. “Oh, hello.”

  Hayley giggles. “Cowboy! Giddyup, little lady!”

  “Gee, what a terrible job I have.” I pretend to sigh and swoon.

  “Listen, if you’re not up to the challenge, I would be happy to do this for you and tell you about it after our dates.”

  “Oh, you’re such a sweet friend. Do I tell you that often enough?”

  “It’s okay. I don’t do it for the recognition.”

  Once I finish laughing, I shake my head. “Sorry. For this one, my research has to be firsthand. I’ll catch you up on how things go.”

  “You know I’ll be waiting.”

  “Now, the ever-looming question: where will I find this guy? It was one thing when I knew where to find a best man, you know?”

  “You need help? I’ll find you a cowboy.”

  “I love your confidence, but where the heck would you find a cowboy?”

  “I have my ways.” When I roll my eyes, she sticks her tongue out at me. “We have all kinds of clients, remember?”

  “Last time you hooked me up with one of your firm’s clients, it didn’t go so well.”

  She grimaces at the memory. My brief fling with a rock star—a has-been, if I’m being honest—didn’t exactly end well. “We’ll do better this time. Let’s see … cowboys. That makes me think of ranchers and oil tycoons.”

  “Tycoons. That sounds like the sort of client your firm would handle.”

  “I’ll see what I can do. Maybe ask your grandmother if she knows anybody in the oil business too.”

  I wrinkle my nose. “No, thank you. I’m not trying to date somebody who’s decrepit.”

  “Decrepit, old men with money generally have young grandsons, who are prepared to inherit that money,” she points out with a sly wink.

  “Why, Hayley”—I clutch my invisible pearls—“you sound downright mercenary.”

  “Just saying. I’ll take a look at some of our client lists and find out if there’s anybody coming into town anytime soon. I’m sure we can find someone.”

  “We don’t have to do anything, you know. I don’t want you to feel like you have to spend your valuable time working on this.”

  “It’s a diversion. I mean, look what I would be doing otherwise.” She pans the phone’s camera, letting me see the piles of folders and stacks of paper spread out over her coffee table and the floor surrounding it.

  The girl has a way of making me love my job more than I already did. “Is there anything I can do for you? Maybe order you up some dinner or a case of wine or something?”

  “The case of wine sounds pretty good right about now,” she admits. “I’m going to try to take a little time off this weekend. Do you want to catch brunch?”

  “Yes!”

  “Is that enthusiasm for me or for brunch?”

  I wince, squinting my eyes until they’re almost shut. “Both?”

  “Honestly, that’s better than I expected.”

  “The oil business?” Grandmother looks beyond me, over at the wall behind where I’m sitting in her parlor. “Hmm. Do I know anyone …”

  “What’s this about?” Peter joins us with a pot of tea.

  No matter how many times Grandmother reminds him he doesn’t need to act like a paid servant anymore—she’s hired help to replace him now that they’re together as a couple—old habits die hard. He’s used to taking care of her, seeing to her needs. I guess when things have been a certain way for more than thirty years, it’ll take more than a few months to change it up.

  “My new book hero has to be a cowboy,” I explain while he pours for the three of us.

  He gives me a wink. “I didn’t know you rode.”

  “I’m sure I could learn.”

  “The only people I’ve ever known who made their living in oil are long dead,” Grandmother confesses with a shrug.

  I can’t wait to tell Hayley I was right, no matter how immature it makes me. It probably shouldn’t have been my first thought, but a girl has to take her victories someplace, and Hayley is a super genius who’s almost never wrong about anything.

  “I figured it was worth asking.” I pick out an egg salad sandwich with the crusts cut off. “Is this your egg salad recipe?” I ask Peter.

  “Of course. I know better than to try to serve you someone else’s recipe.”

  So, maybe Grandmother isn’t the only person he likes to do little things for.

  “You know”—Grandmother places her cup and saucer on the table between us with a thoughtful expression—“I am chairing a charity ball, scheduled to take place this weekend. It’s for the Children’s Hospital. There are bound to be a few heavy hitters there.”

  Why does Peter look so relieved?

  “That’s a good idea. She could go with you.”

  She turns to him with a frown. “My, it didn’t take long for you to arrive at that conclusion.”

  Whoops. Something tells me there’s been trouble in paradise, and I walked right into it.

  I take a second sandwich just for the sake of having something to do. Good thing they’re so yummy.

  “Don’t be offended.” He pats her hand with a gentle smile. “But we’ve had this discussion. It would be better for you if someone other than myself attended the ball with you.”

  Oh, of course. Yet another issue that won’t magically go away. The fact that Grandmother has already cut people out of her life for being anything less than thrilled when they found out she and Peter started a relationship. I can only hope I’m as kick-ass as she is someday.

  And I very much wish I’d been there when she told off her number one frenemy, Whitney.

  I clear my throat. “I’m always up for a ball.” This is a lie. I don’t love going to these fancy-schmancy events. Usually wondering in the back of my mind how long it’ll take before I do something awkward.

  Not if do. When I do. It’s pretty much inevitable.

  If it gets Peter off the hook though, I’ll gladly go. Not only has he taken care of her all these years, but he’s also made her so happy since they got together after her heart attack a few months ago. Life events like a heart attack tend to put things into perspective and show us what we otherwise were missing.

  Plus, I do need to find a cowboy. Hayley made a good point. Wealthy, old men generally have wealthy grandsons, and it’s the grandsons I’m interested in.

  Grandmother seems to shake herself a little before turning to me, like she forgot I was here. Too busy staring daggers at her boyfriend
. “Well, dear, since it would appear I’m suddenly going solo, I would love to have you there. And even if we don’t land you an oil magnate, there are bound to be scads of wealthy, young men there.”

  I glance at Peter. “Hey, it doesn’t matter if they’re wealthy. I don’t care about that.”

  Like he needs to hear her going on about money right now. Sometimes, she just doesn’t think. I love her to pieces, but she’s not always sensitive to how her comments might be taken.

  It strikes me—and not for the first time—that Peter has to be a brave man. It’s one thing for him to deal with her social circle being a bunch of snobs, but then he has to deal with her, and that can’t be a walk in the park.

  At least he’s used to her ways. He wouldn’t love her if he wasn’t.

  Why does that immediately bring Matt to mind?

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