Fixed Up with Mr. Right?

by Marie Ferrarella

  Until the evidence became so overwhelming and damning that only a first-class fool would have denied it. Her heart all but constricting in her chest, she gave in to the inevitable and had handed Matt his walking papers. Rumor had it that he’d found another warm bed before the day was out.

  Matt always had a way of bouncing back, she thought cynically. While she didn’t bounce so well. After Matt, she had finally admitted that her penchant for picking good-looking scoundrels had to go. The only way she could do that was to turn her back on dating.

  It had been a very long time since she’d entertained the idea of socializing. Pretending to be tough as nails and utterly invulnerable, Kate might have fooled others, but, bravado aside, she couldn’t fool herself.

  And right now, despite everything she vowed to the contrary about this being a professional meeting over dinner, she was scared. Scared of being a fool again. Of leading with something other than her brain and suffering the consequences for it.

  Why was she doing this to herself? she silently demanded of the image in the mirror.

  “You’re not entering a relationship, you’re entering a restaurant to have dinner, that’s it. End of story,” she said out loud, underscoring her agitation. “You’re the one making a big deal out of it. Nobody else is even noticing. Now get dressed and get the hell out of here,” she ordered tersely.

  The woman in the mirror didn’t look convinced.

  With a sigh, Kate shifted so that she could review—for a second time—the haphazard piles of clothing on the bed. Hopefully, she could find something halfway suitable that didn’t require an intimate rendezvous with an iron, something she was less than apt at wielding.

  Just as Kate located an outfit that, upon closer reevaluation, she decided merited a passing grade, she heard her cell phone ring. The sound came from somewhere on the bed—muffled because it was obviously buried beneath layers of fabric.

  “Oh God,” she muttered. Kate began to toss clothes onto the floor in an effort to find the phone before it stopped ringing.

  Maybe it was Jackson, calling to cancel. That would probably be for the best, she told herself. There was no chance of making a tactical error at dinner if there was no dinner.

  But even as she pretended that she welcomed this possible turn of events, she felt the tips of each of her fingers turning cold.

  There was just no winning.

  Just as the song that comprised her ringtone ended, she finally located the phone. Flipping it open, she cried, “Hello, Jackson?” without bothering to glance at the name currently highlighted within the caller-ID screen.

  “No, it’s Jewel,” the melodic voice on the other end of the call said. Her next words carried more than a little interest in them as she asked, “Who’s this Jackson?”

  “A client.” Well, that was the truth, Kate silently said.

  “A client, huh?” She knew that tone. Kate grimaced as she reacted to the probing sound. “What else is he, Kate?”

  She was in no mood to be probed, even by one of her two best friends. Her guard automatically went up. “What do you mean?” she asked warily.

  She could hear the smile in Jewel’s voice. “Just that I can’t seem to recall you ever being breathless about a ‘client’ before.”

  “I was just trying to locate my cell phone before you hung up. It was buried in a pile of—” No, she thought, mentioning the clothes would be a huge mistake. “Never mind.” She dismissed the subject. “I’m glad you called me.”

  “So am I,” she said heartily. The next words out of her mouth told Kate that she wasn’t about to back away. “Spill it, Kate.”

  “Spill what?” she asked, trying to sound innocent. Even to her own ear, it sounded forced. The vote was in. If she’d opted to be an actress when it came time to choose a career, she would have starved to death.

  “Come off it, Kate,” Jewel told her. “I make my living tailing unfaithful spouses. I’ve got keen powers of observation—and I know when someone’s lying.”

  “Well, I think you and your ‘keen powers of observation’ need a little tune-up because you’re definitely misfiring.” She steered the conversation in another direction. “Anyway, I called you for a reason. I’ve got a client who needs some discreet investigating done.”

  Jewel sighed, weary. “Male or female?”

  Kate thought of the people she’d seen at Jackson’s party. She assumed he would want all of them looked into. “Both.”

  “Both?” Jewel repeated incredulously. “I think you just lost me.” She tried her hand at filling in the blanks. “Your client’s married and swings the other way, too?”

  In a moment of sudden clarity, Kate went from being confused to realizing what Jewel had to be thinking. “No!” she cried sharply. “He doesn’t want to have a spouse tailed. He doesn’t have a spouse.”

  Since most of her surveillance work involved cheating spouses, Jewel was puzzled. “He doesn’t?”

  “No. He wants to have his tellers’ recent dealings looked into.” The silence on the other end told Kate that she needed to start at the beginning. “He’s a district manager at Republic National Bank and he wants to make sure that no one in one of the branches he oversees has anything out of the ordinary going on.” And then she illustrated what she meant. “Large deposits out of the blue, sudden lavish spending sprees, things like that.” And then she cinched the deal. She put it in the form of a challenge. Jewel was every bit as competitive as she was. “Are you up to it?”

  “An honest-to-goodness investigation that doesn’t involve using a telephoto lens to take pictures of sweaty people stealing an hour’s worth of passion in a seedy motel? Up to it? Kate, I think I’m going to cry.”

  Kate laughed. Jewel always had a flair for the dramatic. “I take it that means that you’re available?”

  “You bet I am,” Jewel answered with enthusiasm. “Even if I wasn’t available I’d be available. This’ll be a breath of fresh air compared to what I’ve been doing.” She savored the thought for half a beat before getting down to the pertinent questions. “What, where, when, who and how?”

  “My client can answer the questions better than I can. I’ll put you in touch with him,” she promised before giving Jewel some of the more basic information. “His name’s Jackson Wainwright—”

  “Jackson Wainwright.” Jewel rolled the name off her tongue, as if sampling it for familiar tastes. “Didn’t I just read something in the local paper about him getting into it with a cop over creating a disturbance in public?”

  “That’s his brother Jonah and a whole other story. Jackson’s the good brother. He just transferred down here from the bank’s home office in San Francisco to keep tabs on his big brother before Jonah winds up hurting himself—and possibly someone else to boot.”

  “And where does investigating his employees come in?” Jewel asked. “Or does he want me to keep tabs on his brother, too?”

  “No. Wainwright thinks someone’s embezzling from one of his branches. He needs his employees’ files reviewed, cross-referenced and all that good stuff you know how to do so well.”

  “Flattery will get you everywhere—and even if it didn’t, taking on something new made your argument for you. Tell Wainwright that when I meet with him, I’d like him to give me a list of all the employees’ names and social security numbers. That way I can get started right away.”

  “Sounds good to me,” Kate told her. “So when can I set up a meeting? I think he’s really anxious to get this thing started.”

  Jewel didn’t even have to think about it. “Anytime he’s free. My schedule’s flexible. This less-than-sterling husband I’ve been tailing has already given me enough material to allow his wife to take him to the cleaners twice over. The guy’s involved in a threesome even as we speak. I can have this all wrapped up by tonight.”

  Kate heard her friend sigh again, a little more deeply this time. She knew exactly what Jewel was thinking. That this kind of thing, being paid to spy on ch
eating spouses, was beneath her. Jewel only took on these assignments to pay the bills while she waited for something better to come along. Who knew? Maybe this would somehow lead to her doing something else, something more interesting, more challenging and most important of all, something that didn’t have her coming home wanting to take two showers to wash the stench of infidelity off her skin.

  “Wonderful,” Kate declared, knowing that if anyone could get information, it was Jewel. She was tenacious and, just as important, she had access to all sorts of people who could help her. “I’ll let Wainwright know at dinner tonight.”

  The moment the words were out, Kate knew she’d slipped up.

  “Dinner, huh?” The two words burst at the seams with all sorts of implications.

  “It’s a working dinner,” Kate was quick to emphasize. But the damage, she knew, was done.

  “Uh-huh.”

  “No, really,” Kate insisted. She wanted Jewel to believe her. “I’m reworking the terms of a trust fund for his brother. It’s about to expire and Wainwright thought that—”

  “You don’t have to explain to me, Kate,” Jewel assured her. “I’m already in your corner. I’m your friend, remember?”

  “And if you want to stay that way and know what’s good for you, you’ll find a way to get rid of that smug, I-can-see-through-you tone in your voice.”

  “Yes, ma’am,” Jewel teased. “Consider it done.” She heard Jewel laugh, then clear her throat in a futile attempt to cover up the sound. “Call me as soon as you have a date.”

  The request took Kate completely by surprise. “What?”

  “For me to meet Wainwright,” Jewel clarified. And then she couldn’t resist asking, “Why? What did you think I meant?” she pressed innocently.

  Kate glanced at her watch. Oh God, she was going to be late. She was never late. Larger butterflies replaced the mid-size ones already circling in her stomach.

  “I’ve got to go,” she announced just before she flipped her phone closed. She had exactly five minutes to find something suitable to wear. Or cancel.

  “You look terrific,” Jackson said with unabashed appreciation, rising in his chair as the server brought Kate over to his table. He’d begun to think that she had changed her mind at the last minute and opted out. The wait, he now thought as his eyes swept over her, had been well worth it. She wore one of those little black dresses and it accentuated all the right places. His new family lawyer had quite a figure on her.

  The compliment made her cheeks warm. She was grateful that the lighting was dim. “Thank you. I was running late so I really didn’t get a chance to be very selective. This is just something I grabbed out of the closet and threw on.”

  He doubted the process had been that hurried. She looked far too good for that. But he saw no reason not to play along. “Haste looks good on you,” he told her. “You should do it more often.”

  Something in his voice tipped her off. Kate’s eyes narrowed as she studied his face. “You know I’m lying, don’t you?”

  “Lying’s a bit harsh,” he observed. And then he grinned. “But no woman I have ever known just ‘throws’ clothes on. Young or old, appearance matters to them. Although, I have to admit, if anyone could get away with the rushed, I-don’t-give-a-damn look, it’s you.”

  Kate toyed with the edges of her menu. “Thank you—I think.”

  “It was meant as a compliment,” Jackson assured her. And then he sat back in his seat. “So, do you want to order first, or would you rather show me something you have tucked away in your clutch purse that’ll qualify this as a ‘working’ dinner and make you feel better about being here like this?”

  Ordinarily, she would have taken offense. But he’d said it so guilelessly that she found herself charmed instead.

  “I don’t have anything to show you,” she admitted. “But I can tell you something instead.”

  “Okay,” he said gamely, resting his hands on the edge of his side of the table. “What?”

  “Jewel got back to me.” There was no sign of recognition on Jackson’s face when she said the name. “My friend who’s a private investigator,” she clarified.

  “Oh, right,” he said, remembering. “When can she meet with me?”

  “She would be able to clear some time for you this coming Monday in the afternoon if that works for you.”

  Taking out his smartphone, Jackson opened it and consulted the feature that kept track of his schedule. It was one of the state of the art models that surrendered its information at a touch. He still had to flip through several screens before he found what he was looking for.

  Nodding to himself, he flipped the phone closed and returned it to his jacket pocket. “Monday afternoon works out fine for me.” He raised his eyes to her. “Say around two?”

  “Two,” she repeated with a nod. “I’ll let Jewel know.”

  “All right,” Jackson said with a nod. “Now that that piece of business is out of the way and we can officially refer to this as a ‘working dinner,’ what would you like to have for the eating portion of this dinner?” he asked her as he opened his menu.

  You, on a plate, garnished with parsley.

  Stunned, Kate blinked. The thought had come out of nowhere, ambushing her. Maybe it had been too long between men.

  Better yet, she decided the next moment, she needed to get back to the gym again. If she exercised for an hour after a full day at work, she would definitely be too tired for these kinds of thoughts. And as an added bonus, if she followed this course of action, she mused, her body would be toned, as well.

  Kate slanted a glance at her client. One perfectly shaped eyebrow arched. Clearly, Jackson was waiting for her to make her selection.

  “How’s the prime rib here?” she asked, glancing at the menu’s second page.

  “Excellent. Actually, to the best of my recollection, you can’t go wrong ordering anything here.”

  That was good enough for her. Kate closed her menu and placed it on the outer edge of the table. “Then I guess I’ve made my choice. I like my meat rare.”

  Their eyes met and held for a moment. The smile on his lips told her that he took her words to mean something else entirely.

  Maybe, subconsciously they did, she thought as her icy fingertips made an encore appearance. Right now, she was relieved that Jackson didn’t have a reason to take hold of her hand.

  Very subtly, she dropped one hand to her lap and then moved it ever so slowly until it was beneath her thigh. She had to warm her hands up somehow and aside from rubbing them against each other as if she meant to start a fire by magic, this was the only way.

  Unless she got something hot to wrap her hands around to warm them.

  She saw the server approach, ready to take their orders. “Ready to order?” the young woman asked.

  “Coffee,” Kate declared. “Could you bring me some coffee, please? Oh, and I’d like the prime-rib dinner.” She went on to describe the way she wanted it prepared.

  When she finished, Jackson repeated, “Coffee?” Usually that was ordered after the meal, not before. “Planning on pulling an all-nighter?” he asked.

  She didn’t need coffee for that, she thought, casting another glance in his direction. She was already way past being wired enough to remain up all night.

  But she couldn’t just leave his question hanging there, so she murmured, “You never know.”

  Chapter Ten

  The meal was every bit as good as it had promised to be, more than living up to the restaurant’s five-star reputation. The only thing that was better, in Kate’s estimation, was the conversation.

  When the server returned to clear away their dishes and ask about their choice for dessert, Kate shook her head. “I’d have to wear it, not eat it,” she told the young woman.

  The latter’s eyes shifted to Jackson. “I’m pretty full, too,” he told the server, then took a second glance at the back of the menu. The description he was reading more than sold itself. “Although
this ice-cream dish sounds really good.” Putting down the menu, he appealed to Kate. “Split it with me?”

  The mere thought of eating another bite of anything almost made her sides ache. “I really don’t think there’s any room left in my stomach for even a breath, much less any kind of food.”

  “There’s always room for ice cream,” Jackson assured her cheerfully.

  “I think you have your commercials mixed-up. That’s Jell-O,” she told him.”

  Jackson stood his ground. “Ice cream melts, Jell-O doesn’t, at least not as quickly.” He leaned over and took her hand in his. “C’mon, Kate,” he coaxed. “Be adventurous.”

  She raised a skeptical eyebrow. “You consider eating ice cream adventurous?”

  “In your case, yes,” he teased. “You’ve got to start someplace.”

  Kate sighed, pushing the menu toward the server. Capitulating, she gave Jackson her terms. “All right, but you eat most of it.”

  “That’s not really the idea behind ‘splitting,’ but all right.” He looked at the server. “One order of Brandy Snowdrift and two spoons.”

  The woman nodded, tucked the menus under her arm, piled one empty plate on the other, then picked them up and gracefully withdrew.

  “She’d better come back quick,” Kate commented. “I can feel the food expanding in my stomach, taking up the last of any available space.” Humor glinted in her eyes.

  He liked talking to her. Liked enjoying simple things with her. “You don’t generally eat dinner, do you?” he guessed.

  A good deal of the time, she couldn’t get to the gym, or even have time for a brisk walk. She watched her weight by regarding food as fuel, not falling into the trap of thinking of it as a support system.

  “My quota’s usually about two meals, broken up and scattered throughout the day.”

  She had a very nice shape, but “really thin” was only a whisper away. “If you weighed any less, you’d probably have to carry rocks in your pockets when our winds kick up around here.” The Santa Anas could be fierce at times, pushing SUVs from one lane to another, uprooting trees. How did someone as slender as Kate manage in weather like that?