Mariah dug in her purse and pulled out the three she’d taken from him the first time he’d come to see her. She carried them around because she’d liked him so much. “Here. You can replace them later. Don’t miss any opportunities.”
Snorting, John dug in his jacket before pulling out his wallet. He dug out three cards as well and handed them over to a now chuckling Elliston.
“Gee, thanks. Why couldn’t you two be my parents? Mom and Dad didn’t have any on them tonight,” he said before turning to his date.
Elliston’s tasteless joke deserved an eye roll from his date, but he seemed to be unaware that she was nearer her and John Monroe’s age than his. Mariah winced a little at the pressure they’d all accidentally put on the woman now to top their support. Lynn Carson, an entrepreneur herself, merely smiled. She seemed unconcerned about any of it and pulled her phone out of a teeny, tiny sparkly gold shoulder purse resting against one curvy hip. She pulled Elliston’s hand up, put one of his business cards in his palm, then took a picture of it.
Lynn smiled genuinely at him when he beamed at her. “There. Now you have something electronic to forward… and you can get them to give you their phone number this way. It’s a twofer.”
Mariah breathed out when Elliston turned that grin she found so appealing in her direction. “Thank you, Mariah. Tonight has truly been perfect,” he said.
Mariah nodded—message received. Then Elliston and Lynn wandered off, leaving her alone again with John.
“How old is she?” John asked sharply. “You look younger than she does.”
Mariah looked at him and made a zipper sign across her lips.
“Are you ever going to really talk to me?” he demanded.
“Sure. Just stop asking me questions about my clients. If you want to know more details about her, ask your nephew.”
John grunted. “Yeah… okay. I get that.”
“Good,” Mariah said. “Now that I’ve seen what I came to see, I believe I’ll be leaving. Can’t say it was a pleasure to see you again, but it was just as interesting as the first time.”
John stopped her with a hand on her arm. “Have coffee with me.”
“Coffee? It’s eight o’clock at night. My mother yells at me if I pace the house and keep her awake.”
“You live with your mother?” John asked.
“I do now,” Mariah said. “My ex got the house.”
“How the hell did that happen?”
Mariah shrugged. “Something about him working to put me through college and how he was the primary reason I’d gotten wealthy, instead of it being my hard work like I’d believed. When calculated through divorce math, it apparently added up to an amount very similar to my half of our house.”
“That’s bullshit.”
“That’s divorce,” Mariah corrected. “I’m going to buy another house. It’s going to be a while though, unless my mother throws me out. I cramp her style. She’s a party hound.”
John’s reluctant laughter over her comments made her chest warm with delight. There was nothing better to her than a man with a good sense of humor. But the rest of the package? Being a detective. Being a demanding nosy ass. God, it was like she was a magnet for men like Dan and him.
She caught him looking at Elliston, who put his hand on Lynn’s arm to get her attention. He stayed attached to her while he listened to what she had to say in reply to his question.
And so it begins… Mariah reluctantly shook off her happier musings. “I could stand here and watch them all night, but only because they’re having a good time together. Just so you can get your report straight, I don’t normally chaperone.”
“Now that sounded genuine,” John said.
Mariah considered it for a moment. “It was. I like your nephew.”
“So you do believe me.”
Mariah laughed. “No. I believe Elliston. He’s the one who cried uncle when he saw you.”
John sighed. “Is it because of what I do for a living?”
“Is what?”
“You know what,” John accused. “You putting me off.”
“Off what?” Mariah asked.
“Liking you,” John ground out. “Stop playing games. I know you can tell I’m interested.”
“I don’t date clients.”
“But I’m not a client,” John reminded her.
“I draw a different line,” Mariah said carefully.
“Erase it,” John ordered.
“And I just got divorced.”
“From someone that took your house from you. Are you still pining?”
Mariah huffed. “No, I’m not pining. I’m just not interested. I’m… off men for a while… a good long while.”
“How long?” John asked.
“Why are you pressing me so hard?” she asked, finding rationality in the blunt question.
“Because you’re the most plain speaking woman I’ve ever met and I can see that extends to anyone you care about. Your ex is an idiot.”
“My ex is Senior Detective Daniel Luray.”
John wiped a hand over his eyes and said a pithy word or two under his breath.
“I take it you know him,” Mariah observed, fascinated when John turned crimson again.
He finally nodded. “Yes. I’m working with him on a project.”
Mariah shrugged. “Doesn’t surprise me. At his level, nearly everyone interacts with Dan sooner or later. I’m sure he’s already shared his suspicions about my business with you.”
“Like most divorced men, Dan complains a lot,” John said.
“Neither denying nor admitting,” Mariah observed. “I feel a shift has taken place between us. I’ve morphed into a two headed Hydra right before your eyes.”
“No,” John denied. “That’s not it.”
“Bet it kicked that coffee idea to the curb though, didn’t it?”
Reluctantly, John nodded. “It would make my work with him harder.”
“Again… no surprise here,” Mariah said.
“My project with him isn’t going to last forever.”
Mariah sighed and bowed her head. She lifted it only after several moments of debate about how honest to be.
“John… if I were a different female, I’d turn that coffee date into a Bourbon one, and then I’d seduce you. Not for your sake, but for mine. One—because I hate being celibate. Two—for the pleasure of knowing Dan was working alongside my new lover. Divorced women can be petty and vindictive, especially when they have an ex like I have. However, I’m not even going there in fantasy. Do you want to know why?”
“I’m riveted. Why?” John demanded.
“Because I like you as much as I like your nephew. And no one deserves to be treated badly. Watch your back, John. Dan is not the ethical straight-shooter he once was. I don’t know what changed him, but something has. By the time we split, the once great father and husband was completely gone.”
Needing to shut herself up, Mariah turned and walked away before she ended up answering that needy look John had given her when she’d confessed to liking him.
Chapter Five
Georgia motioned to the dining table. “Okay, ladies. Food’s all ready. Let’s eat before Mariah gets home.”
The women laughed as they filed down both sides of the table filling plates.
“I don’t know if I can. I’m too nervous to eat. I can’t believe I actually came here.”
Reaching out, Georgia took her younger friend’s arm and guided her to the table. On her best day, Jellica was forty-four going on twenty. It astounded her how few women had any real confidence in themselves. “You’re going to be just fine. Eat now. It’ll only be worse if you wait.”
Georgia patted the woman’s shoulder before pushing on it gently. It was always hard for her to deal with women friends who were afraid to make decisions, especially simple ones like eating.
“Why am I here, Georgia? I’m too old for this and the whole dating thing at our age is just ridiculous. I c
an’t believe you talked me into this idiocy.”
Georgia snickered as her head turned. “Quit complaining, Trudy. You’re getting free food you didn’t have to cook yourself for once. Enjoy it while you can.”
Chef Trudy Baxter frowned as she peered down at the buffet of nearly unidentifiable potluck dishes. “I like cooking just for myself.”
“You do not,” Georgia argued. “I eat with you at least three times a week.”
“Only because I cook better than you do,” Trudy argued.
“You’re a famous chef, you eyelash batting widiot.”
“Widiot—I love that. And I was a famous chef,” Trudy corrected, frowning. “Now I’m just a retired restaurant owner with far too much free time on her hands.”
“Stop bad mouthing yourself. You cook for friends and charities.” Georgia snorted and shook her head. “Why am I wasting my breath arguing? Get a damn plate, Trudy. You’re just here to keep Mariah from killing me. I was supposed to make her a list, not throw a potluck party. I got carried away.”
“That must be a rare treat for a plodding harlot like you,” Trudy answered, grinning. She looked at something yellow and then back to Georgia. “What did I tell you about using those recipes on the back of the corn can?”
“Will you just freaking eat,” Georgia ordered sharply, pointing at the food.
Rolling her eyes, Trudy picked up a plate. “I can only imagine what your sex life must have been like with your husband. Was Ted into being bossed around?”
“Yes. We took turns at it,” Georgia spat at her tormentor. She reached out, scooped up a helping of corn casserole, and plopped it onto Trudy’s plate. “And yes, I made it from the recipe on the can. It’s got fake cheese in it too.”
Trudy glared at the offending glop of yellow nuggets. “Gross.”
“So are your comments, you celibate sow.”
Trudy’s laugh over the insult happened just before the front door opened. Georgia winced and wiped her hands on her slacks. “She’s early. Shit…”
“…is about to hit the proverbial Mariah fan,” Trudy finished, putting her grinning attention on other dishes. “Do you really expect me to eat food I can’t identify?”
Rolling her eyes, Georgia headed to talk to her daughter.
“Mom… you didn’t,” Mariah said wearily, sinking down on the guest room bed as she tried to take it in. She eyed the closed bedroom door, wishing she’d never come home tonight. “How many women did you invite?”
“Twenty-seven because I was sure some wouldn’t show up.”
Mariah rubbed her forehead. “Okay. So how many are actually here?”
“Thirty four or so. Word got around. No, make that thirty-three. Trudy doesn’t count. She’s not interested, but frankly, the woman needs to get laid. It’s been like a decade for her.”
Mariah’s hand fell away. Her shock was now complete. What kind of business did her mother think she was running? She made it sound as bad as Dan did. “Mom, I’m not running a service to get women laid.”
Georgia waved her hand. “You’re so sensitive. That’s not what I meant, Mariah.”
“Well, what exactly did you mean?” Mariah demanded, irritation making her tone sharp.
She rose not waiting for an answer to her question. Logically, she knew her mother had been trying to help, but now what was she supposed to do with all those needy, and obviously desperate, women? Client acceptance was a rigorous process for her. This was all her fault for telling her fix-it mother about a shortage she wasn’t even sure she wanted to fill.
Mariah groaned softly as her gaze took in the claustrophobic dimensions of the small bedroom. She really needed to find her own place where she could vent to the walls instead of to a woman who couldn’t stop herself from over-fixing everything around her.
“I never realized how many unattached females I knew over the age of forty until you asked that question. Look at the bright side… at least there’s food,” Georgia offered as a penance. “Everyone who came brought a potluck dish. Some of it’s even good enough to eat.”
Mariah laughed only because angry swearing was a habit she could have all too easily picked up living under a roof again with Georgia Bates, military wife. She raised a hand instead, giving in ungracefully, because what else could she do? The women were here already.
“Fine. I’ll be out there in ten minutes. But just know that I may not accept any of them. I’m not promising anyone anything.”
Georgia shrugged. “Fine. I never promised them anything either.”
“Good,” Mariah said. “Because my male clients, even though some do want to date older women, have certain criteria for their matches. They expect successful, educated partners—not lonely housewives looking for boredom relief.”
Georgia fisted her hands on her hips. “I think what they want is the same thing every man wants. They’re just playing your expensive game to get you to do their hard work for them. Seems a little bit lazy to me, but I guess those twenty plus weddings prove you’re doing something right.”
“Mother…” Mariah warned, using the formality she knew her mother hated.
“Stop worrying. I knew better than to raise their hopes.”
“Mother…” Mariah said softer. “This is not the way things are done.”
“Well, it’s a good thing then that we’ll at least get food out of it. I put everyone in the Florida room so you could look at them in the daylight. Not a speck of foundation on any that I could tell so all the lines and wrinkles ought to be obvious. It shouldn’t be hard to judge which ones will make a good enough high class showing.”
“Mother…” Mariah said again, this time too exasperated to be stern.
“Don’t forget to grab a plate on your way,” Georgia ordered, opening the bedroom door and sliding out of it.
It surprised both her and her mother when Mariah actually came up with a list of eight potential women from the potluck attendees. They chatted about the women as they put plastic wrap over all the food worth keeping.
“Trudy’s on my list. She’s actually more like my typical female client. Maybe she’s not into real dating at the moment, but I bet she wouldn’t mind a few outings just for fun. Some of my clients just want an occasional companion with poise. Tell me more about Ann Lynx, though. She looks great for her age and didn’t reek of desperation either.”
Georgia stopped wrapping to think. “Ann’s a long-time widow. Her nest is truly empty now that her son’s getting married. I know I told you about her. Her daughter got busted up serving in the Marines. Girl came home and ended up marrying her childhood sweetheart. She was gone for over eight years. I’m surprised Nicholas North never came to see you.”
“Nicholas North? Wow. He’s from old money,” Mariah said.
Georgia nodded. “Georgia says he’s a very good man who loves her daughter madly. That’s better than money.”
Mariah shrugged. “Dan and I certainly didn’t marry for money. We were both in school.”
“No, you didn’t, but I sometimes wonder now about Dan’s motives. You gave him a cushy lifestyle he’d never been able to achieve on his own.”
“Mom… we didn’t break up over money. People fall out of love all the time.”
“And some—like you—get pushed out of it,” Georgia replied.
Mariah rolled her eyes, definitely not wanting to cover that ground again, even if she did still sometimes wonder what happened to her former relationship. Everything was great until one day it simply wasn’t anymore.
“Back to the women who came tonight. Do you think Ann is really interested in finding someone new?”
“No.”
Mariah laughed. Her mother was blunt to the point of conversational pain. “Why do you say that? You told me everyone who came here was interested.”
Georgia turned and dug some plastic containers out of a nearby cabinet. “Oh, Ann’s interested, but not necessarily in anything real. She came because Trudy and I made her. Ann’s a h
appy widow, but her children are pressuring her to date. I think you represent a way she can make enough of a show of fake dating to keep her children off her back. All she has to do is tell them she’s using a service.”
Mariah frowned as she considered that info. Ann’s lack of interest wouldn’t work well with a male client wanting a real relationship. Usually she had the opposite problem with people wanting more than she could or anyone else could deliver.
“Do you feel like I ever pressure you to date?” Mariah asked, relieved when her mother laughed.
“No and I would never let you,” she said firmly. “Not all mother-child relationships are as honest as ours though.”
Mariah nodded as she wrapped the last dish. “Children just want their parents to be happy.”
Georgia nodded. “Happiness doesn’t always have to involve marriage and a man. Happy at my age can mean a lot of things. Ann’s only in her early 50s. I can’t speak for women her age. I lost your father then.”
Mariah stopped and looked at her mother. “Do you still miss him?”
Georgia stopped spooning leftovers to think about it. “Not as much as I used to. He was a royal pain to live with after he retired. I do miss the sex, though. It was the glue that made the rough patches worth it between us. I always, always looked forward to that man coming home to me.”
Mariah laughed and hung her head. She groaned a little. “Glad to hear Dad was a stud.”
“Are you not dating because I’m not?” Georgia asked, the thought just occurring to her.
Mariah’s head came flying up. “Of course not,” she denied. “Because of Dan I hate men right now. This is not a good attitude to have when you want to date. I’m hoping it’s a phase that will pass. I miss the sex too.”
“Physician, heal thyself…” Georgia quoted.
Mariah snorted over the quote. “Except I’m not a physician. Nor apparently was I an expert at choosing a life partner either. My life has gotten very ironic given what I’m trying to do for a living.”
Never Is A Very Long Time: A Romantic Comedy With Attitude (The Perfect Date Book 1) Page 3