Matthew's Choice

by Patricia Bradley

  “I’m good.”

  He left the door open and adjusted the cummerbund, making sure the pleats faced up. “What brings you to Memphis?”

  “I came over for Christmas and Clint talked me into staying for this party he’s going to.” Her voice floated through the doorway. “I think they have a ‘friend’ they want to introduce.”

  So that’s why she was all dolled up. He glanced down at the ring box, still open. Matt snapped the lid shut. Once he’d thought Allie would be the one wearing his grandmother’s rings. Shrugging the thought off, he slid the tie around his neck, his fingers fumbling with the silk. After a few minutes, he gave up and grabbed his shoes. He’d give the tie one more shot after he donned his Oxfords.

  Or maybe he’d search online for instructions first. Why hadn’t he thought of that before? While his laptop booted up, he slipped on his shoes then typed his search words into Google. Oh, good...a video. Matt clicked on the link and leaned over the computer, studying the fat guy meticulously detailing how to knot a bow tie. He paused the video and draped the tie around his neck, making sure one side hung lower than the other.

  What was it he said to do next? He clicked Play and stared hard at the computer screen. Do what? Matt backed the video up and played it again. No doubt about it, the guy was talking Greek. He yanked the tie off and headed for his living room.

  “I give up! Would you please do this stupid—”

  The room was empty. His heart sank. She had to still be here—somebody had to help him. Movement on the balcony caught his eye. He tapped on the sliding door, and when she turned, he dangled the tie. “Help?” he mouthed.

  She slid the door open, shivering as she came back into the room. “Sorry, I just had to get some fresh air. It’s chilly out there, but a beautiful night.”

  Then she took the tie without even an I-told-you-so glance and smoothed it out before handing it back to him. “Slip it around your neck.”

  He did as he was instructed. “Thanks for doing this.”

  “No prob...that’s what friends are for. Now, be still.”

  He tried not to move, acutely aware of how close she stood to him. Maybe he should’ve tried harder to tie it. He cleared his throat. “You haven’t said anything about the apartment. Do you like it?”

  * * *

  ALLIE HAD DREADED that question from the minute she’d stepped into the place. She supposed some people like the minimalist look—sparse white walls, chrome and glass tables and a thin, hard sofa that no doubt cost a mint. The room reminded her of a spread in an architectural magazine. And it fit Matthew to a T.

  “It’s...” Cold and sterile were the only words that came to mind. Just tell him what he wants to hear. Her gaze locked on the one dash of color, an abstract painting with a flowing crimson line in the center. “It’s nice. I really like the painting. Did your girlfriend pick it out?” Allie nodded toward the silver frame that held a photo of Matt with his arms around a willowy redhead.

  “It’s actually her painting, and she put all of this together.” His Adam’s apple bobbed. “Her name is Jessica Winthrop, and she likes to paint, like you. We...we’re kind of talking about getting married.” He shook his head. “No, we’re not just talking, we’re making plans. She loves big-city living.”

  Implying Allie didn’t. But it hadn’t been the move to the big city she’d fought. She forced a thousand-watt smile to her lips. “I’m glad for you.”

  Liar, liar, pants on fire. She’d known one day he’d get married, and it wouldn’t be to her, but did he have to be the one to tell her? If she hadn’t come to Memphis over the holidays, hadn’t agreed to deliver Matt’s tux, she would’ve found out through the grapevine, which would’ve been bad enough.

  And did he have to find someone who was an artist? She glanced at the painting again. Especially one so talented. She stifled a sigh. Focus on the task at hand. Get the tie on his neck and get out of here. Matt shifted his weight as she made a half knot and pulled it against his collar. “Be still so I can get this tied.”

  A pregnant pause filled the room as Allie forced her fingers through the mechanics of knotting the tie. Finally she had the black silk material transformed into a presentable bow, and his collar turned back down. The pause grew heavier. “I saw your sister just before the Christmas break,” she said, more to fill the dead air than to pass information.

  “What? Where?”

  “At school. I double as the reading teacher and elementary school counselor. Her son has been having problems in the classroom.”

  “Son?” His brow wrinkled into a frown. “What are you talking about?”

  “When is the last time you saw Mariah?”

  “Ten years ago, when Mother died.” He shrugged. “You were there—she was wasted.”

  She definitely remembered Matt’s older sister that day. Allie had held Mariah’s head while she threw up in the commode. But now she understood his confusion—Mariah hadn’t told Matt she was pregnant. The son born to her was in Allie’s third-grade reading class and a frequent visitor to her counselor’s room. “And you haven’t talked to her since?”

  “Sometimes. She calls every year or so, and for a while I have a number to reach her on, then it gets disconnected or she changes phones. But she never said anything about a kid.” His cell phone dinged. Matt checked it and winced.

  “Your girlfriend?”

  He nodded. “Jessica has decided she wants to drive, and she’ll be here in five minutes. Look, could I call you tomorrow to talk about my sister? Maybe we could get together for coffee.”

  No way. Ending the year with a visit to Matt Jefferies was one thing. Starting the New Year off having coffee with the only man she’d ever loved and couldn’t have just was not happening. “I’m sorry. I have to go back to Cedar Grove tomorrow. Why don’t you simply call Mariah?”

  “Why? So she can lie to me again? Besides, the number I have has been disconnected. Where are my sister and the boy living?”

  “His name is Noah.” Allie dropped her gaze. “She works as a waitress at Loco Jim’s.”

  Matt waited.

  “And they live in a little house on Beaker Street.”

  His shoulders sagged. “That’s next to the projects. Why didn’t she tell me? She could’ve stayed in Mom’s house. At least it would’ve been safer.”

  “Last time I passed by your mom’s house, someone was living there.”

  “I would have helped her find something better than that end of Beaker Street.”

  Allie shook her head. “You don’t have a clue, do you? She would never ask you for anything.”

  “What do you mean? Why not?”

  “Really?” She grabbed her silk purse. “Look, I don’t think you want me here when your girlfriend arrives, so I’d better go.”

  At the door, Allie turned around. “I know you’re mad at Mariah for running off with that Connors kid, and maybe she doesn’t live up to your expectations, but she and Noah need you. Call her tomorrow. Or even better, go back to Cedar Grove and see her, meet Noah.”

  From the set of his jaw, she knew that wasn’t happening. “At least call her.”

  “Wait,” he said. “Thanks for helping me.”

  * * *

  THE ELEVATOR DOORS CLOSED, and Allie slumped against the stainless-steel wall as the elevator descended from the penthouse floor to the parking garage. What had possessed her to let Clint talk her into delivering the tux? Thoughts of wowing Matt with her new, slim body? Ha! He hadn’t even noticed.

  No doubt about it, Matt Jefferies had succeeded in putting his past behind him. Evidently he’d made his dreams come true. Money, great job, great apartment and definitely way out of her league.

  And with that success, he needed a corporate wife. From the looks of that photo, he’d found one in Jessica. Who like
d big-city living. Who would probably laugh at Allie’s job in the school system in tiny Cedar Grove. Allie squared her shoulders as the elevator stopped on the ground floor. Why should she even care what this fiancée thought?

  Matt was getting married. She’d make it a point to avoid him in the future. No need in getting her heartbeat up again. Besides, she had a party to get to, one where maybe her Prince Charming waited. Or not. With her luck, Clint had fixed her up with one of the old geezers living at the retirement home where his girlfriend worked. The doors opened and she stepped out, almost colliding with a model-thin woman in a flaming red gown that was definitely not off-the-rack.

  Allie jerked up short. “Oh! I’m sorry.”

  The woman shook her head, her diamond teardrop earrings shimmering with the movement. “Oh, no, it was my fault entirely.”

  Whoever said women with red hair shouldn’t wear red had never seen the girl in Matt’s photo. She sighed as the elevator doors closed. Oh, yeah. Matt was definitely out of Allie’s league.

  As Allie walked to her car, her cell beeped, and she snagged the phone from the black satin clutch. Clint. Where are you?

  Instead of texting, she speed-dialed her brother’s number. “I’m on my way,” she said when he answered.

  “Well, we’re waiting on you at the hotel, and your date is here.”

  Oh, joy. “I’m not the one who sent me over here, mister. And how did you get there so quick? Last I saw of you, the tow truck was pulling your car off I-240.”

  “My date picked me up.”

  “Oh. Well, what about my date? Who is this mystery man, anyway?”

  “It wouldn’t be a mystery if I told you. Now, get a move on.”

  “I need an address.”

  “It’s on Main Street at the Winthrop. Put the hotel in your GPS, and when you get here, ask at the desk for the Savannah Room and tell them Jessica Winthrop invited you.”

  Clint lost her at the Winthrop. Double joy. Her brother never told Allie she was attending a party hosted by Matt’s girlfriend. Now she’d see her ex-boyfriend twice on New Year’s Eve. Could it get any better?

  Twenty-five minutes later, she’d managed to get lost, not once, but twice. When she finally found the Savannah Room, she spied Clint pacing back and forth outside the door, all six feet of him.

  He rubbed his jaw. “Where have you been? I was worried sick that you’d had an accident...or worse.”

  “I’m sorry, I got turned around.” She glanced left, then right. “Where’s your girlfriend?”

  Clint winced. “She had to leave right after I talked with you. An emergency at the assisted living where she works. Said she might make it later. For a while, I thought you both were dumping me.”

  Allie linked her arm in his, patting it. “I’m here now, so let’s go meet this guy you’ve managed to snooker.”

  “That’s where you’re wrong.” Clint winked at her. “Your date twisted my arm to finagle an evening with you.”

  Allie tilted her head toward him. “What? Who is this person?”

  “See for yourself. Voilà.” He extended his hand, palm out.

  She turned. “Peter?”

  What was he doing here?

  CHAPTER TWO

  MATT SLIPPED INTO his jacket on the way to answer the doorbell again. He paused to look in the mirror and straighten his tie before sweeping the door open with a bow. “Good evening, madame.”

  Jessica breezed through the doorway, a sensual aroma swirling in her wake. With her coppery hair pinned up, the diamond earrings she wore dangled against her bare neck. His gaze traveled the length of the red dress that fit perfectly. He’d never seen this one before. “Wow! You look gorgeous. I’ll have to fight the single men off tonight.”

  For half a second, he considered proposing right then and there. But no, he wanted to do it right and speak with her father first.

  She slipped her left leg through the slit. “So you like it?”

  “Hmmm,” he said and pulled her to him.

  Jessica pressed her lips against Matt’s, making his toes curl inside his Oxfords. When they parted he trailed his finger along her jaw. “So why didn’t you let me pick you up like we planned?”

  “I forgot to get my mail from the box, and when I ran down to get it, there was a young mother with her baby outside the door. Found out she was waiting for a cab to come by.” The green flecks in her hazel eyes darkened. “It’s New Year’s Eve. She probably would have still been waiting if I hadn’t offered to give her a ride. After I found her destination was near your apartment, I went to plan B. And here I am.”

  Knowing Jessica, it wouldn’t have mattered if the young woman needed to go clear across town.

  “Who was your blond visitor?”

  He blanked for a second. “Visitor?”

  “The elevator. While I was waiting for it, I noticed someone came down from this floor. Female, blond, black dress? Hello?”

  “Oh, that was Clint’s sister, delivering my tux.”

  She glanced toward the door. “That was Clint’s sister? She looks nothing like the girl in your photo album.”

  “She, um, lost a little weight.”

  “That’s putting it mildly. Do you suppose she’ll be at the party with Clint?”

  “Clint’s coming to the party?” Oh, wait, Clint had mentioned a party. Matt just didn’t realize it was this party. His mind had been on Bradford.

  “You never listen to me.” Jessica punched him lightly on the shoulder. She glanced at the mirror and tucked a copper curl that had escaped the clasp back into place. “I told you last week I invited him, told him to bring guests if he wanted to. The more the merrier. Is my hair spray still here? This twig is driving me crazy.”

  “Top shelf in the bathroom.” Thank goodness he’d rehung the towel.

  “Oh, good.” She held up her finger. “Won’t take me but a sec.”

  Why hadn’t Allie mentioned she’d be at the party? Why hadn’t Clint, for that matter? Matt’s stomach gulped at the thought of seeing Allie again. He’d seen the disapproval in her eyes when Mariah’s name came up. And the kid...what was his name? Noah. Just what did Allie expect him to do? Take the two of them in? He pressed his lips together. Mariah had made her choices long ago, and he’d tried to help her then. He wasn’t sure bailing her out now was the right answer. Matt checked his own hair in the mirror and frowned. Maybe a squirt of that hair spray would help his cowlick. He started into his bedroom and braked at the door as his heart crashed against his chest. He’d forgotten to put away his grandmother’s rings, and Jessica had found them. She stood with her back to him, holding them up to the light, and once more he was tempted. No. He had it all planned for tomorrow. He stepped back into the living room and cleared his throat. “Are you finished? I need to get in there.”

  “Coming,” Jessica answered.

  “Oh, and by the way,” Matt called, “Phillip Bradford wants to meet with me tomorrow morning at nine. Shouldn’t take long. What do you say I pick you up at eleven?”

  “You hadn’t planned anything earlier, had you? I won’t be up until ten at the earliest.”

  Check mark. That problem solved itself. A minute later she hurried back into the room. He examined her face, but it didn’t give him a single clue as to how she felt about the rings.

  “I forgot to tell you...Daddy wants us there early.” She tapped her watch. “Like five minutes ago.”

  “And you’re just now telling me?” He shook his head. “Let me put my cuff links in, and we’ll go.”

  In the bedroom, he glanced at the ring box and smiled. Jessica wasn’t giving anything away. The box was closed, and exactly where he’d left it. Now if he could just corner Mr. Winthrop before his nerves got the best of him.

  What if Winthrop thought Matt wa
s crazy, asking for Jessica’s hand? Or he thought it was too old-fashioned. Matt hadn’t considered that. He fumbled with the cuff link as the stud hung in the material. Winthrop seemed to like him, but what if he’d misread her father? No, Winthrop liked him. Matt manhandled the stud through the buttonholes and straightened the cuffs.

  Tonight he’d ask the father, tomorrow the daughter.

  * * *

  WHEN THEY ARRIVED, the party in the Savannah Room rocked the walls. Glittering gold letters proclaimed Happy New Year from the ceiling as music flowed from the string ensemble, providing the backdrop for dancing or mingling. Already the party was a success. Before Matt had even had time to mix with the crowd, Mr. Winthrop pulled him aside.

  “Matthew. I’d like to speak privately with you. This way.”

  Matt followed the older man to a side room, feeling much like he did as a kid when his dad led him to the woodshed. Only expensive walnut paneling lined this woodshed, along with carpet deep enough to sink his feet into.

  “Cigar?” Winthrop picked one then offered Matt the box

  An Ashton Cabinet. He hesitated. What if Winthrop expected him to light up? The thought almost made him green. But offending the man would be worse, and he took one from the middle.

  “The Ashton Cabinet is a mild but subtly complex cigar,” Winthrop said as he clipped the end off and handed Matt the cutter. “I think you will enjoy it.”

  Matt swallowed and copied the older man’s actions, then waited as Winthrop lit his cigar. Oh, cool. A lighter with a double flame.

  Winthrop rotated the cigar under the fire. “The secret, Matt, is to toast the end, not burn it.” He puffed on the fat roll of tobacco then blew on the end.

  Once again, Matt copied Winthrop. On his third puff, queasiness rolled in his stomach, and he clamped his mouth shut. It was awfully hot in the room, and he adjusted his collar. What did Winthrop just say? “Sir? I didn’t quite catch that.”

  Winthrop pointed to a pair of wingback chairs and a small table in the corner. “I asked if you’d like to sit.”

  Thank goodness. After they were seated, a heavy silence surrounded them. Winthrop puffed his cigar while Matt rolled his in his fingers. “I guess you can tell I’m not much of a cigar connoisseur.”