Hook Me Up (Business Of Love Book 3)

by Ali Parker

  But my twin sister did.

  Apparently, the writer spent a lot of time at her resort hunkered down in a nice, quiet suite. Katie claimed it was a great place for weekly writing retreats because there weren’t many distractions and the accommodations were still luxurious and it wasn’t a long flight to get to it.

  I’d been trying to get more information out of her about the writer for years but she’d never bend. They had an unspoken agreement and she was sworn to secrecy.

  “What does this mysterious W. Parker give you to keep you so quiet anyway?”

  Katie laughed. “Isn’t it obvious? Free signed books, Jack. That’s more than enough to buy my loyalty.”

  “Fair enough.” At least Hailey benefitted from this little arrangement as well. “So you’ll send her the books?”

  “Of course I will. I was already going to. I have some spares if you’d like me to send some to Kim, too. She’s a fan, right?”

  “Aren’t all you women fans of romance and smut?”

  “W. Parker does not write smut,” Katie said. “These are deep love stories, Jack. You should read them. You work in the love business, after all. As do I. Sometimes to stay on our toes, it’s important to see life through a rosy haze of love again, even if it’s just between the pages of a book. We don’t have time to find the real thing. Or we overlook it.”

  “What does that mean?”

  Katie laughed softly. “Nothing. I’ll send Hailey the books.”

  “Thank you.”

  It wasn’t much, but I knew Hailey would appreciate it, and I hoped when she got the books, she would know I’d been thinking about her.

  Chapter 11

  Hailey

  My phone chimed when I was only a few blocks away from Hannah’s apartment. It was a message from Jackson, and I considered opening it later. I had a lot to do this evening.

  I was already running about half an hour late, which left me with exactly forty minutes to get ready for the blind date Jackson had set me up on.

  I still wasn’t sure I even wanted to go. And yet I’d said yes. I couldn’t be one of those girls who no-showed and left the poor guy high and dry at the restaurant. I’d made a commitment. So I was going.

  Maybe you’ll have a nice time. Crazier things have happened.

  I took a right down a maple-tree-lined street. “Crazier things like sleeping with Jackson.”

  With a self-loathing sigh I opened the message from Jackson. As I read it, I resented the smile that tugged at my lips.

  If the date goes terribly wrong tonight don’t be mad at me. At least you’ll have something to come home to. There should be a package waiting for you. Good luck, Hails.

  Jackson always knew how to make me smile, even if I wasn’t thrilled with him.

  There was a package waiting for me at the apartment when I got there. It was wrapped in packing paper and secured with twine and I already had a sneaking suspicion it had come from the Virgin Islands. My sister was in the shower singing to herself and must have brought it in from the hall for me.

  I pulled the twine apart and unwrapped the paper to find three W. Parker books neatly stacked on top of each other. When I flipped open the first cover and discovered an autograph inside, my eyes nearly popped out of my head.

  Katie had outdone herself this time.

  I ran my fingers over the inscription just as the bathroom door popped open. Hannah emerged from the depths of the steamy bathroom with her hair wrapped up in a towel and her body swaddled in her pink silk robe.

  She looked me up and down. “That’s not what you’re wearing on this date tonight, is it?”

  I didn’t look up from the book. “No. These are my work clothes. I have to get changed and head out pretty soon.”

  “Well, you’d better hurry.”

  “I have time.”

  Hannah mumbled something under her breath and I had the distinct impression that she doubted I’d be able to make myself presentable enough to meet her first-date standards in less than forty minutes. The annoying thing was that she was most likely right. I’d have to keep it simple. Then I’d be out the door and headed back downtown to meet my date, Ambrose, at a nice but not too nice place Jackson had insisted would be perfect for us to get to know each other.

  The Lavender Lounge smelled like, well, lavender. And honey. And cider.

  I stood at the hostess podium, breathed in the sweet smells, and admired the decor. Jackson knew me far too well. This place was a little slice of heaven in the heart of Nashville that I’d never heard of. Ivy plants hung from brass hooks in the ceiling. They were healthy and covered almost the entire ceiling with their wandering vines. Someone in this place had a real green thumb and it was obvious. Massive plants stood proudly in all the corners and it was as if I’d stepped into a tropical oasis in some faraway land from a storybook.

  The hostess greeted me and asked me my name. I told her I was there to meet a man with a beard named Ambrose.

  “Oh, he’s already here,” the hostess said. “I’ll see you to your table.”

  I followed the petite young woman through the maze of tables until we reached one right smack in the middle of the restaurant. The man sitting at the table was broad shouldered and a lot more handsome than I’d been expecting. He had a thick auburn beard and nicely styled hair.

  Ambrose stood up and flashed a dazzling white smile at me. “You must be Hailey.”

  “That’s me.”

  “It’s really nice to meet you. Thank you for taking the time to do this tonight. I know it can be tricky to make things work on weeknights and Jackson told me you were a busy woman.”

  There were already three things I liked about him.

  One, he was respecting my personal boundaries. He hadn’t come in for an assumptive hug or any of that nonsense. Instead, he walked to my side of the table and pulled out my chair for me. I took a seat and he tucked me in before sitting back down.

  “I hope you weren’t waiting long,” I said.

  “Not at all. Only been here a couple of minutes. Nice place, right? I’d never heard of it before.”

  “Me neither.”

  Second, I liked that he acknowledged that it wasn’t easy to meet up on weekdays and he thanked me for making the time. I liked a man with self-awareness like that.

  Ambrose pointed at his cocktail. “I just ordered one of these. The house special. Lavender and vodka and some other fancy liquor I can’t pronounce. It’s not bad. Can I order one for you?”

  I hesitated. Normally, I didn’t drink. My father had used alcohol as a crutch and I saw the dirty hand it had in unravelling his life and his health. It scared me more than it should and I only really had a drink or two when I was with someone I knew and trusted. “I think I’m going to stick with water. I’m not much of a drinker.”

  “Fair enough,” Ambrose said. He stirred his drink and a dried lavender flower circled the inside of the glass. “Jackson told me that you were a friend of his. Has he ever set you up with one of his clients before?”

  Third, I liked that Ambrose had referred to me as a woman, not a girl. So many times over, grown men had looked at me as a girl. I was not. I was a woman. I was strong and capable and well past the age of being a child.

  All of this suggested Ambrose respected women.

  Or he was very good at pretending to. But I wasn’t picking up on that vibe.

  I shook my head. “Jackson has never set me up with a client before. He’s tried a handful of times but I was never in the right place to see someone. Actually, this is only the second blind date I’ve ever been on.”

  Ambrose tugged at the collar of his white polo shirt as if to fan himself. “No pressure on me, huh?”

  I laughed. “So far, you’re doing just fine.”

  A waitress passed our table and Ambrose held up a hand. She stopped and he ordered a glass of water for me. He paused and glanced over at me. “Ice? Lemon?”

  “Both please,” I said.

  The waitr
ess smiled. “Both, it is.”

  She bustled off and Ambrose took a sip of his drink.

  “Thank you,” I said.

  A quiet moment stretched between us but it didn’t last long. Ambrose picked up conversation like a natural and told me about his day before asking me how mine went. I gave him a thinly veiled lie and told him work was good. He asked what I did for a living and I explained where I worked and that I was trying to climb the corporate ladder.

  “A woman with goals,” Ambrose said. “I like that.”

  “I’m not where I want to be yet but there’s still time. The benefits the higher up you go are incredible. And the vacation time? Well, I like to fantasize about it on my lunch breaks.”

  He chuckled. He had a nice, warm laugh. “Don’t we all? What do you like to do outside of work? Any hobbies?”

  I sat back when the server arrived with our starter salads. We took a moment to prep our salads and drizzle dressing on them before I answered his question.

  “I read a lot,” I said. “I’ve always been a bookworm. And I like to do almost anything outdoors. Long walks, bike rides, hiking. Nothing extreme,” I clarified because I did not have the cardiovascular endurance for such things. “What about you?”

  “Can’t say I’m an avid reader but I can appreciate a good book every once in a while. I like working with my hands. Building things. Home renovation projects. That sort of thing.”

  It wasn’t hard to picture Ambrose all sweaty in work pants and no shirt hammering nails into a piece of wood or putting up a shed in his yard. He had the physique of a man who appreciated physical work. I wondered how much time he spent at the gym. There was no way those perfectly defined muscles of his hadn’t been hard earned lifting weights and doing chin ups.

  “What about cooking?” Ambrose asked before popping a big bite of salad greens, dates, and goat cheese in his mouth. “Do you like to cook?”

  “Yes,” I said. “I prefer cooking for people rather than just myself. I’m guilty of getting lazy when I cook for myself and just making a sandwich or something.”

  “But for your family?”

  “I cook for my sister once a week or so. Do you like to cook?”

  Ambrose chuckled and shook his head. “I’m not very good at it. I can make a grilled cheese and that’s about it. But I am exceptional at eating other people’s cooking.”

  “That’s a hard job.”

  “I grew up in a house with a mother who cooked every meal from scratch every day. She knew how important it was to serve balanced meals and she liked to control what went into the bodies of her children and her husband. She felt it was her responsibility as a mother.”

  I didn’t say anything. The conversation felt like it was suddenly going in a direction I didn’t want to follow.

  Ambrose watched me over the rim of his glass as he took a sip of his drink. “Do you want children of your own, Hailey?”

  This was pretty serious subject matter for a first date. All of a sudden, I was no longer thinking about how much of a gentleman he was but rather how all-in he was. He wanted a partner, and he wanted her now, and he wasn’t wasting any time pointing out the things he wanted in a woman.

  It was pretty easy for me to see what kind of woman he wanted, too. A domestic one.

  There wasn’t anything wrong with that. He wanted a family and a wife and he wanted what he grew up with. That was natural.

  But I wasn’t her.

  “Honestly?” I asked, watching him closely for his reaction.

  He nodded.

  “I’m not sure if I want kids at all,” I said. “I suppose I’ll know in a few more years but it’s hard to look at my life objectively and see where kids would fit when I’m not where I want to be financially or personally. I mean, I still live with my older sister. I’ve been single for a long time. My work schedule isn’t ideal. And I’m still really enjoying not having the responsibility of having someone to take care of.”

  Ambrose nodded. He was quiet.

  It wasn’t the answer he wanted.

  “I respect that you know you do want those things, Ambrose,” I said. “But I think that means you might be a little more serious about this than I am. I… I’m not where I want to be to start thinking about these things yet.”

  Ambrose nodded. “I understand. I appreciate your honesty. Can I ask you something?”

  “Sure.”

  “Where do you want to be when you start thinking about kids and family?”

  I shrugged. “You know. The usual. I want to be in the role at work I’ve been eyeing. I want to be financially stable. I want to be a homeowner. I want to be married to someone I love and trust and can depend on, who I know would be a good father, and—”

  “And do you know who he is?”

  “Pardon?”

  Ambrose gave me a sad smile. “I was hopeful I might be sitting down tonight to meet the woman I would marry one day. But I think her heart might already belong to someone else and she’s fighting tooth and nail to explain away all the things she needs to do to feel ready. Where do you want to be right now, Hailey? Not five years from now. Right now.”

  I licked my lips.

  New York.

  Chapter 12

  Jackson

  “I’ve heard good things about you and your matchmaking skills, Mr. Smithe,” the woman with the thick southern accent said on the other end of the phone line. There was a familiar feminine note to her voice that I couldn’t place and I wondered if I’d met her before. “I’d like to stop by your office this morning and sit down and discuss hiring you to help me fix my love life. Do you have an open appointment?”

  The office was coming along nicely but it still wasn’t finished. A last coat of paint needed to go on, followed by installing new baseboards, crown molding, and putting up the light fixtures.

  “You can absolutely stop in this morning,” I said. “We’ll sit down and see what we can make happen. What time works for you? I’m flexible.”

  “I’m in the area. Five minutes?”

  “Sure. Come on by. The office is still in the final stages of some construction so I apologize in advance for the dust and the stench of wet paint.”

  “Not to worry, darling. See you soon.”

  She hung up.

  Darling?

  Who was this southern belle? And what was she doing in New York looking for love? I was already brimming over with curiosity by the time someone knocked softly on the front door. I paced down the plastic-covered hallways to protect the new hardwood floors from paint and tugged the door open.

  And there, standing on the front step with two coffees in hand, was Hailey.

  I blinked.

  She grinned like a goof. “Hello, darling,” she cooed with a southern accent that sounded much cheesier face to face than it had over the phone. She handed me one of the coffees. “Are you going to let a girl in, or are you going to leave her standing outside?”

  I threw my head back and laughed before stepping aside and letting her in. Hailey hurried inside and wrapped her coffee-free arm around me in a hug.

  “What are you doing here?” I asked. “Not that I’m complaining. It’s great to see you. I just didn’t expect—how did you—when did you—”

  “Breathe, Jack.” She giggled. “I hopped on a flight at two in the morning after a very enlightening date with Ambrose.”

  “You liked him?”

  “Well enough.” She shrugged before turning in a slow circle and looking around the office. “This place looks incredible! I love the color. It’s so bright and airy and—”

  “Hailey.”

  She turned back to me. “Hm?”

  “What are you doing here?”

  “I missed you.”

  “I missed you too. Obviously. But what is this about? How long are you here?”

  Hailey’s cheeks turned a little pink. She set her coffee down on what would soon be the front desk of the office. It was a big white marble-covered slab. On the
wall behind the desk was white wall paneling, and soon, it would have artwork up there to showcase local artists in the community. Paying it forward was good, simple business.

  Hailey clasped her hands together. “I did something crazy.”

  My heart did a little skip in my chest.

  Had she hooked up with Ambrose? Was he here with her? Were they on a spontaneous lovers’ trip to the Big Apple where they would fall head over heels and have a whirlwind romance and then get married before the end of the year and start making babies and—

  “Are you okay, Jack?” Hailey asked, pulling me out of my thoughts.

  I gave my head a shake. “Yeah. Yeah. Sorry, just got a little distracted. Work stuff. You did something crazy, you said?”

  She nodded. “I packed up all my stuff at my sister’s apartment and she’s putting it on a moving truck for me tomorrow morning.”

  “Moving truck?”

  She nodded. “You asked me a thousand times to come with you and I said no, but now I’m finally saying yes even though you didn’t ask.”

  “Are you pulling my leg?”

  She shook her head. “Nope. I’m dead serious.”

  All the panicked worry I suddenly had about Ambrose—which I still didn’t quite understand where it had come from—melted away. “Where are you staying?”

  She bit her bottom lip. “I hadn’t thought it all the way through. I sort of just jumped without looking back.”

  I put my coffee down and took her by the shoulders. “Hailey Marie Brown, you just made my fucking year.”

  She giggled. God, I’d missed that sound. And those eyes. And that smile. And the smell of her vanilla body spray.

  She let out a relieved sigh and put her hands over mine on her shoulders. “I’m glad you’re happy because the asshole I sat next to on the plane told me I was crazy for upending my life for a guy who’d already started his new journey in another city and was probably seeing a girl with a New York City edge and long legs and—”