“Still,” her receptionist said, before her eyes came to rest on the questionnaire sitting before Lauren on her desk. “What’s that?”
“Umm…” Lauren felt a flush creep up her face. She’d been contemplating Matt’s answers to Ideal Match’s questionnaire—the one he’d been filling out that first day in her office—before Candace had walked in.
Candace plucked the paper off her desk before she could stop her. “Mmm.” She looked at Lauren and pursed her lips. “Matthew Whittaker’s dossier. Let’s see now.”
Lauren sighed.
“I won’t even ask why this is on your desk,” Candace said, eyeing her.
Lauren felt heat rise to her face again. The truth was, she’d been torturing herself, trying to decipher Matt’s answers, as if they held the key to the man—as if they might divulge hints of his past betrayal and general lack of trustworthiness.
Candace suddenly laughed and lowered the questionnaire. “Well, it’s obvious why you couldn’t match him. He was looking for you!”
She shot her receptionist a look of disbelief.
Candace dropped the paper on her desk. “Take another look. It’s not just the physical stuff, it’s everything. You’re his fantasy.”
She eyed the questionaire with a skeptical eye.
As Candace walked out of the room, she added, “Anybody can see you’re perfect for each other.”
Lauren closed her eyes and leaned her head back against her chair.
She’d put up a combative front for Candace, but the truth was, she was sick at heart.
She should be in bed right now with the shades drawn and the door shut. She should be eating ice cream straight from the tub and weeping over Humphrey Bogart’s goodbye to Ingrid Bergman in Casablanca.
There was nothing like a classic heartbreak flick to let a woman drown in her sorrows.
Except she wasn’t only a woman who wallowed in pain. On a couple of memorable occasions—her wedding day, the night of the Gala—she’d shown grit. At her wedding reception, she’d gyrated on the dance floor to Gloria Gaynor’s “I Will Survive.”
Her thoughts went back to Candace’s words. For sure, Candace was wrong about the questionnaire.
Or maybe not.
Even in her pain, her heart wanted to believe….
She replayed Saturday night in her mind for the umpteenth time, stopping the video tape at key moments.
Yes, Matt had been wrong not to tell her about his conversation with Parker, but the bottom line was, he’d done her a favor.
Now that her temper had cooled, she had to admit Candace was right. She was so much better off not being married to Parker.
Maybe she and Parker would still have been married today, but more likely not. And in the end, did it really matter? There was a good chance they’d have been unhappy even if they’d managed to remain married. She could see that now, from the man Parker had become—and the woman she’d become.
She thought again about Matt. He’d laid down his ego for her. He’d risked teasing from his brothers and raised eyebrows from others in order to help her with the Operatic League benefit. He’d taken a crash course in the techniques of Swedish massage. He’d brought food for Felix. And with varying levels of resistance, he’d let her redo his apartment and make him over.
Most importantly, he’d taught her how to fully experience true passion.
She had to give him a chance to explain—really explain—why he hadn’t told her about his conversation with Parker. And even if the explanation wasn’t convincing, she at least needed to have him see her perspective on the issue.
Because in the end, she had no choice. Because in the end, she still loved him.
Ten
“Well, see you Monday,” Candace called on her way out the door, “and don’t do anything I wouldn’t do.”
Lauren tried for a nonchalant smile. “Small chance of that.”
“Oh, I don’t know—” Candace winked “—recently you’ve had a wilder life than I have.”
When the door closed behind Candace, Lauren was faced with the hushed emptiness of Ideal Match’s office.
She thought about the diamond necklace and earrings in a locked drawer of her desk. Her plan was to hand deliver them to Matt after work today.
She’d told herself it was the most logical way to get expensive jewels back to him, but in her heart, she knew her primary motivation was something else. If she deceived herself into thinking she was only going to return the jewelry, however, it was easier to find the courage to show up on his doorstep.
In fact, the only thing that had kept her away up to now was figuring out exactly what she’d say to him.
She hadn’t told Candace about her plan for the evening because she knew her receptionist would jump to conclusions. Of course, perhaps that was why Candace had felt free to schedule a new client for her for the end of the day.
She sighed. With any luck, this meeting would be quick, and then she could get out of here to see Matt.
Itching for something to do while she waited, she gave in to temptation and retrieved his jewelry from her locked desk.
She touched the necklace with her fingertips, thinking back to how she’d felt when she’d first received it.
Overwhelmed. Emotions had bubbled up inside her, one after another.
Not giving herself time to think, she put the necklace and earrings on. It might be the last chance she had to wear them.
In some pitiable way, looking at them and trying them on when alone this week had made her feel closer to Matt. She recalled the look in his eyes when she’d paired them with the green gown, and her pulse fluttered.
A sudden sound from the reception area alerted her to the arrival of the last client of the day. Darn.
Candace must have left instructions with the security desk downstairs to allow up their after- hours visitor.
She looked down at herself. She supposed she didn’t look too odd wearing a diamond necklace and earrings with a wool skirt and a V-neck blouse. And anyway, she really didn’t have time to fiddle with taking off the jewelry.
She walked into the reception room, and came to a dead halt, her heart skipping a beat.
Matt.
They stared at each other for a moment.
As usual, he looked gorgeous, though a little windblown.
Still, after a beat, she noticed the shadows under his eyes and the deeper grooves around his mouth. He looked tired or sleep deprived, or maybe both.
He looked like she felt.
“What are you doing here?” she blurted.