A Matchless Romance Page 12

  “Then why’d you ask?” Yep, they were off to a great start. He’d had better conversations with a metermaid mid-ticket.

  “To be polite. Social conventions and all. Something which you’ve claimed from day one to lack. So, my bad.”

  That stung. She was the one who’d discarded him faster than he’d trashed their used condom. The one who practically tossed him out of the room once Ashley returned. Not that he wanted to stay. How was he supposed to make small talk with Ashley thirty seconds after having the best sex ever with one of her closest friends? When all he could think about was the way Tabitha felt writhing beneath him. The husky moans she’d let out. The scent of her arousal, mixed with the tropical citrus scent of her perfume. All of that derailed a guy from coming up with polite chit-chat.

  Besides, her actions made it clear she was done with him. Just like the women he’d hooked up with at college, during training, and even at the Summer Games. They liked his body. Liked it a lot that he knew his way around theirs. But they had no interest in sticking around and dating a “nerdy brainiac,” as he’d heard more than once. Ironic, how guys often complained about beautiful women that were too dumb and boring to date.

  Drew had the opposite problem. Women hadn’t wanted to put up with his rigorous training schedule. Even more of a problem, women whose eyes glazed over when he started talking about his video games. The design, the storyline, the art, the marketing—nobody shared his passion. Or even bothered to try.

  So it didn’t come as any great surprise that Tabitha couldn’t get rid of him fast enough. Although disappointed, Drew knew the drill. He’d left. And some stubborn part of him still, stupidly, waited for her to call. But she didn’t. Didn’t even send him a reminder text about tonight’s event. Something he’d expected, at the very least, from his well-paid consultant.

  “I’m here. As agreed.” Best to stick to the facts. Clearly Tabitha didn’t have any emotional involvement. Drew intended to pretend the same. To pretend that he didn’t crave more time with her. More…everything. In fact, he had to shove his hands in the pockets of his new pants just to keep from reaching out and touching her.

  Tabitha fisted her hands on her hips. “Look, this is simple. You have to go out there and mingle. Politely. Easily. Without tripping over your own tongue or accidentally insulting anyone. That’ll be the proof that you’re ready for New York.”

  The whole point of tonight’s Match-n-Mingle, for everyone else, was to get a date. Drew had zero motivation for trying to get a woman to look twice at him. Tabitha’s attitude proved that no matter how much a woman looked at him, they wouldn’t want to stick around. Which meant he was good cooling his heels in here all night.

  “I did fine with your friends at the store the other night. That should be good enough.”

  At her desk, Tabitha rustled through a stack of papers. Probably because it gave her an excuse not to look at him. And to yet again hammer home that the only thing between she and Drew was business, pure and simple. “You told me that Keiko’s going to be all over the podcast. She’ll notice if you’re a no-show. Then you won’t get your bonus to help your grandmother. And I won’t get paid.”

  His heart sank straight past his gonads. There it was. Proof that now that she’d had her fill of his body, Tabitha saw him as nothing more than a looming payday. Drew had suspected it all along. And yet, he’d still let some idiotic seed of hope lodge in his chest that for once, he might’ve found a woman who wanted to be with his brain and his body. For a smart guy, he’d been dumber than a box of obsolete hardware when it came to Tabitha.

  “Can you blame me for not wanting to go out there and let a roomful of women pick over me like a steamed shrimp platter at a buffet?” he asked.

  “Frankly, yes.” Tabitha tossed the papers down and straightened. “I’ve told you from the start that your troubles are all in your head.”

  “I lost Game Domain a multi-million-dollar client.” A timely reminder that it was smarter to keep his attention fully on Quest. Eyes on the prize. Starting a relationship now—if that was even what he’d been considering—would be stupid. It was the wrong time to let anything distract him from his work. Especially something as complicated as a girlfriend. Tabitha did him a favor by walking away. Right?

  “Because you didn’t bother to think before opening your mouth. And that’s only because you’re a newbie in the corporate world. Everyone makes mistakes like that starting out.” Tabitha closed the door, then leaned back against it, arms folded. “You’ve never had a bit of trouble talking to me.”

  “You’re an anomaly.” Because Drew had fallen head over heels for her the moment he’d—quite literally—fallen over her. Not that he’d admit that to her now.

  Tabitha didn’t back down. “Aside from acting a little clueless, you were fine at the wedding. At work, you’re the king of the freaking castle. And yet you’re oblivious when women throw themselves at you. All because way back in high school, a few girls made fun of you.” She ticked off points on her fingers. “Called you a nerd. Wouldn’t hook up with you at the homecoming dance.”

  “Easy to be flippant about someone else’s life.”

  “Whatever.” A dismissive wave of her hand. One that set his blood to boiling in a whole new way. “Ever since, you’ve carried a chip on your shoulder. A certainty that your physical side and your massive, important brain are two separate entities.” Her cutting tone mocked him as viciously as her words. “But they’re not. Your stubborn, stupid misconception is the only problem you’ve got. Face up to it. Because this whole delusion that you can’t relate to women? It’s been a waste of my time.”

  Fine. Tabitha wanted to take things down a level? Get nasty? Drew didn’t intend to let her wallow down in that mud pit alone. Not when his heart was already down there, coated in cold, wet, filthy despair. He’d pick up that mud and sling it back at her. Drew got right up in her face. Close enough to smell her damned intoxicating perfume. Caged her in with his arms braced against the door.

  “You’re getting paid for your services, Ms. Bell. I could make you walk a turtle on a rhinestone-encrusted leash down Clybourn Street, and it wouldn’t be a waste of time. Not for what Game Domain is paying you.”

  “Damn it, Drew. You’re using this perceived awkwardness that exists wholly in your mind as an excuse to hide from life. Even more so, you’re hiding from any shot at love.”

  Really? Tabitha wanted to bring love into this fight? Drew could read between the lines. What she really meant was that he was blowing her plans for him to get spruced up enough to become a second-tier client of A Matchless Romance. So that she could bilk him for more money. Well, she wasn’t the only one who could shine a spotlight on a problem.

  “That’s rich. You’re no better. You spend all your time flitting from volunteering with women to a general social whirl…with more women. And only women. You’re hiding in plain sight from love.”

  “It’s a choice,” she hissed between gritted teeth. “Can you admit that you’re choosing to play the victim?”

  Hell, no. Drew couldn’t help it. His lower body angled closer until his hips pinned hers to the door. God, he hated how good it felt. “I’m no victim. And I’m not hiding. I’m going to go out there and charm every single woman in the room. Walk out with as many phone numbers as I can stuff in my pocket. Will that make you happy?”

  Tabitha curled her lip into a sneer. “Very.”

  Damn. It sure wouldn’t make Drew happy. Not at all.

  Chapter Eight

  Milo stood at the top of the stairs and looked across the second floor of A Fine Romance, crowded wall to wall with bodies. “I’d call this nothing less than a smash. You must be in a good mood,” he commented.

  “Mmm hmm.”

  Oh, Tabitha was in a mood, all right. The kind of mood that didn’t go away after a good night’s sleep. Or a pedicure with those amazing massage chairs. Or ice cream. Or even all of the above. Her fight with Drew had sucked all the enjoyment
out of tonight’s Match-n-Mingle event. An event she’d planned and micro-managed to the nth degree. Wines had been tasted. The extensive song list that took her days to create hummed through the speakers. And she’d found a cheesemaker just across the border in Wisconsin, desperate for exposure. He’d provided all the cheeses for free. But the crown jewel to all this planning was scoring the live podcast. The brilliant marketing move which should catapult A Matchless Romance into the buzziest, hottest new must-do thing in Chicago.

  The vibe bouncing off the brick walls wasexcited. Full of anticipation. In bars, people often clung to the edges of the room and tried to look cool instead of interested. But tonight, everyone was here for the same reason. To try to find their match. A soul mate. A lover.

  Instead of celebrating her triumph, Tabitha sulked in a corner. At least, it felt like that on the inside. To any casual observer, she should appear as a consummate professional. Tablet in hand, a warm smile firmly fixed in place, Tabitha pretended to keep an eagle eye on all the laughing, chattering men and women. When really, all her perception fixated on Drew.

  Milo gave her a one-armed hug. One-armed because his other hand clutched a brimming wine glass. And Tabitha had quickly learned never to get between Milo and a full glass. “You should pat yourself on the back, Tabby. Drew looks great tonight.”

  Oh yes, he did. The micro suede shirt in gunmetal blue emphasized the color of his eyes. Its cut emphasized his broad shoulders—the ones she vividly remembered clutching—and the open collar showed off a dark sprig of chest hair. Sexy enough to make any woman from eighteen to eighty drool over him. “Pat yourself on the back. You’re the one who put the entire outfit onto his purchase pile Friday night.”

  “I did, didn’t I?” Milo made a big show of reaching around to slap the back of his crushed velvet blazer. “But you deserve full credit for Drew’s transformation. I liked the guy from the get-go—”

  Tabitha cut him off with a raised hand and a mocking grin. “You had the hots for him from the get-go,” she corrected. Easy to spot, since she’d had lusty quivers in her belly for the oh-so-literal hottie from the moment they started talking about his game. His stupid, wonderful video game that she adored playing, but would probably have to give up. It would remind her too much of Drew. And now that he’d hammered home that he was done with her, she needed to do everything possible to not think about him.

  “Too true,” Milo agreed with a breezy wave of his hand that almost spilled red wine all over his ruffled, throwback tuxedo shirt. “He’s different tonight, though. Thanks, I’m sure, entirely to your coaching. He’s more animated. More self-assured. A little more…on. Drew 2.0, I’d say. Talking to all those women isn’t fazing him a bit.”

  Somehow, despite a jaw locked tight with almost equal parts anger and jealousy, Tabitha squeezed out two words. “I noticed.”

  Stupid. No reason to be jealous. As he’d so callously pointed out, her job was to meld the disparate sides of him into a single, charming man. The kind of man equally at ease behind a computer and presenting to the fifth richest woman in Chicago. A man who realized his own self-worth, and carried himself with confidence not just when in his comfort zone, but everywhere. And she’d pulled it off. So…yay for her. Too bad the cost to Tabitha was one battered and bloody heart. Where was she supposed to put that on the profit and loss statement for A Matchless Romance?

  The cynical part of her, the part honed to a crystalline sharpness by her mother over the years, had always expected him to replicate the behavior of so many other men. To move on the moment a conquest was made. But the ever-hopeful section of her heart, the part that made her wish for true love for every single couple she matched up, had thought Drew might be different. Might be waiting for a woman who appreciated his uniqueness. Who adored the quirky combination of his bright, creative mind and his killer athlete’s body.

  “You’ve earned more than a pat on the back, Milo. I think I owe you dinner. The turnout is phenomenal.” There were, to her utter relief, men sprinkled throughout the room. More than enough to go around. None of them clumped up. Every last one was engaging a woman—or two, in some cases. It was exactly as Tabitha had planned. “How’d you rustle up so many men with such short notice?”

  “Am I supposed to reveal all my secrets?”

  “God, no. But for the sake of the business, why don’t you tell me this one?”

  Milo cupped his hand around Tabitha’s ear. In a loud whisper, he said, “I called Drew.”

  She didn’t know what to make of his statement. All she knew was that it felt wrong on every level. “What? Why? Why would you do that?”

  “He’s got all those guys at Game Domain who work for him. And he belongs to that marathon training club. The man’s awash in, well, men. I figured he could put out a few feelers and rustle up a couple of warm bodies. I had no idea he’d come through so magnificently, though. My guesstimate is that he’s responsible for at least half the men in this room, if not more.”

  “He saved me. He saved this event, and tangentially, my job.” Tabitha sank onto a high-backed stool, overcome. Then she looked over at Drew, surrounded by three blondes who appeared to be hanging on his every word. The difference was that this time, he seemed quite aware that they wanted him. He also seemed to be lapping up the attention, to her dismay.

  “Yup. Oh, and that’s not all he did.”

  With a weak laugh, she asked, “Did he buy me a winning lottery ticket, too?”

  Milo hip-checked her with a laugh. “No. But you could say he saved you about fifty dollars. That dinner you just promised me? It’s not necessary. I’ve already been compensated for my troubles.”

  “I can’t wait to hear how.”

  “See the guy in the poet shirt and lavender pants over by the wine table?”

  In a sea of khakis, button-downs and sport coats, the man with the big puffy sleeves and lace-up shirt stuck out like a neon light in a coal mine. “How could I miss him?”

  “Well, that’s Matthew. Drew brought him for me.”

  Tabitha had no idea how to interpret that statement. “What do you mean, he brought him for you? Like a party favor?”

  “Matthew’s his roommate. He thought we should meet.” Milo set his glass down. Threw both palms on the table and leaned in and gushed faster than Niagara Falls. “Oh my God, Tabby, he’s perfect for me. He works in the costume shop for the Lyric Opera Ballet. Matthew might actually like clothes more than I do, if that’s even possible. He’s beyond adorable, and he thinks I’m fantabulous. His word—fantabulous! We’re leaving soon, to go on our first real date at Pops for Champagne. Because we need to toast each other for the first time with bubbles.”

  Guess finding Milo a man was one thing Tabitha could cross off her to-do list. “I’m happy for you. Don’t stick around for my sake. Go take Matthew and get a jump-start on that first date.”

  After a big, smacking kiss on the cheek, Milo bounded off. To go be happy. Something Tabitha would only have to pretend to be for another hour. One more interview-slash-sales-pitch for the podcast, and then she could go home and wallow. She scanned the room for Sallie, the perky interviewer. Found her advancing on Drew, microphone in hand. Tabitha couldn’t resist inching closer to listen.

  “Drew Weston. Trackmedalist. Designer of some of the hottest video games burning up the market.” She tossed her high ponytail and gave him a head-to-toe once-over. “I wouldn’t think a man like you would need to come to a matchmaker in order to find a woman.”

  He turned his long, lean body in to the mic a bit. Touched her on her arm. It gave the impression Drew was having an intimate conversation with Sallie. Oh, he was good. And rankled Tabitha to the core because she knew darn well he’d gotten that move from watching her.

  “I’m thrilled to be at A Matchless Romance tonight. It’s great to have one spot where I can find so many attractive, interesting women.”

  “So far the women I’ve talked to include a veterinarian,” she looked down, consu
lting her notes, “a trader, a model and a lawyer. How on earth will you choose?”

  Drew dug a hand in his pocket. Came up with a handful of business cards. Then repeated that motion with his other hand in his other pocket. He spread them out with the flair of a blackjack dealer. “Options are good. It wouldn’t do me any good to rush into a decision. Pro/con lists can be helpful in these situations.”

  Tabitha bit back a snort. As usual, her handsome nerd went with the literal answer. Why did she find that so darn adorable?

  “Gotta admit, narrowing it down to one perfect match will be a complicated process. It could take weeks, maybe even months.” Then he tossed the cards onto a nearby table. Grabbed the two women closest to him and draped his arms around their shoulders. As they snuggled up to him, Drew said, “Believe me, I intend to enjoy every minute of it.”

  Gloating. That was the only way to sum up the cocky smirk and twinkle in his eye. Tabitha turned away. No, make that hurried all the way back to the restroom as tears began welling in her eyes. It really was over. Drew had successfully turned into a smooth-talking ladies man. One who knew just how great he was. And she had no one to blame but herself.

  * * *

  “Compared to all the sexual gymnastics of your honeymoon, Ivy, yoga today will be a breeze,” said Mira.

  Tabitha and Daphne both giggled. It felt good to laugh after wallowing for two days. It was all Tabitha would allow herself. When Ivy set up this group yoga date, Tabitha had jumped at the chance to get out and see her friends. Mira had spent the entire trip on the El trying to get Ivy to share some juicy particulars. Now, even as they waited to cross Michigan Avenue in a crowd of early-morning tourists, dog-walkers and the first Segway tour of the day, she wouldn’t relent.

  Resettling the purple strap of her yoga mat on her shoulder, Ivy shook her head. “Nice try. I’m not spilling any details. Not where or when or how often or how truly magnificent a sexual creature my husband may indeed be. Stop trying to live vicariously through me. You’ll have your own honeymoon before Halloween.”