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Jack glanced at Marnie. A slow smile stole across his face and a quiver ran through her. “Yes, someone very pretty. So be on your best behavior.”
His father chuckled. “That’s no fun. The only thing that gets me out of bed in the morning is the potential for bad behavior.”
Beside her, Jack rolled his eyes and grinned. Parents, he mouthed.
Seemed she wasn’t the only one with a troublesome parent. Jack handled his father with a nice degree of love and humor. That tender touch raised her esteem for him, and had her looking past the suit and tie. Intriguing man. Almost…intoxicating.
She didn’t have time, or room, in her life for being intrigued by a man, though, especially since her business took nearly every spare moment. Even one as handsome as him.
She could almost hear her mother screaming in disagreement, but Marnie knew her business and herself. If she got involved with someone right now, it would be a distraction. Maybe down the road, when her business and life were more settled…
Someday when?
She’d been saying “someday” for years. And had to find the right moment—or the right man—to make her open her heart to love.
“I called because I was wondering when you’d be home,” Jack’s father was saying. “You work more hours than the President, for God’s sake.”
Marnie bit back a laugh. It could have been her conversation with her mother a little while ago. She half expected his father to schedule a blind date brunch, too.
“I’m on my way.” Jack flicked a glance at the dashboard clock. “Give me twenty minutes. Did you eat?”
“Yeah. Sandwiches. Again. Lord knows you don’t have anything in that refrigerator of yours besides beer and moldy takeout.”
“Because I’m never there to eat.”
“Exactly.” Jack’s father cleared his throat. “I have an idea. Maybe…you should bring your pretty companion home for a—”
“Hey, no embarrassing statements, remember?”
His father chuckled. “Okay, okay. Drive safe.”
Jack told his father he’d be home soon, then said goodbye and disconnected the call. “Sorry about that,” Jack said to Marnie. “My dad is…needy sometimes. Even though it’s been a few years since he got divorced, it’s like he’s been lost.”
“My mother is the same way. She calls me every five minutes to make sure I’m eating my vegetables, wearing sunscreen and not working too much.”
He chuckled. “Sounds like we have the same parent. Ever since my dad sold his house, he’s been living with me, while he tries to figure out if he wants to stay in Boston or high-tail it for sunny Florida. He thinks that means he should comment on everything I do and every piece of furniture in my apartment.”
“And what is or isn’t in your fridge.” Marnie’s mom stopped by Marnie’s condo almost every Sunday after church, but less to visit than to do a responsible child check. You need more vegetables, her mother would say. Or you should cook for yourself more often. And the best, if you had a man in your life, you wouldn’t have to do that. Marnie loved her mother, but had realized a long time ago that a mother’s love could be…invasive. “I get the whole you should make more time for homecooked meals and a personal life lecture on a weekly basis. I think my mother forgets how many hours I work. The last thing I want to do when I get home is whip up a platter of lasagna.”
“I think they go to school for that,” Jack said. “How to Bug Your Adult Kids 101.”
She laughed. It did sound like they had the same parent. “Maybe you should get your dad involved in something else, something that keeps him too busy to focus on you. There are all kinds of singles events for people his age. Some of them are dates in disguise, get-togethers centered around hobbies, like cooking or pets,” Marnie said, unable to stop work talk from invading every second of her day. My lord, she was a compulsive matchmaker. And one who needed to take her own advice. First thing tomorrow, she was going to look into dates for Ma and someday soon, she’d nicely tell her mother to butt out.
Yeah, right. Marnie had yet to do that to anyone, especially her mother. But she could tell others what to do. That she excelled at, according to her sisters.
Jack nodded. “I tried that before, years ago, but it didn’t go so well. But you’re right—maybe if I try again, now that some time has passed since all that upheaval, my dad will be more open to doing some activities, especially ones that get him dating again.”
“And if he meets someone else—”
“He won’t have time to worry about my fridge or my hours.” Jack laughed. “Ah, such a devious plan we’ve concocted.”
“As long as it works.” She grinned.
Jack turned onto Marnie’s street. A flicker of disappointment ran through her as the ride came to an end. “It’s the fourth one on the right,” she said. “With the flowers out front.”
Invite him in? Or call it a night?
He slowed the car, then stopped at her building’s entrance. “Nice looking place. I love these brick buildings from the early 1900s. It’s always nice to see the architecture get preserved when the building gets repurposed. Not every owner appreciates history like that.”
“Me, too. Coming home is like stepping into history.” She smiled, then put out her hand. Impersonal, business-like. “Well, thank you for the ride.”
That zing ran through her again when his large hand enfolded hers. For a second, she had the crazy thought of yanking on his hand, pulling him across the car, and kissing him. His broad chest against hers, his lips dancing around her mouth, his hands—
Wow. She needed to sleep more or get extra potassium or something.
“It was the least I could do after you stayed,” Jack was saying. He released her hand. Darn. “Especially after you had a long day yourself.”
Focus on the words he’s speaking, not the fantasy. She jerked her gaze away from his mouth. “It was no trouble.”
He grinned. “You said that already.”
“Oh, well, I’m just really…tired.”
“Yeah, me, too. I had a long day, made longer by someone who dropped the ball on some important paperwork. I got everything back on track, but…what a day.” He ran a hand through his hair, displacing the dark locks. “Anyway, I’m sorry again about losing my temper back there.”
“I would have done the same thing if my trunk looked like an origami project,” she said.
He glanced in the rearview mirror and shrugged off the damaged rear. “It gives my insurance agent something to do.”
She laughed. “True. Anyway, thanks again. Have a good night.”
“You, too.” He reached for her before she got out of the car, a light, quick touch on her arm. But still enough to send heat searing along her skin. “Would you like to go get a cup of coffee or a drink? We could sit around and complain about our jobs, our meddling parents, bad cab drivers and whatever else we can think of?”
A part of her wanted to say yes, but the realistic part piped up, reminding her of the time and her To Do list, and her no-men-for-the-foreseeable-future resolve. Besides, there was something about that zing, something that told her if she caved, she’d be lost, swept in a tsunami. The mere thought terrified her. “I can’t. It’s late. And I have an early day tomorrow.”
“On Saturday?”
She raised one shoulder, let it drop. “My job is a 24/7 kind of thing.”
He chuckled. “Mine, too. And even though every year I vow to work less and play more…”
“You don’t.”
He nodded.
“Me, too.” Because work was easier than confronting the reasons why she worked too much. Because work was easier than taking a chance on love. Work she could control, depend upon. Love, not so much. But she didn’t say any of that. She released the door handle, and shifted to face him.
Despite the fear, she didn’t want to leave. Right now, with Jack looking at her like that, his eyes lit by the street light above and his strong jaw cast in a dark shadow, her resistance was at an all-time low. Desire pulsed in her veins. She wished she had dragged him across the car and kissed him silly when she’d had the chance. So she delayed leaving a bit longer.
“What do you do for work that keeps you busy late into the day and also on weekends?” She put a finger to her lip and gave him a flirty smile. “Let me guess. Lawyer?”
“Hell, no.” He glanced down. “Oh, I get it. Pinstripe suit, power tie. Screams waiting to sue to you?”
“Well, if the Brooks Brothers fits…”
His smile widened, ending with a dimple. Oh, God. Dimples. She’d always been a sucker for them.
“I’m…an investor,” Jack said. “Of sorts.”
“Of sorts?”
“I buy and sell businesses. I find ones that need a cash infusion, and if I think they’re viable, I invest. If I think they’re not, I buy them and either sell them again or break up the pieces and sell it off.”
A shiver ran down her back. The leather seemed to chafe now, not comfort. “You’re…a corporate raider?”
“I’m a little nicer than that. And I tend to work with small to medium-sized businesses, not giant Goliaths.”
The connection fused in her mind. His job. His name.
Jack Knight. Owner of Knight Enterprises. A “business investor”—a euphemism for his true identity. Jack Knight was a vulture. Feeding off the carcasses of desperate business owners.
It had to have been the exhaustion of the day that had kept her from putting the pieces together until now. How could she have misread all the clues?
And to think she’d wanted to kiss him five minutes ago. She bristled. “The size doesn’t matter to the company that gets sold off, or taken over, or destroyed in the process of that kind of ‘help.’”
“I must have given you the wrong impression. There’s more to it—”
“No, there really isn’t. You destroy people’s companies, and their lives.” The words sprang to life in her throat, fueled by exhaustion, shock, and surprised even Marnie with their vehemence. She never did this, never showed outrage, never yelled. Jack Knight had brought out this other side of her, with a roar. “Do you even think about what happens to those people after you swoop in and tear their company to shreds? They spent their lives building those companies, and in an instant, you take it all away. And for what? A bottom line? A few more dollars in your pocket? Another sports car for the collection?” She let out a gust, then grabbed the door handle. It stuck, then yielded, and fresh night air washed over her. She’d gotten distracted, by a dimple and a zing. Idiot. “Goodnight.”
“Wait. What did—”
She shut the door, cutting off his words. She’d confronted him, told him off, and told herself it felt good to finally say what she should say, exactly when she was supposed to say it. Jack idled in the space for a moment, then finally, he drove away, swallowed by the night.
Disappointment hit her first. If only she’d kissed him. If only she’d let herself get talked into that cup of coffee.
If only he’d been someone other than Jack Knight.
Then righteous indignation rose in her chest. He was the one at fault, not her. He was the one who had ruined her father’s company, not her. If she’d told him what she really wanted to say to him, if she’d really let the confrontation loose, she’d have resorted to some very unlady-like behavior, and she refused to give him that satisfaction. Jack Knight didn’t deserve it, not after what he had done to her father.
So she had said goodnight, got out of Cinderella’s carriage, and went back to the real world, where princes didn’t come along very often, and there were no mice to do the work for her.
CHAPTER TWO
“ARE YOU GOING to admit I was right?” Marnie whispered to her mother. They were standing to the side of the private dining room of an upscale Boston restaurant on a sunny Saturday afternoon. Soft jazz music filled the air, accented by the rise and fall of a dozen human voices.
A blush filled Helen’s cheeks, making her look ten years younger. She had her chestnut hair up tonight, which elongated her neck and offset her deep green eyes. The dark blue dress she’d worn skimmed her calves, and defined the hourglass shape she’d maintained all her life, even after giving birth to three children. Coupled with the light in her eyes and the smile on her face, Helen looked prettier than ever, and far younger than her fifty-eight years.
“Yes, you were right, daughter dear,” Helen whispered back. “How’d I get such a smart child?”
“You gave me great genes.” Marnie glanced over the room. Cozy and intimate, the private dining space offered a prime location, great parking and an outstanding menu, making it perfect for Matchmaking by Marnie meet and greets. In her experience, full and happy stomachs equaled happy people who then struck up conversations.
Today, she’d invited ten bachelors to meet her mother, and set up a buffet of finger foods on the far right side of the room. While they noshed on chicken satay and mini eggrolls, Helen circulated. Three days ago, when Marnie and Erica had proposed the idea of a mixer to Helen, she’d refused, insisting she didn’t need to be fixed up, and didn’t want to be, but after a while, she’d relented and agreed to “put in an appearance.”
That appearance had lasted more than an hour now. Once the first man talked to Helen, and two more joined the conversation, Marnie had watched her mother transform into a giggling schoolgirl, flattered by all the sudden attention. Marnie made sure each bachelor got equal time, then stepped back and allowed the pieces to fall where they may. She’d paved the way, then let Mother Nature finish giving directions.
“So,” Marnie said, leaning in closer so they wouldn’t be overheard, “is there one man in particular who you like the most?”
Pink bloomed in Helen’s cheeks. “Do you see the one standing by the bar?”
“The tall man with the gray hair?” Marnie and Erica had interviewed so many eligible gentlemen in the fifty-to sixty-plus age range that some of them had become a bit of a blur. She didn’t remember the details of this man, only that he had impressed her during the group interviews.
“His name’s Dan. He’s retired from his landscaping business, hates to golf, but loves to watch old movies.” Her mother grinned, and in that smile, Marnie could see the energy of a new relationship already blossoming. “And, you’ll never guess what his favorite movie is.”
Marnie put a finger to her lip. “Hmm…Casablanca?”
Helen nodded. “Just like me. We like the same kind of wine, the same kind of music, and both of us love to travel.”
“Sounds like a match made in heaven.” Marnie grinned. “Or a match made by a daughter who knows her mother very well.”
Helen chuckled. “Well, I wouldn’t say it’s a perfect match…yet, but it’s got potential. Big potential. Now, if only we could find someone for you.” Helen brushed a lock of hair off Marnie’s forehead. “You deserve to be happy, sweetheart.”
“I am happy.” And she was, Marnie told herself. She had a business she loved, a purpose to her life, and a family that might annoy her sometimes, but had always been her personal rock. She gave her mother a quick hug, then headed for the front of the room, waiting until everyone’s attention swiveled toward her before speaking. She noticed Dan’s gaze remained on her mother, while Helen snuck quick glances back in his direction, like two teenagers at a football game.
“I wanted to thank you all for coming today, and if you weren’t lucky enough to be chosen by our amazing and beautiful bachelorette,” Marnie gestured toward her mother, who waved off the compliment, “don’t worry. My goal at Matchmaking by Marnie is to give everyone a happy ending. So work with me, and I promise, I’ll help you find your perfect match.”
The bachelors thanked her, and began to file out of the room. Dan lingered, chatting with Marnie’s mother. She laughed and flirted, seeming like an entirely different person, the person she used to be years and years ago. Marnie sent up a silent prayer of gratitude. Her mother had been lonely for a long time, and it was nice to see her happy again.
The waitstaff began taking away the dishes and cleaning the tables. Marnie gathered her purse and jacket, then touched her mother on the arm. “I’m going to get going, Ma. Call me later, okay?”
Her mother promised, then returned her attention to Dan. The two of them were still chatting when Marnie headed out of the restaurant. She stood by the valet counter, waiting for the valet to return with her car, when a black sports car pulled up to the station. The passenger’s side window slid down. “You’re like a bad penny, turning up everywhere I go.”
The voice took a second to register in her mind. It had been a couple weeks since she’d last heard that deep baritone, and in the busy-ness of working twenty-hour days, she’d nearly forgotten the encounter.
Almost.
Late at night, when she was alone and the day had gone quiet, her mind would wander and she’d wonder what might have happened if he’d been someone other than Jack Knight and she’d agreed to that cup of coffee. Then she would jerk herself back to reality.
Jack Knight was the worst kind of corporate vermin—and the last kind of man she should be thinking about late at night, or any time. Of all the people in the city of Boston, how did she end up running into him twice?
She bent down and peered inside the car. Jack grinned back at her. He had a hell of a smile, she’d give him that. The kind of smile that charmed and tempted, all at once. Yeah, like a snake. “Speaking of bad pennies,” she said, “what are you doing here?”
“Picking up my father.” His head disappeared from view, and a moment later, he had stepped out of the car and crossed to her. He had on khakis and a pale blue button-down shirt, the wrinkled bottom slightly untucked, the top two buttons undone, as if he was just knocking off after putting in a full day of work, even on a Saturday. He looked sexy, approachable. If she ignored his name and his job, that was.
She didn’t want to like him, didn’t want to find his smile alluring or his eyes intriguing. He was a Knight, and she needed to remember that. She was about to say goodbye and end the conversation before it really had a chance to start, when the restaurant door opened and her mother and Dan stepped onto the sidewalk.
“Marnie, you’re still here?” Helen said.
“Jack, you’re here early,” Dan said.
The pieces clicked together in Marnie’s mind. The timing of Jack’s arrival. Picking up my father, he’d said.
She glanced from one man to the other, and prayed she was wrong. “Dan’s your father?” she said to Jack, then spun back to Dan. “But…but your last name is Simpson.”
Dan grinned. “Guilty as charged. I’m this trouble-maker’s stepfather.” He draped a loving arm around Jack and gave him a quick hug.
“You know Dan’s son?” Helen asked Marnie. “You never told me that.”
“I didn’t know until just now. And, Ma, I think you should know that Jack…” Marnie started to tell her mother the rest, the truth about who Jack was, but she watched The light in her mother’s eyes dim a bit, and she couldn’t do it. The urge to keep the peace, to keep everyone happy, overpowered the words and she let them die in her throat.
Dan Simpson. Father of Jack Knight, the man whose company had ruined her family’s life.
Dan Simpson. The man her mother was falling for.
Dan Simpson. Another Mr. Wrong in a family teeming with them.
“You should know that, uh, Jack and I met the other night,” Marnie said finally. “We sort of…ran into each other.”
“Oh, my. What a small world,” Helen said, beaming again.
“Getting smaller every day.” Jack grinned at Marnie, but the smile didn’t sway her. “How do you know my father?”
She gave a helpless shrug. “It seems I just fixed him up with my mother.”
“You’ve got one talented matchmaker standing here,” Dan said, giving Helen’s hand a squeeze. “You should see if she can fix you up, too, Jack.”
Fix him up? She’d rather die first.
“You’re a matchmaker?” Jack raised a brow in amusement.
“Guilty as charged,” she said, echoing Dan’s words.
Her brain swam with the incongruity of the situation. How could she have created such a disaster? Usually her instincts were right on, but this time, they had failed her. And she’d created a mess of epic proportion. One that was slipping out of her control more every second.
Beside her, Dan and Helen were chatting, making plans for dinner or lunch or something. They were off to the side, caught in their own world of just the two of them. All of Marnie’s senses were attuned to Jack—the enemy of her family and son of the man who had finally put a smile on her mother’s face. How was she supposed to tell Ma the truth, and in the process, break a heart that had just begun to mend?
Jack leaned in then, close, his breath a heated whisper against her ear. “I’m surprised you didn’t try to fix me up the night we met.”
“I wouldn’t do that to one of my clients,” she whispered back.
Confusion filled his blue eyes, a confusion she had no intent of erasing, not here, not now.
“I’m not sure what I did to make you despise me,” he said, “but I assure you, I’m not nearly as bad as you think.”
“No, you’re not,” she said just as the valet arrived with her car. She opened the door, and held Jack’s gaze over the roof. “You’re worse.”
Then she got in her car and pulled away.
A matchmaker.
Of all the jobs Jack would have thought the fiery redhead Marnie Franklin held, matchmaker sat at the very bottom of the list. Yet, the title seemed to suit her, to match her strong personality, her crimson hair, her quick tongue.
His stepfather had raved about Marnie’s skills the entire ride from the restaurant to the repair shop to pick up the car the taxi driver had rear-ended, return the rental, then head home. The event had agreed with Dan, giving his hearty features a new energy, and his voice renewed enthusiasm, as if he’d reverse-aged in one afternoon. At six-foot two, with a full head of gray hair, Dan cut an imposing figure offset by a ready smile and pale green eyes. Eyes that now lit with joy every time he talked about Helen.
“I never would have expected to fall for the match-maker’s mother,” Dan said. “But I tell ya, Jack, I really like Helen.”
“I’m glad,” Jack said. And he was. His stepfather had been alone for a long, long time, and deserved happiness. Just with someone other than Marnie Franklin’s maternal relatives. The woman had something against him, that was clear.
“Her daughter’s quite pretty, too, you know,” Dan said.
“Really? I hadn’t noticed.”
Dan laughed. “You lie about as well as I cook. I saw you checking her out.”
“That was a reflex.”
“Sure it was.” Dan shifted in his seat to study his son. “You know, you should use some of the arguments you used on me.”
Jack concentrated on the road. Boston traffic in the middle of the day required all his attention. Yeah, that was why he didn’t look Dan in the eye. Because of the cars on the road. “What are you talking about?”
“The list of reasons why I should go to that event—and I’m glad I did, by the way—is the same list I should give you about why you should ask Marnie out.”
“I did. She turned me down.”
“And?”
“And what? End of story.” He didn’t want to get into the reasons why he had no intentions of dating anyone right now. He, of all people, should steer far and wide from anything resembling a relationship.
He could bring a business back to life, turn around a lackluster bottom line, but when it came to personal relationships, he was—
Well, Tanya had called him unavailable. Uninvolved. Cold, even. More addicted to his smartphone than her.
A year after the end of their relationship, he’d had to admit she had a point. When he woke up in the morning, his first thought was the latest business venture, not the woman in his life.