The Perfect Match: First Comes Marriage / Yours and Mine

“You’re right about that—you’re the last person I’d ever consider marrying,” she lashed out, then regretted her reaction when she saw his face tighten.

“That’s what I thought.” He attacked his spaghetti as though the clams were scampering around his plate.

The tension between them mounted. When the waitress arrived to remove their plates, Janine had barely touched her meal. Zach hadn’t eaten much, either.

After paying for their dinner, Zach walked her to her car, offering no further comment. As far as Janine was concerned, their meeting hadn’t been at all productive. She felt certain that Zach was everything Gramps claimed—incisive, intelligent, intuitive. But that was at the office. As a potential husband and wife, they were completely ill-suited.

“Do you still want me to keep in touch?” she asked when she’d unlocked her car door. They stood awkwardly together in the street, and Janine realized they hardly knew what to say to each other.

“I suppose we should, since neither of us is interested in falling in with this plan of his,” Zach said. “We need to set our differences aside and work together, otherwise we might unknowingly play into his hands.”

“I won’t be swayed and you won’t, either.” Janine found the thought oddly disappointing.

“If and when I do marry,” Zach informed her, “which I sincerely doubt, I’ll choose my own bride.”

It went without saying that Janine was nothing like the woman he’d want to spend his life with.

“If and when I marry, I’ll choose my own husband,” she said, sounding equally firm. And it certainly wouldn’t be a man her grandfather had chosen.

“I don’t know if I like boys or not,” thirteen-year-old Pam Hudson admitted over a cheeseburger and French fries. “They can be so dumb.”

It’d been a week since Janine’s dinner with Zach, and she was surprised that the teenager’s assessment of the opposite sex should so closely match her own.

“I’m not even sure I like Charlie anymore,” Pam said as she stirred her catsup with a French fry. Idly she smeared it around the edges of her plate in a haphazard pattern. “I used to be so crazy about him, remember?”

Janine smiled indulgently. “Every other word was Charlie this and Charlie that.”

“He can be okay, though. Remember when he brought me that long-stemmed rose and left it on my porch?”

“I remember.” Janine’s mind flashed to the afternoon she’d met Zach. As they left the restaurant, he’d smiled at her. It wasn’t much as smiles went, but for some reason, she couldn’t seem to forget how he’d held her gaze, his dark eyes gentle, as he murmured polite nonsense. Funny how little things about this man tended to pop up in her mind at the strangest moments.

“But last week,” Pam continued, “Charlie was playing basketball with the guys, and when I walked by, he pretended he didn’t even know me.”

“That hurt, didn’t it?”

“Yeah, it did,” Pam confessed. “And after I bought a T-shirt for him, too.”

“Does he wear it?”

A gratified smile lit the girl’s eyes. “All the time.”

“By the way, I like how you’re doing your hair.”

Pam beamed. “I want it to look more like yours.”

Actually, the style suited Pam far better than it did her, Janine thought. The sides were cut close to the head, but the long bangs flopped with a life of their own—at least on Janine they did. Lately she’d taken to pinning them back.

“How are things at home?” Janine asked, watching the girl carefully. Pam’s father, Jerry Hudson, was divorced and had custody of his daughter. Pam’s mother worked on the East Coast. With no family in the area, Jerry felt that his daughter needed a woman’s influence. He’d contacted the Friendship Club about the same time Janine had applied to be a volunteer. Since Jerry worked odd hours as a short-order cook, she’d met him only once. He seemed a decent sort, working hard to make a good life for himself and his daughter.

Pam was a marvelous kid, Janine mused, and she possessed exceptional creative talent. Even before her father could afford to buy her a sewing machine, Pam had been designing and making clothes for her Barbie dolls. Janine’s bandanna dress was one of the first projects she’d completed on her new machine. Pam had made several others since; they were popular with her friends, and she was ecstatic about the success of her ideas.

“I think I might forgive Charlie,” she went on to say, her look contemplative. “I mean, he was with the guys and everything.”

“It’s not cool to let his friends know he’s got a girlfriend, huh?”

“Yeah, I guess….”

Janine wasn’t feeling nearly as forgiving toward Zach. He’d talked about their keeping in touch, but hadn’t called her since. She didn’t believe for an instant that Gramps had given up on his marriage campaign, but he’d apparently decided to let the matter rest. The pressure was off, yet Janine kept expecting some word from Zach. The least he could do was call, she grumbled to herself, although she made no attempt to analyze the reasons for her disappointment.

“Maybe Charlie isn’t so bad, after all,” Pam murmured, then added wisely, “This is an awkward age for boys, especially in their relationships with girls.”

“Say,” Janine teased, “who’s supposed to be the adult here, anyway? That’s my line.”

“Oh, sorry,”

Smiling, Janine stole a French fry from Pam’s plate and popped it into her mouth.

“So when are you leaving for Scotland?” Pam wanted to know.

“Next week.”

“How long are you going to be gone?”

“Ten days.” The trip was an unexpected gift from her grandfather. One night shortly after she’d met Zach for dinner, Gramps had handed her a packet with airline tickets and hotel reservations. When she’d asked why, his reply had been vague, even cryptic—something about her needing to get away. Since she’d always dreamed of visiting Scotland, she’d leapt at the chance.

It wasn’t until she’d driven Pam home that Janine thought she should let Zach know she was going to be out of the country. It probably wasn’t important, but he’d made such a point of saying they should keep in touch….

Janine planned her visit to the office carefully, making sure Gramps would be occupied elsewhere. Since she’d been shopping for her trip, she was carrying several department and clothing store bags. She was doing this for a reason. She wanted her visit to appear unplanned, as if in the course of a busy day, she’d suddenly remembered their agreement. She felt that dropping in would seem more spontaneous than simply calling.

“Hello,” she said to Zach’s efficient secretary, smiling cheerfully. “Is Mr. Thomas available? I’ll only need a moment of his time.”

The older woman clearly disapproved of this intrusion, but although she pursed her lips, she didn’t verbalize her objection. She pushed the intercom button and Janine felt a tingle of awareness at the sound of Zach’s strong masculine voice.

“This is a pleasant surprise,” he said, standing as Janine breezed into the room.

She set her bags on the floor and with an exaggerated sigh, eased herself into the chair opposite his desk and crossed her legs. “I’m sorry to drop in unannounced,” she said casually, “but I have some news.”

“No problem.” His gaze fell to the bags heaped on the floor. “Looks like you had a busy afternoon.”

“I was shopping.”

“So I see. Any special reason?”

“It’s my trousseau.” Melodramatically, she pressed the back of her hand against her forehead. “I can’t take the pressure anymore. I’ve come to tell you I told my grandfather to go ahead and arrange the wedding. Someday, somehow, we’ll learn to love each other.”

“This isn’t amusing. Now what’s so important that it can’t—”

“Mr. Thomas,” his secretary said crisply over the intercom, “Mr. Hartman is here to see you.”

Janine’s eyes widened in panic as her startled gaze flew to Zach, who looked equally alarmed. It would be the worst possible thing for Gramps to discover Janine alone with Zach in his office. She hated to think how he’d interpret that.

“Just a minute,” Zach said, reading the hysteria in her eyes. She marveled at how composed he sounded. He pointed toward a closed door and ushered her into a small room—or a large closet—that was practically a home away from home. A bar, refrigerator, microwave, sink and other conveniences were neatly arranged inside. No sooner was the door slammed shut behind her than it was jerked open again and three large shopping bags were tossed in.

Janine felt utterly ridiculous. She kept as still as she could, afraid to turn on the light and almost afraid to breathe for fear of being discovered.

With her ear against the door, she tried to listen to the conversation, hoping to discover just how long Gramps intended to plant himself in Zach’s office.

Unfortunately, she could barely hear a thing. She risked opening the door a crack; a quick glance revealed that both men were facing away from her. That explained why she couldn’t understand their conversation.

It was then that Janine spotted her purse. Strangling a gasp, she eased the door shut and staggered away from it. She covered her mouth as she took deep breaths. When she found the courage to edge open the door and peek again, she saw that all her grandfather had to do was glance downward.

If he shuffled his feet, his shoe would catch on the strap and he’d drag it out of the office with him.

Zach turned away from the window, and for the first time Janine could hear and see him clearly.

“I’ll take care of that right away,” he said evenly. He was so calm, so composed, as though he often kept women hidden in his closet. He must have noticed Janine’s purse because he frowned and his gaze flew accusingly toward her.

Well, for heaven’s sake, she hadn’t purposely left it there for Gramps to trip over! He wasn’t even supposed to be in the building. That very morning, he’d told her he was lunching at the Athletic Club with his longtime friend, Burt Coleman. Whenever Gramps ate lunch with his cronies, he spent the afternoon playing pinochle. Apparently he’d changed his habits, just so her hair would turn prematurely gray.

Several tortured minutes passed before Zach escorted Gramps to the door. The instant it was shut, Janine stepped into the office, blinking against the brightness after her wait in the dark. “My purse,” she said in a strangled voice. “Do you think he saw it?”

“It would be a miracle if he didn’t. Of all the stupid things to do!”

“I didn’t purposely leave it out here!”

“I’m not talking about that,” Zach growled. “I’m referring to your coming here in the first place. Are you crazy? You couldn’t have called?”

“I…had something to tell you and I was in the neighborhood.” So much for her suave, sophisticated facade. Zach was right, of course; she could have told him just as easily by phone.

He looked furious. “For the life of me I can’t think of a solitary thing that’s so important you’d do anything this foolish. If your grandfather saw the two of us together, he’d immediately jump to the wrong conclusion. Until this afternoon, everything’s been peaceful. Anton hasn’t mentioned your name once and, frankly, I appreciated that.”

His words stung. “I…I won’t make the mistake of coming again—ever,” she vowed, trying to sound dignified and aloof. She gathered her purse and her bags as quickly as possible and hurried out of the office, not caring who saw her leave, including Gramps.

“Janine, you never did say why you came.” Zach had followed her to the elevator.

Janine stared at the light above the elevator that indicated the floor number, as though it was a message of the utmost importance. Her hold on the bags was precarious and something was dragging against her feet, but she couldn’t have cared less. “I’m sorry to have imposed on your valuable time. Now that I think about it, it wasn’t even important.”

“Janine,” he coaxed, apparently regretting his earlier outburst. “I shouldn’t have yelled.”

“Yes, I know,” she said smoothly. The elevator opened and with as little ceremony as possible, she slipped inside. It wasn’t until she was over the threshold that she realized her purse strap was tangled around her feet.

So much for a dignified exit.

Four

“The castle of Cawdor was built in the fifteenth century and to this day remains the seat of the earl of Cawdor,” the guide intoned as Janine and several other sightseers toured the famous landmark. “In William Shakespeare’s Macbeth, the castle plays an important role. Macbeth becomes the thane of Cawdor….”

For the first few days of Janine’s visit to Scotland, she’d been content to explore on her own. The tours, however, helped fill in the bits and pieces of history she might otherwise have missed.

The castle of Cawdor was in northeastern Scotland. The next day, she planned to rent a car and take a meandering route toward Edinburgh, the political heart of Scotland. From what she’d read, Edinburgh Castle was an ancient fortress, built on a huge rock, that dominated the city’s skyline. Gramps had booked reservations for her at an inn on the outskirts of town.

The Bonnie Inn, with its red-tiled roof and black-trimmed gables, had all the charm she’d expected, and more. Janine’s room offered more character than comfort, but she felt its welcome as if she were visiting an old friend. A vase filled with fresh flowers and dainty jars of bath salts awaited her.

Eager to explore, she strolled outside to investigate the extensive garden. There was a chill in the April air and she tucked her hands in her pockets, watching with amusement as the partridges fed on the lush green lawn.

“Janine?”

At the sound of her name, she turned, and to her astonishment discovered Zach standing not more than ten feet away. “What are you doing here?” she demanded.

“Me? I was about to ask you the same question.”

“I’m on vacation. Gramps gave me the trip as a gift.”

“I’m here on business,” Zach explained, and his brow furrowed in a suspicious frown.

Janine was doing her own share of frowning. “This is all rather convenient, don’t you think?”

Zach took immediate offense. “You don’t believe I planned this, do you?”

“No,” she agreed reluctantly.

Zach continued to stand there, stiff and wary. “I had absolutely nothing to do with this,” he said.

“If you hadn’t been so rude to me the last time we met,” she felt obliged to inform him, with a righteous tilt to her chin, “you’d have known well in advance that Gramps was sending me here, and we could have avoided this unpleasant shock.”

“If you hadn’t been in such an all-fired hurry to leave my office, you’d have discovered I was traveling here myself.”

“Oh, that’s perfect! Go ahead and blame me for everything,” she shrieked. “As I recall, you were furious at my being anywhere near your precious office.”

“All right, I’ll admit I might have handled the situation poorly,” Zach said, and the muscles in his jaw hardened. “But as you’ll also recall, I did apologize.”

“Sure you did,” she said, “after you’d trampled all over my ego. I’ve never felt like more of a fool in my life.”

“You?” Zach shouted. “It may surprise you to know that I don’t make a habit of hiding women in my office.”

“Do you think I enjoyed being stuffed in that…closet like a bag of dirty laundry?”

“What was I supposed to do? Hide you under my desk?”

“It might’ve been better than a pitch-black closet.”

“If you’re so keen on casting blame, let me remind you I wasn’t the one who left my purse in full view of your grandfather,” Zach said. “I did everything but perform card tricks to draw his attention away from it.”

“You make it sound like I’m at fault,” Janine snapped.

“I’m not the one who popped in unexpectedly. If you had a job like everyone else—”

“If I had a job,” she broke in, outraged. “You mean all the volunteer work I do doesn’t count? Apparently the thirty hours a week I put in mean nothing. Sure, I’ve got a degree. Sure, I could probably have my pick of a dozen different jobs, but why take employment away from someone who really needs it when so many worthwhile organizations are hurting for volunteers?” She was breathless by the time she finished, and so angry she could feel the heat radiating from her face.

She refused to tolerate Zach’s offensive insinuations any longer. From the moment they’d met, Zach had clearly viewed her as spoiled and frivolous, without a brain in her head. And it seemed that nothing had altered his opinion.

“Listen, I didn’t mean—”

“It’s obvious to me,” she said bluntly, “that you and I are never going to agree on anything.” She was so furious she couldn’t keep her anger in check. “The best thing for us to do is completely ignore each other. It’s obvious that you don’t want anything to do with me and, frankly, I feel the same way about you. So, good day, Mr. Thomas.” With that she walked away, her head high and her pride intact.

For the very first time with this man, she’d been able to make a grand exit. It should have felt good. But it didn’t.

An hour later, after Janine had taken the tourist bus into Edinburgh, she was still brooding over her latest encounter with Zachary Thomas. If there was any humor at all in this situation, it had to be the fact that her usually sage grandfather could possibly believe she and Zach were in any way suited.

Determined to put the man out of her mind, Janine wandered down Princes Street, which was packed with shoppers, troupes of actors giving impromptu performances and strolling musicians. Her mood couldn’t help but be influenced by the festive flavor, and she soon found herself smiling despite the unpleasant confrontation with her grandfather’s business partner.

Several of the men who passed her in the street were dressed in kilts, and Janine felt as if she’d stepped into another time, another world. The air swirled with bagpipe music. The city itself seemed gray and gloomy, a dull background for the colorful sights and sounds, the excitement of ages past.

It was as Janine walked out of a dress shop that she bumped into Zach a second time. He stopped, his eyes registering surprise and what looked to Janine like a hint of regret—as though confronting her twice in the same day was enough to try anyone’s patience.

“I know what you’re thinking,” he said, pinning her with his dark intense gaze.

“And I’m equally confident that you don’t.” She held her packages close and edged against the shop window to avoid hindering other pedestrians on the crowded sidewalk.

“I came here to do some shopping,” Zach said gruffly. “I wasn’t following you.”

“You can rest assured I wasn’t following you.”

“Fine,” he said.

“Fine,” she repeated.

But neither of them moved for several nerve-racking seconds. Janine assumed Zach was going to say something else. Perhaps she secretly hoped he would. If they couldn’t be friends, Janine would’ve preferred they remain allies. They should be uniting their forces instead of battling each other. Without a word, Zach gestured abruptly and wheeled around to join the stream of people hurrying down the sidewalk.

A half hour later, with more packages added to her collection, Janine strolled into a fabric store, wanting to purchase a sizable length of wool as a gift for Pam. She ran her fingertips along several thick bolts of material, marveling at the bold colors. The wool felt soft, but when she lifted a corner with her palm, she was surprised by how heavy it was.

“Each clan has its own tartan,” the white-haired lady in the shop explained. Janine enjoyed listening to her voice, with its enthusiastic warmth and distinct Scottish burr. “Some of the best-known tartans come in three patterns that are to be worn for different occasions—everyday, dress and battle.”

Intrigued, Janine watched as the congenial woman walked around the table to remove a blue-and-green plaid. Janine had already seen that pattern several times. The shop owner said that tourists were often interested in this particular tartan, called Black Watch, because it was assigned to no particular clan. In choosing Black Watch, they weren’t aligning themselves with any one clan, but showing total impartiality.

Pleased, Janine purchased several yards of the fabric.

Walking down the narrow street, she was shuffling her packages in her arms when she caught sight of Zach watching a troupe of musicians. She started to move away, then for no reason she could name, paused to study him. Her impression of him really hadn’t changed since that first afternoon. She still thought Zach Thomas opinionated, unreasonable and…fine, she was willing to admit it, attractive. Very attractive, in a sort of rough-hewn way. He lacked the polish, the superficial sophistication of a man like Brian, but he had a vigor that seemed thoroughly masculine. He also had the uncanny ability to set her teeth on edge with a single look. No other man could irritate her so quickly.

The musicians began a lively song and Zach laughed unselfconsciously. His rich husky tenor was smooth and relaxed as it drifted across the street toward her. Janine knew she should’ve left then, but she couldn’t. Despite everything, she was intrigued.

Zach must have felt her scrutiny because he suddenly turned and their eyes locked before Janine could look away. The color rose to her cheeks and for a long moment, neither moved. Neither smiled.

It was in Janine’s mind to cross the street, swallow her pride and put an end to this pointless antagonism. During the past several weeks her pride had become familiar fare; serving it up once more shouldn’t be all that difficult.

She was entertaining that thought when a bus drove past her belching a thick cloud of black smoke, momentarily blocking her view of Zach. When the bus had passed, Janine noticed that he’d returned his attention to the musicians.

Disheartened, she headed in the opposite direction. She hadn’t gone more than a block when she heard him call her name.

She stopped and waited for him to join her. With an inquiring lift of one eyebrow, he reached for some of her packages. She nodded, repressing a shiver of excitement as his hand brushed hers. Shifting his burden, he slowed his steps to match Janine’s. Then he spoke. “We need to talk.”

“I don’t see how we can. Every time you open your mouth you say something insulting and offensive.”

Only a few minutes earlier, Janine had been hoping to put an end to this foolish antagonism, yet here she was provoking an argument, acting just as unreasonable as she accused him of being. She stopped midstep, disgusted with herself. “I shouldn’t have said that. I don’t know what it is about us, but we seem to have a hard time being civil to each other.”

“It might be the shock of finding each other here.”

“Which brings up another subject,” Janine added fervently. “If Gramps was going to arrange for us to meet, why send us halfway around the world to do it?”

“I used to think I knew your grandfather,” Zach murmured. “But lately, I’m beginning to wonder. I haven’t got a clue why he chose Scotland.”

“He came to me with the tickets, reminding me it’d been almost a year since I’d traveled anywhere,” Janine said. “He told me it was high time I took a vacation, that I needed to get away for a while. And I bought it hook, line and sinker.”

“You?” Zach cried, shaking his head, clearly troubled. “Your grandfather sent me here on a wild-goose chase. Yes, there were contacts to make, but this was a trip any of our junior executives could’ve handled. It wasn’t until I arrived at the inn and found you booked there that I realized what he was up to.”

“If we hadn’t been so distracted trying to figure out who was to blame for that fiasco at your office, we might’ve been able to prevent this. At least, we’d have guessed what Gramps was doing.”

“Exactly,” Zach said. “Forewarned is forearmed. Obviously, we have to put aside our differences and stay in communication. That’s the key. Communication.”