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Mal wished her cup wasn’t empty, even a drop would help the sudden dryness in her mouth, but only white china stared back at her. She folded her hands and hoped they weren’t visibly shaking. And if they were, her knee provided a perfectly good point for grasping.
“I do have to tell you that if I feel you’re not ready or that you haven’t answered the questions honestly, we won’t move forward in the process.”
“Pardon?” Mal felt another jolt, though her healthy grasp on her knee helped to minimize it.
Angela nodded. She didn’t appear upset, but there was a serious look in her eye. “It’s unfair to anyone you might be matched with. We pride ourselves on only matching those people we think have a viable chance of success.”
“I’m ready to be matched.” Hadn’t she gone through the prescreening conversation on the phone? Worn an appropriate outfit? Arrived on time and with answers? Paid the expensive fee?
“Part of my role is deciding that. We find that often the reason people have been unable to find love is because they’re not ready.” Angela paused. “So I’ll ask you one more time, have you ever been in love?”
Mal opened her mouth to repeat her fib and stopped. Why did she feel the need to lie? Angela didn’t know her, didn’t know her family. And they all knew the truth anyway. So who was Mal hiding from except herself?
“Maybe we should reschedule, Mal—”
“Once.” Her throat felt tight even before she said anything. Where was the cute, hipster receptionist with access to the espresso machine when she needed him? “I’ve been in love exactly one time.”
Instead of picking up her pen and notebook, Angela nodded. Mal was grateful for her discretion. This would be a hard enough story to tell out loud. She didn’t need to watch someone write it all down. Immortalize it on paper forever.
“I thought we were going to get married.” The image of the ring sitting in her jewelry box popped into her head. The ring she should have given back. The ring that still gave her a little start every morning. Mal shook off that tangent. She’d return the ring to Travis later. Soon. It was nothing she needed to share with Angela. It would only give her the wrong impression. “And then we didn’t.”
“How long ago did things end?”
Some of Mal’s tension eased at Angela’s straightforward and neutral tone. She didn’t seem to think it was such a big deal. Maybe she was right. “A little over a year.”
“And are you still in contact?”
“No.” Mal shook her head. “I have no interest in seeing or talking to him.” She didn’t. The conversation at the wedding reception had been more than enough.
Angela did pick up the notebook now. “Tell me about your closest friends.”
When Mal left the matchmaker forty minutes later, she felt both tired and exhilarated. Much the way she felt after a great Pilates session. Only less sweaty and better dressed.
Angela had stated that she thought there would be no problem in making a match and she would be in touch shortly. Mal didn’t want to get her hopes up, but they were slowly climbing toward the sky.
A date. A real live date. Even just the idea of a night out with someone other than her family was enough to perk her up. Evidence that she really had let her hurt feelings linger far too long.
But now? Now things would be different.
She pulled the collar of her coat more tightly around her neck as a swift breeze swept off the water, but even the chilly air couldn’t dampen her spirits.
* * *
AFTER SOME SCHEDULING, all done through Angela, who even set up the dinner reservation, Mal’s date was set.
Josh. Mal rolled the name around in her head as she finished getting ready, spritzing on perfume and running a brush through her hair. It was a good first name. A solid first name. The name of a man who could be relied on to come home when he said he would, return phone calls and not have another woman’s legs wrapped around his head. It was also one of the few things Mal knew about her date tonight.
VMS didn’t share full names of their clients. They didn’t share jobs, neighborhood of residence or anything else that might make it possible for someone to discover personal details, either.
Besides his name, all Mal knew about Josh was that he was six feet tall, dark haired with gray eyes, had an athletic build and would be wearing a pale green shirt. All sounded promising.
She was meeting Josh at Chambar, a Belgian restaurant located in the gentrified Gastown neighborhood and known for its mussels. The restaurant was preselected by VMS, and Mal suspected it was halfway between both of their residences or workplaces. The taxi service called just as she was finishing getting ready to let her know her car would be there in one minute. She slipped into a coat and headed down to the lobby.
VMS advised clients not to share anything too revealing with their dates, including last names and work locations. With so much personal information available to anyone who could use a computer, it was far too easy for a person to get in touch when touch wasn’t wanted.
Mal hoped it was wanted tonight. She wore a fitted knee-length dress in dark red, the color of a rich cabernet. The material was textured with small ripples inviting touch. She’d paired the dress with simple black heels and a black leather peplum jacket with suede panels on the bodice. The jacket dressed down the outfit, taking it from slightly formal to urban cool. Finished off with a gold three-tier necklace made of thick chains, she thought it displayed a note of badassery, as well. That she wasn’t the type of woman who would be easily taken advantage of. Not the type of woman who put up with bad behavior.
Plus, it looked really cool. It was an outfit that should net a second date on its own, even if she wasn’t completely charming and fun, which she would be.
Of course, there were no guarantees of a second date. No guarantees of anything. Not even the exchange of full names and phone numbers. Tomorrow, Mal would receive a phone call from Angela to discuss the date. Was she happy with the match? Was she interested in seeing Josh again? Would she like Josh to have her number? Mal hoped the answers to all questions would be yes. Or, at least, maybe.
The familiar sign of the restaurant glowed as they turned onto the street and Mal’s stomach tightened. She shoved down the worried thoughts that attempted to rise and smoothed her skirt.
She hadn’t been on a date in four years. What if it wasn’t like riding a bike? Well, she might be in trouble. But she refused to think about that or the reason for her long dry spell. She would focus on the positive, on the promise of a future. Maybe her future was waiting in the restaurant.
Her stomach knotted again, but this time with anticipation as much as nerves. She stepped out of the cab into the cool April night and prepared to meet her destiny.
At worst, she was in for an excellent bowl of mussels.
* * *
THE MUSSELS WERE excellent, as was the company.
Mal laughed as Josh finished his ridiculous story about how he’d spent his Sunday. It had started with waking up at four and going on a run to the Seawall, then whipping up a gourmet breakfast, kayaking, climbing the Grind—the long and winding trail up Grouse Mountain—paddle boarding, shopping at Granville Island Market, seeing a local band at a club, visiting a food cart, traversing the Capilano Suspension Bridge, holding a dinner party for twelve and finally finishing the crossword puzzle. In ink.
“All right, you got me. I actually believed you for a minute. Right up until the crossword puzzle.”
Josh laughed, too. He had a nice laugh, a nice smile. “Ink was taking it too far? Would you have gone for it if I’d said pencil?”
“Absolutely.” She appreciated his humor. It made her feel more relaxed and made it easier to share her own stories. “Just like I’m sure you buy that I spent Sunday riding the Sea to Sky Gondola, eating dim sum, checking out an indie flick at 5th Ave, completing a mini-tri, meeting friends for beer on a heated patio and finishing the crossword puzzle. In ink.”
Josh’s already big grin widened. “I see what you mean about the ink part. Makes the whole thing unbelievable.”
“Exactly.” Mal nodded. She was enjoying the banter. In fact, there had been quite a number of enjoyable moments this evening and they’d only just finished dinner. Mal still had half a glass of wine in front of her, Josh had three-quarters of a beer.
“So, tell me.” Josh leaned forward and reached for her hand. His fingers were warm as they curled around hers. “What did you really do on Sunday?”
Mal resisted the urge to pull her hand free. She was doing nothing wrong. Hadn’t she wanted touch? And Josh was polite and funny and very good-looking. It wasn’t inappropriate to hold hands in a public setting, and she reminded herself that it only felt odd because she was out of practice. There was only one way to fix that. She curved her fingers around his. “I went to Pilates in the morning, did a bit of work and had dinner with my family.”
“Was there beer and a heated patio?”
“No. But there was a view of my parents’ garden and wine paired with dinner.”
“Fancy. Consider me duly impressed by your knowledge of wine.” A dimple twinkled in his cheek. “I’d bow to your superior knowledge, but then I’d have to let go of your hand.”
“Right.” Which made the whole hand-holding feel horribly awkward and made Mallory self-conscious. It was all she could do not to rip her fingers free. She settled for giving him a gentle squeeze and then picked up her wineglass, so it wasn’t as though she didn’t want to touch him, she was merely thirsty. But she was careful to put her hand in her lap and out of holding range once she let go of the glass.
Still, she was having a nice time and resolved to continue doing so. Josh appeared to be everything she was looking for. He told her he was a lawyer, though she didn’t ask which firm, and that he lived downtown, though she didn’t ask which neighborhood. Mal, in turn, informed him that she had bought her own little slice of heavenly real estate last year.
“We could be neighbors and not even know it,” he said. The downtown core was so densely populated that it was possible to live next door to someone for years and never see them.
“Maybe. Do you like to practice guitar on Thursday nights?” Her neighbor did. But aside from that, Mal knew nothing about him or anyone else in her building. She seriously doubted she could pick any of them out of a lineup.
“No, that’s on Mondays.”
“Well, good. Because my neighbor is pretty bad.” Or maybe it was just that she didn’t love his music choices, which seemed to consist of him strumming the same chord over and over and over. “If it had been you, I’d have had to pretend I enjoyed it to spare your feelings.”
“So thoughtful.” His dimple winked again. “But then, you haven’t heard me play yet.”
“There is that.” She cocked her head, feeling some of her earlier fear recede. See? She could do this. She could date and flirt. Totally like riding a bike. She even left her hand on the table the next time she sipped her wine and was rewarded by Josh picking it up.
“So, I was thinking.” He leaned closer. He had very pretty eyelashes, long and dark and lush. “I’m very much enjoying this date and you.” He gave her hand a gentle tug, pulling her closer. “And I’d like to continue it. If you’re interested.”
Mal hesitated. She should be interested. Josh was a good-looking guy with a good job. He was very much her type and what she’d told Angela she was looking for. And yet...
“I’d like that very much.” Mal said the words quickly before she could change her mind. She could figure out later if it had been a good idea or not.
“So where were you thinking?” Mal asked once the bill was paid—split between them—and they were on their way toward the restaurant’s lobby.
“What about Elephants?”
Mal stiffened. Really? Of all the places in the city, he had to choose the one owned by her family? And the one that housed her office upstairs? Her eyes darted to him. Did he know? Had he somehow uncovered who she was and this was a little test to see if she’d explain?
But Josh merely looked back at her with an open smile and nothing in his eyes resembling guile. Still, she trod lightly and chose her words carefully as they entered the lobby. “Have you been there before?”
“I have.” The hostess had their coats ready and Josh helped Mal into hers. She shivered when his knuckles brushed across the back of her neck. She wasn’t sure what it was from. Fear that he was possibly toying with her? The fact that his hands were cold? Attraction?
“A lot?”
“Once or twice. It’s nice, but if you’d prefer, we can go somewhere else.”
Mal looked into his eyes again. She saw no sign that there was any hidden agenda. And really, why wouldn’t Josh suggest Elephants? It was a great lounge in a great location, perfect for extending a date, and she didn’t think that just because it was owned by her family. She made a snap decision before things got awkward and Josh started thinking she wasn’t interested.
“I think Elephantssounds great.” And Owen wasn’t working tonight, so there was no chance of him horning in and embarrassing her, accidentally or otherwise.
Maybe being on her own turf would help ease some of her unsettled feelings about reentering the dating arena. She had no reason to feel unsettled. She was single, with no lingering strings that needed to be severed, the ring in her jewelry box notwithstanding. Josh had a lot going for him. She wanted to be attracted to him. She should be attracted to him.
They shared a cab as it only seemed sensible since they were heading to the same place, but Mal wondered what Angela would say. She decided she wouldn’t tell her—what Angela didn’t know wouldn’t hurt her.
Conversation flowed easily during the brief ten-minute trip across the downtown core. Josh had one brother and was in a men’s hockey league.
Mal admitted to having two older brothers, though she definitely thought herself the wisest of them all, and a newly discovered affinity for Pilates. “I think part of it is just the opportunity to spend time with friends.”
Josh nodded. “Friends that Pilates together and all that.”
When the cab pulled up outside of Elephants, Josh paid the fare and helped her out. He didn’t let go of her hand after he closed the cab’s door. Didn’t let go when he pulled open the heavy wooden door of Elephants, either.
Mal had a quick internal discussion with herself over whether to break the contact or not before deciding to roll with it. But, once again, she was glad Owen wasn’t in—because holding hands with a stranger was the kind of thing he’d bring up for years after the fact. In truth, it was nice to have the human contact. So what if Josh’s touch didn’t give her butterflies? That part of herself had been shut down for so long that she probably just couldn’t feel the butterflies fluttering around. They might very well be flapping away in there and she just didn’t know it.
She wrapped her fingers more tightly around his, which earned her a smile as they stepped into the wine lounge. And though it was a Monday, the tables at Elephants were already full. Even the actual bar itself had a full house of people bellied up to it.
“Busy place.”
Mal tried not to shy away at the fact that his mouth, which was bent close to be heard over the noise, had practically brushed her earlobe. “Do you see any seats?”
She was tall, made more so by her stiletto heels, but Josh, at just a shade over six feet—according to Angela—was taller. “Nothing except a man waving his arm like he’s trying to get your attention.”
Mal’s first thought was that it was Owen. That her dear brother, after taking two weeks off for his honeymoon, was making up for the time away by working on his one off night. But when she followed Josh’s pointing finger it was much, much worse.
Travis. He was sitting in a large booth with both of her brothers, Donovan and Owen, and their two wives, Grace and Julia. All were staring at her with a range of expressions from surprised to sad. As though what she did on her own time was anyone’s business but her own.
Mal put on a smile she didn’t feel, reminded herself that she wasn’t doing anything secretive or illicit and turned to Josh. “I realize it’s a bit rushed, but how would you like to meet my family?”
She could only hope that her parents weren’t going to come sauntering by next.
CHAPTER FIVE (#ulink_f481ee38-2284-5b1c-99ad-bdc62277e761)
TRAVIS WATCHED MAL move toward him, hips swaying, hair bouncing, hand held by another man. He fisted his own hands beneath the table and hoped what he was feeling wasn’t written all over his face. But it probably was.
She wasn’t supposed to be dating other men. She was supposed to be with him.
He’d called her three times since the wedding. Every Tuesday to ask if they could talk. Every time she’d claimed work or other activities filled her schedule so completely that she didn’t have time. He’d suspected she hadn’t been entirely truthful with him and now he had proof.
Mal wasn’t too busy to go out with some preppy guy in a suit—she was just too busy to go out with him. And even though he’d already figured it out a few weeks ago, the confirmation still stung. As if he wasn’t good enough for her, wasn’t worthy of forgiveness.
Which felt really crappy. Even if he might have deserved it.
“Who is she with?” Owen didn’t bother to keep his voice down.
“I don’t know. She’s still not talking to me.” It didn’t feel good to say it, but Travis saw no point in lying as they’d all know the truth as soon as Mal reached their table.
Donovan and Julia both agreed they were equally uninformed on the subject of the stranger holding Mal’s hand, but Grace was noticeably silent.
Travis looked at her. She gave a jolt when she caught his eye and then hurriedly looked away. Busted.
“Grace.” Travis had only known his best friend’s wife a short time, but he already liked her and felt at ease around her. “Anything you’d like to add to the conversation?”
“Not particularly.” She ran a finger around the stem of her wineglass without looking up.
Owen jumped in at that comment. “No secrets. It’s my number one rule for a happy marriage.”
Grace shot him a private look. “Really? That’s your number one rule.”
“That and...” He leaned over and whispered something in Grace’s ear that left her half blushing and half laughing.
“Hey.” Bad enough that Travis was about to make polite conversation with the man touching Mal. He didn’t need his painfully single status pointed out, too. “Are you going to tell us who he is or not?”
“Well...” Grace’s blush deepened. “I might have sent her to my matchmaker.”
