The question took Rich by surprise. “Well, because…because it would be like dating one of my sisters.”
Bill released an impatient sigh. “Why haven’t you said anything about her before?”
“She was involved with someone else.”
Bill shook his head emphatically. “Forget it. You’re a good friend and all that, but I’ve been set up too many times in the past few years. Frankly, your friend’s everything I want to avoid in a woman. She’s over thirty and never been married. It doesn’t help that she’s just out of a relationship, either. I’m sorry, Rich, I really am, but I’m not interested.”
Rich found Bill’s attitude downright insulting. Before he could stop himself, before he could analyze his actions, he reached for his wallet.
“What are you doing?” Bill wanted to know when Rich pulled out two tickets.
“These are for the Seahawks play-off game against Green Bay. The scalpers are getting three hundred bucks each for these. If you agree to call Jamie for a date, they’re yours.” His older brother would have his hide for this, but Rich would deal with Jason later.
Bill’s eyes rounded incredulously. “You mean you’re willing to give me two tickets to the Seahawks play-off game if I go out with your friend?”
“Yup.”
Even then Bill hesitated. “One date?”
“One date.” But once his fellow engineer got to know Jamie, he’d realize how special she was. In a few weeks, Bill would be looking for ways to repay him for this. Rich would keep that thought in mind when he told Jason he’d given away their play-off tickets.
“Someplace nice, too. No pizza in a bowling alley, understand?”
Bill’s hand closed over the tickets. “Dinner at the Space Needle followed by an evening at the ballet.”
“Good. Just don’t ever let Jamie know about this.”
Bill laughed. “Do I look that stupid?”
Rich didn’t reply, but in his opinion, any man who’d turn down the opportunity to meet Jamie Warren wasn’t exactly a candidate for Mensa.
“Here’s her phone number,” he said, writing it on a slip of paper. “I’ll give her a call, clear the way, but the rest is up to you.”
“No problem,” Bill said, pocketing the tickets.
Rich felt downright noble as he returned to his own office. Jamie was one hell of a woman and it was about time someone figured that out. Bill Hastings wasn’t nearly good enough for her, but he was an amiable guy. Without too much trouble Rich could picture Bill and Jamie a few years down the road, raising two or three kids.
He felt good about that, better than he’d felt about anything in quite a while.
* * *
That evening, Rich went to Jason’s apartment on his way home and was relieved to find his brother was out. That meant he could delay telling him what had become of the play-off tickets. It was definitely something he had to do in person, he told himself.
After killing an hour or two at his own apartment, Rich decided to drive over to Jamie’s. He rang her bell and waited. It hadn’t occurred to him that she might not be home. He was ready to turn away when he heard activity on the other side.
“Who is it?” she called.
“The big bad wolf.”
The sound of her laugh was followed by the click of the lock. She opened the door and Rich saw that he must have gotten her out of the tub. She’d hastily donned a white terrycloth robe that clung to her damp skin.
“Rich,” she said, surprise elevating her voice, “what are you doing here?” As she spoke, she finished knotting the belt around her waist.
The robe fell open below that, revealing a glimpse of thigh. Rich was having trouble taking his eyes off it and didn’t answer right away. His gaze followed a natural progression downward, and he was momentarily astounded to see what long shapely legs she had. Funny, he’d never noticed them before. He grinned, thinking Bill was in for a very pleasant shock.
“Go ahead and finish your bath,” he said casually, walking into her kitchen. “I’ll make myself at home while I wait.”
“I’m almost done.”
“Take your time,” he called out. He stuck his head inside the refrigerator and helped himself to an apple. He’d just taken his last bite when Jamie returned. As best he could tell, she’d run a brush through her hair and put on slippers. But that was it. The robe rode over her slender hips like a second skin.
“Do you have any plans tonight?” Generally he went out on Fridays, but there wasn’t anything he particularly felt like doing that evening.
“Got anything in mind?”
“A movie. I’ll even let you choose.”
“I suppose you’re going to make me pay my own way?”
“I might.” He grinned, pleased with himself for coming up with the idea. The suggestion that they attend a movie had been as much of a surprise to him as it obviously was to Jamie. As much of a surprise as offering Bill the play-off tickets…
Actually, it was a damn good idea. This way he could lead naturally, casually, into the subject of Bill. The last thing he wanted Jamie to think was that he’d arranged anything.
The movie was indeed a stroke of genius, Rich decided as they drove to the theater. He’d always enjoyed Jamie’s company and never more so than now. An evening with her was an escape from the games and pretenses involved in taking out someone new—and it was exactly what he needed to settle his nerves. He didn’t like to say much, particularly to his family, but Pamela had hurt him badly. He no longer trusted his judgment when it came to women. Oh, he dated. Often. But he was tired of all the games. Pamela hadn’t just broken his heart; the damage she’d inflicted went deeper than that. She’d caused him to doubt himself.
Rich pulled into a movie complex in the Seattle suburbs, close to Jamie’s condominium. He bought their tickets, but she insisted on buying the popcorn and the chocolate-covered raisins.
He was just thinking how nice it was to be with a woman who wasn’t constantly worrying about her weight when she leaned over and whispered, “You ate more than your share of the raisins.”
“Do you want me to buy more?”
“No. Just remember you owe me.”
It took him several minutes to realize he had no reason to be grinning the way he was, especially since the film was actually quite serious.
“We don’t do this often enough,” Rich said as they left the cinema two hours later. He meant it, too. He’d been at loose ends for a couple of months but hadn’t thought about contacting Jamie. Now he wondered why.
“No, we don’t,” she agreed, buttoning her coat. She wore jeans and a pale pink sweater. The color looked good on her. He was about to say as much when he remembered the reason for his impromptu visit.
“How about a cup of coffee?” he suggested, linking his arm with hers. There was a coffee shop in the same complex as the theater, and he steered them in that direction.
He waited until they were seated and looking over their menus before he brought up the subject of Bill. “There’s someone at work I’d like you to meet.”
Jamie didn’t raise her eyes from the menu. “Who?”
“Bill Hastings. You’ll like him.”
“Is he tall, dark and handsome?”
“Yes. No and no.”
“Sounds like my kind of man,” she joked, setting aside the menu. The waitress filled their mugs with coffee and Jamie stirred in a liberal measure of cream. “From everything I’ve heard, it’s best to avoid the handsome ones.”
“Oh?” He could guess what was coming. He wasn’t conceited, but Rich knew he was easy on the eyes—a fact that hadn’t gone unnoticed from the time he was in his early teens. Rich had never lacked for female attention, some he’d sought and some he hadn’t.
“Yes,” she said. “The handsome ones can’t be trusted.”
“Who says?” Rich demanded, feigning outrage.
“Everyone,” Jamie returned without a pause. “They’re too impressed with themselves.
Or so I hear.”
Rich chuckled and, motioning for the waitress, ordered a chef’s salad. He felt like having a decent meal for the first time in weeks. He didn’t even complain when Jamie stole his olives, claiming it was the least he could do for hogging the chocolate-covered raisins.
* * *
Tuesday morning, Bill marched into Rich’s office, pulled out a chair and plunked himself down. His face was creased with a heavy frown. “It didn’t work.”
Rich tried to figure out which project Bill was referring to and came up blank. They were both part of an engineering team working on a Boeing defense contract. Rich had volunteered for this job, knowing it would entail plenty of overtime hours. The challenge was something he needed at this point in his career—and his life.
“What do you mean?” he asked Bill.
“She turned me down flat.”
Bill couldn’t possibly be talking about Jamie. He’d paved the way for him! He’d managed to casually drop his name into the conversation at least three times. Enough to pique her curiosity, but not so often that she’d suspect he was setting them up.
“She turned you down?” Rich echoed, still unable to believe it. “Obviously you didn’t try all that hard.”
“If I’d tried any harder, I would’ve been arrested,” Bill muttered.
“What the hell did you say to her?”
“Nothing. I called her Saturday afternoon, just like you suggested. I mentioned your name right off and told her we worked together and have for several years. I wanted her to feel comfortable talking to me.” He hesitated as though he was still trying to understand what had gone wrong.
“Then what happened?” Rich could feel himself losing patience. He’d risked his brother’s wrath by giving up those tickets and he wasn’t about to let Bill off so easily.
“That’s just it. Nothing happened. We must’ve talked for ten or fifteen minutes and you’re right—she sounds nice. The more we talked, the more I realized I wouldn’t mind getting to know her. She said you two were on the yearbook staff together…. She even told me a few insider secrets about your glorious football days.”
“What the hell were you doing talking about me?” Rich demanded.
“I was establishing common ground.”
Rich brought one hand to his mouth in an effort to hide his irritation. “Go on.”
“There’s not much more to tell. After several minutes of chitchat, I asked her out to dinner. Honest, Rich, I was beginning to look forward to meeting her. I couldn’t have been more shocked when she turned me down.”
“What did she say?”
“Not much,” Bill admitted, his frown deepening. “Just that she’d given up dating and although she was sure I was a perfectly fine guy, she wasn’t interested.”
“You didn’t take that sitting down, did you?”
“Hell, no. I sent her a dozen roses Monday morning, hoping that would convince her. Red roses, expensive ones. I didn’t get them in any grocery store, either. These were flower shop roses, top quality.”
“And?”
“That didn’t do it, either. She phoned and thanked me, but said she still wasn’t interested. Said she felt bad that I’d gone to the expense of sending her flowers, though.”
Rich muttered under his breath. Bill had just encountered that stubborn pride of hers. Rich knew from experience that once she’d made up her mind, nothing was going to change it. Not flowers, not arguments, nothing.
Bill sighed unhappily. “You aren’t going to make me return the Seahawks tickets, are you?” he asked.
Two
Jamie was sitting at her kitchen table, reading the application from the adoption agency, when the doorbell rang. A long blast was immediately followed by three short, impatient ones. By the time she’d stood and walked to the door, whoever was on the other side was knocking loudly.
She checked the peephole. Rich. And from the look of him, he was furious. Unbolting the lock, she opened the door.
Without a word, he marched into the center of her living room, hands deep in the pockets of his full-length winter coat. Damn, but the man was attractive, Jamie noted, not for the first time. Much too handsome for his own good. His blue eyes were flashing, which only added to his appeal—even if they were flashing with annoyance, not laughter or warmth.
“You turned down Bill Hastings’s dinner invitation and I want to know why,” he said without preamble.
Jamie sighed. She should’ve realized Rich would be upset about that. He’d obviously gone to a lot of trouble to arrange the date and even more trying to conceal it from her. The seemingly impromptu visit Friday night, the movie and coffee afterward, had all led up to his singing Bill Hastings’s praises. He’d listed Bill’s apparently limitless virtues at length and actually seemed to think he was being subtle about setting her up.
To be fair, she’d enjoyed talking to Bill. He’d seemed cordial enough, and he had sent her the roses, which really were lovely. But he hadn’t said or done anything to change her mind. It did seem rather harsh to turn him down sight unseen, but she was saving them both future heartbreak and disappointment. Bill accepted her decision with good grace, but that clearly wasn’t the case with Rich.
“Well?” Rich demanded. He walked around her couch, as though standing still was impossible, but if he didn’t stop circling it soon, he was going to make her dizzy.
“He sounds very nice.”
“The guy’s perfect for you,” Rich argued, gesturing toward her. “I match the two of you up and then you turn him down. I can’t believe you refused to even meet him!”
“I’m sorry, but I’m not interested.”
“One date,” he cried, waving his index finger at her. “What possible harm could there be in one lousy dinner date?”
“None, I’m sure,” she said calmly. “Listen, do you intend to stay long enough to take off your coat, or are you just dropping in to argue with me on your way to someplace else?”
“Are you going to let Tony do this to you?” he challenged, disregarding her question. He plowed his fingers through his hair, something he’d done often today if the grooves along the side of his head were any indication.
“Tony has very little to do with this.” Rather than discuss the man who’d wounded her so deeply, Jamie moved into the kitchen and poured them glasses of iced tea, which gave her a few minutes to compose her thoughts.
“Obviously Tony has everything to do with this, otherwise you wouldn’t have told Bill you’d given up dating. Which, by the way, is the most ridiculous thing I’ve ever heard.” He shrugged off his coat and draped it over the back of a kitchen chair.
“Really?” Leaning against the kitchen counter, she added sugar and ice to her glass, stirred, then sipped from her tea. Rich ignored the glass she’d poured him.
“It’s not true, is it?”
He glared at Jamie as though he expected her to deny everything. But she couldn’t see any reason to lie. “As a matter of fact it is.”
Rich’s jaw sagged open. “Why?”
“You really need to ask?” Jamie said with a light laugh.
“How can you deny that Tony’s responsible for this?”
She lifted her shoulders in a shrug. “In part he is, but this decision isn’t solely due to what happened with him. It’s just one more disappointment. If anything, I’m grateful I found out what kind of man Tony is before we were married.”
The timer on her oven dinged. Setting aside her tea, Jamie reached for a pot holder and took out a bubbling chicken potpie. The recipe was one she’d come across in a women’s magazine and it had looked delicious. True, the meal was large enough to feed a family of four, but she intended to freeze half of it.
“Have you had dinner? Would you like to join me?” She extended the invitation casually as she set the steaming pie on top of the stove to cool.
“No,” Rich answered starkly. “I’m not hungry.”
“It seems to me you’ve lost weight. Have you?” br />
“I’m not here to discuss my weight,” he barked, “which hasn’t changed since high school, I might add.”
His attitude was slightly defensive, but Jamie decided to ignore it. He had lost weight; she’d noticed it soon after he’d broken off the relationship with Pamela. Jamie had never met the other woman and it was all she could do to think civilly of her. If anyone was ever a fool, it was Rich’s former girlfriend.
“You didn’t answer my question,” Rich said. His voice had lowered and he seemed less persistent now. Jamie suspected he’d spent the day seething over her decision not to date his friend.
“Which question didn’t I answer?” she asked, putting the pot holder back in the top drawer.
“What made you decide to give up dating?”
“Oh.” She pulled out a chair and sat down. Rich did, too. “Well, it wasn’t something I did lightly, trust me. It was a gradual decision made over the past few months. I honestly feel it’s the right one for me. I feel better than I have in years.” She tried to reassure him with a warm smile. He was frowning at her as though he wanted to argue. Rich had always been passionate when it came to people he cared about. “I’m nearly thirty-two years old,” she added.
“So?”
“So,” she said with a laugh, “there aren’t many eligible men left for me.”
“What about Bill Hastings? He’s eligible.”
“Divorced, right?”
“Right. But what’s that got to do with anything?”
He wasn’t going to like her answer, but Jamie wouldn’t be less than honest. “I’ve dated plenty of divorced men over the years. My experience may not be like anyone else’s, but I’ve discovered that if their wives left them, there’s generally a damn good reason. And if there isn’t, they’re so traumatized by the divorce they’ve become emotional cripples.”
“That’s ridiculous! And furthermore, it’s not fair.”
“I’m sure there are exceptions. I just haven’t found any.”
“In other words, you wouldn’t date Bill because he’s divorced.”