Cassie closed her eyes, struggling to hold on to her poise. After a moment, she opened them and met his look head-on. “I’m not meeting John or any other man you deem the right mate for me. Or my ‘suitable’ mate or whatever word you want to use. I’ve already found him and it’s you.”
Simon didn’t acknowledge that comment in any way.
“Have I misread your feelings, Simon?” she asked softly.
He refused to answer.
Reluctantly she stood; she’d gone past her allotted ten minutes. “I won’t embarrass you further—or myself for that matter. But before I go, I have one simple request.”
“Fine,” he said tersely.
“Look me in the eyes and tell me you don’t love me. Do that and I’ll leave and never trouble you again.”
“I’m not playing word games with you, Cassie.”
“This isn’t a game. It’s my life, my future—our future.”
He squinted up at the ceiling. “Why do women have such a flair for the dramatic? I suppose you’re going to spend the rest of your life pining away for me.”
“No, I won’t,” she told him. “I love you and it’s up to you to accept or reject that love. It’ll hurt me, but I know I’ll get over you in time. In every likelihood I’ll marry someone else one day and perhaps even have children. Rest assured that if you reject me, I won’t leap off a bridge.”
“That’s a relief.”
She moved away from the chair, her heart pounding so hard she was astonished it didn’t echo through the room. She gave him ample opportunity to stop her.
He didn’t.
With her hand on the door, she turned back to look at Simon one last time. He sat at his desk, reading. She wasn’t fooled. He might not admit it, but he loved her.
“Merry Christmas, Simon.”
He glanced up and his eyes flared as though he was surprised to see her still in the room. “Oh. Merry Christmas.”
“Goodbye.”
She didn’t wait for a response. Head held high, she marched out the door. Once on the other side, she closed her eyes, almost collapsing to the floor as a wave of deep loss hit her.
Ms. Snelling’s chair scraped as she stood. “Oh, dear. Are you all right, Ms. Beaumont? You look like you’re about to faint.”
“I—I’m okay,” she stammered. “Thank you…?.” she added politely.
It was exactly as Cassie had feared. Simon Dodson, professional matchmaker, was an expert at finding love for everyone except himself.
Chapter 16
“Hold the elevator!” Cassie shouted, rushing across the condo foyer on Wednesday afternoon. When she saw that the lone occupant was Mr. Oliver, she automatically slowed her steps. No need to rush; he’d take sadistic delight in letting the doors shut in her face. To her amazement, he thrust out his arm and stopped them from closing.
Cassie hardly knew what to think. “Thank you,” she managed as she hurried into the elevator, loaded down with her mail, the newspaper, her purse and a couple of last-minute Christmas purchases.
The newspaper.
She hadn’t even realized Mrs. Mullinex hadn’t “borrowed” it since their dinner together. That was progress.
“My pleasure,” Mr. Oliver said as the elevator doors glided shut. “Can’t thank you enough for the great dinner.”
It seemed wrong to confess that if it hadn’t been for Simon she would never have thought to invite Mr. Oliver.
Try as she might, she couldn’t get Simon out of her mind. She’d given it her best shot, told him how she felt and done what she could to convince him that he shared her feelings. But she hadn’t expected the strength of his conviction in denying his love for her. Nor could she understand why he fought it so hard.
What bothered her most was his inability to admit to her face that he didn’t love her. If he had, she might have believed him. However, for reasons she’d likely never know, he refused to accept her love.
“Nice young man…”
“I’m sorry,” Cassie said. “I didn’t catch what you said?”
“That Simon of yours. He’s a fine young man. You’ve chosen well.”
“I…thank you,” she whispered. No need to explain that he wasn’t “hers,” or that she wouldn’t be seeing him again. Cassie had been sincere when she’d told him she wouldn’t pine away for the rest of her life. He’d made his decision and she’d made hers.
The elevator stopped, and Mr. Oliver held the door for her to exit first. When they stepped into the hallway, Mrs. Mullinex opened her condo door and, seeing the two of them, waved cheerfully. Cassie noticed that the other woman’s eyes immediately went to Harry Oliver.
“Oh, what perfect timing,” Phyllis said. Her hair was brushed into soft waves and she looked lovely.
“Good afternoon, Harry,” she purred.
“Hello, Phyllis.”
Cassie hid a satisfied grin. Apparently there’d been a breakthrough in that relationship. Wonderful!
“I was hoping to see you,” she said, smiling shyly at Harry. “I thought I’d invite my dearest friends over for eggnog on Christmas Eve. I do hope you can join me.” As if she realized she’d directed the invitation solely to Mr. Oliver, she turned to Cassie. “I’d like it if you could come, too.”
“Why…thank you, I’d be honored.” Cassie’s brother and Angie had invited her to spend Christmas Day with Angie’s family. They’d been generous to include her, and Cassie had gratefully accepted.
“I wonder…” Phyllis began. “If you’d like to invite your young man, please do. That Simon is quite the charmer.”
She nodded. “I’ll mention it if I talk to him between now and Christmas Eve.” That was highly improbable, but again she didn’t feel it was necessary to go into details.
“Why wouldn’t you be talking to him?” Mrs. Mullinex pressed. “’Tis the season and he’s your sweetheart.”
Cassie glanced away. “Actually, he isn’t.”
“You don’t mean that!”
“They might’ve had a spat,” Harry suggested.
“In that case, dear, I urge you to settle it before Christmas.” She looked at Harry and blushed. “Don’t let too much time elapse before you set things right.”
Harry stepped closer to Phyllis. “I couldn’t agree with you more.”
Rather than tell them there was nothing to settle, Cassie just thanked them for their advice.
They made an arrangement to meet, and Cassie let herself into her condo. The festive cheer of the season greeted her, and for a moment all she could do was stand and stare at her Christmas tree and the other decorations, at the Christmas cards lined up on her mantel and the pile of wrapped gifts. She struggled to ignore her heavy heart.
As she tossed the mail on the kitchen counter, Simon’s bold handwriting, slanted across a business-size envelope, instantly caught her attention. She grabbed it with both hands. Two or three minutes must have passed before she mustered the courage to tear it open.
With her pulse hammering in her ears, she pulled out a refund check for the total amount of his fee. The check was wrapped in a single sheet of white paper. When she unfolded the sheet, she found it blank.
He’d made the check out to her and in the memo line, he’d written one word: refund. She had always assumed he’d keep the money. Perhaps this was the only way he had of relieving his conscience. The only way of saying he had regrets, too. Not knowing just what she’d do with it, Cassie propped the check against the base of a blooming poinsettia—the very one he’d given her. She’d need to think about her response.
She could refuse to cash it out of pure stubbornness. That seemed foolish. When she’d paid Simon, she’d explained that the funds had come from a special savings account, which she’d set up to pay for her wedding. Perhaps he was saying he wanted her to have that wedding.
No, she mused, shaking her head. She couldn’t second-guess him, couldn’t drive herself insane trying to analyze his motives.
The phone rang and
, still absorbed in her thoughts, Cassie picked it up. “Hello,” she murmured.
“Hello.” The male voice was unfamiliar. “My name is John Fitzsimmons and I was given your number by a…mutual friend.”
“What can I do for you, John?” she asked, suspicion springing to life.
“Well…I was hoping we could meet for coffee.” He sounded nervous.
“What friend?”
“Ah…”
“Is it Simon?” she asked. It hadn’t taken her long to catch on. The matchmaker in him was incapable of letting this go. He’d found the man he believed to be her ideal match. Obviously, Simon was hoping to assuage his guilt by making sure she had the opportunity to meet John—an opportunity she’d already declined.
“Simon suggested it might be better if I implied it was someone else, but I’m not much good at prevarication.”
“I’m not, either.”
John chuckled. “He said you backed out at the last minute.”
“I did,” she confirmed.
“I know it’s none of my business, but would you mind telling me why?”
Cassie bit her lip and debated how wise it would be to reveal the truth, then decided she owed him that. “I apologize because I realize I let you down, but…unfortunately I fell in love with someone else.”
“Oh.” She heard a world of disappointment in that one word. He didn’t say anything for a moment. “Did you tell Simon this?”
“Yes, I was in his office on Monday.” Could that have been just forty-eight hours ago? It seemed far longer; it seemed like a lifetime.
John hesitated again. “Then I don’t understand why Simon was so insistent that I call you.”
Cassie, however, was completely aware of his motivation. “I’m afraid…well, the man I fell in love with is Simon.”
“Oh.” There was a wealth of meaning in his short response. “I guess it would be safe to say he doesn’t return your feelings?”
Cassie believed he did. “Apparently not,” she said softly, hoping the pain she felt wasn’t obvious.
“I guess that explains why he urged me to contact you.”
She disagreed, but didn’t voice her opinion.
“I realize you…like Simon, but seeing that he doesn’t feel the same way, it might help if we met. Simon spoke highly of you on several occasions and I thought the two of us might have a lot in common.”
“What did he say about me?” she asked.
“Well…” He drew out the word. “He said that you’re thoughtful and caring of others.”
Despite herself, Cassie smiled. Simon had chosen to forget her negative attitude toward her neighbors and how she’d done everything she could to get out of hosting the pre-Christmas dinner party.
“He said you’re wonderful with children.”
“He did?” She closed her eyes and remembered the sad little girl who’d come to visit Santa. All that child wanted for Christmas was for her father to come home. Even the hardest heart would’ve been affected by such a request.
“He also said how generous you are to others.”
Cassie wasn’t sure that was true.
“And he told me you’re one of the most beautiful clients he’s ever had the pleasure of working with. He said your beauty is special because it’s internal as well as external.”
“That was kind of him.” Simon would cringe if he heard her say that. He didn’t receive compliments gladly.
“Actually, Simon couldn’t say enough good things about you. He urged me to ask you out and not to take no for an answer. You will meet me, won’t you?”
She probably should but couldn’t dredge up any enthusiasm for even a casual meeting. She needed time to deal with her complicated feelings for Simon. Her love was as strong now as when she’d stepped into his office two days earlier, and yet it was useless to believe he’d change his mind.
“I don’t know,” she said honestly.
“What would it hurt?” John asked. “All I’m suggesting is that the two of us have coffee together.”
He had a point, but she hesitated. “It’s, uh, nice that you’d still like to meet, especially since you know how I feel about Simon.”
“I do. From everything Simon had to say, it sounds as if we’re a perfect match. Or—” and she could hear the smile in his voice “—the most suitable one.”
That might’ve been true a few weeks ago, but it wasn’t anymore. She loved Simon.
“I think perhaps we should drop it for now,” she said.
To her surprise, John laughed. “Simon told me you’d say that, but he also said I should be persistent.”
Cassie straightened and a chill went down her spine. “Did he?”
“Yes. In fact, he said I shouldn’t listen to any arguments. He went so far as to say he’s introduced dozens of couples over the past few years and in all that time he’s never met two people who were a better fit for each other than you and me.”
Cassie had to restrain a laugh. Simon was doing his utmost to push her into the arms of another man, and his determination only served to confirm that she’d been right all along.
But telling John this would be touchy. “Why do you suppose he praised me so much?” she asked him.
“Well…”
“I suppose you’ve noticed that Simon isn’t really one for flattery.”
“Yeah.”
“When I first met him, I wasn’t sure what to think.”
“Me neither,” he said.
“He seemed way too dictatorial.”
“I hear a lot of people have the same feeling. The friend who told me about Simon and his matchmaking business said I shouldn’t take offense at his gruff manner.”
“Did his attitude change?” she asked. “Did he start to react to you in a different way?”
“Not really. Why?”
“He did with me.”
“Oh. That’s the reason you asked why he had so many wonderful things to say about you, isn’t it?”
“Yes.”
“So you think he’s in love with you, too?”
“I do.”
John sighed. “Seems funny, doesn’t it, that a matchmaker would have such a hard time admitting he’s in love.”
Cassie wasn’t exactly laughing. “In any other circumstances, you and I would probably have gotten along famously—and maybe even decided to marry.”
“Maybe,” he concurred. “Who’s to know.”
“Thank you for calling, John. I want nothing but the very best for you.”
“Thanks.” He paused and she could hear Elvis Presley’s “Blue Christmas” in the background. “I guess this means you’re definitely not going out with me.”
“That’s true.”
“Okay.”
“Bye.” She started to hang up when John stopped her.
“Yes?” she said.
“Cassie, I was wondering if you’d take my phone number—in case you have a change of heart.”
“It’s in my phone, John. I have it.”
“You won’t lose it, will you?”
“No, I won’t lose it,” she promised. “Merry Christmas, now.”
Late the following day, Christmas Eve, Cassie was grateful for Mrs. Mullinex’s invitation. She hated the idea of spending the evening alone.
Although she wasn’t Catholic, she thought she might attend midnight mass at the cathedral after that. The beauty of the service and the music would lift her heart and infuse her with holiday spirit.
The small get-together at Mrs. Mullinex’s was congenial, with Harry and Phyllis exchanging fond smiles over their fruitcake and eggnog. Love seemed to be blossoming all around her. First Shawn and Angie, and now her two cantankerous neighbors.
She toasted her newfound friends and after a respectable length of time made her excuses. They all hugged and wished each other a Merry Christmas, and she did the same.
As she left she saw a male figure heading toward the elevator. From behind he resembled Simon. He was abo
ut to step through the elevator doors when she called his name.
“Simon?”
He turned abruptly, a frown darkening his face.
“What are you doing here?” she asked.
“Why did you turn John Fitzsimmons down?”
“I think you know,” she said calmly.
“You’re a stubborn woman.”
“You mean you’ve only noticed that now?” She unlocked her door and entered the apartment.
After a moment’s hesitation, Simon followed her inside.
Chapter 17
Simon says: The perfect Christmas is the one I spend with you.
Simon strode into Cassie’s apartment but couldn’t seem to stop moving, from door to window and back again.
Cassie wished she dared to throw her arms around him and halt his frantic pacing.
“Why wouldn’t you agree to at least meet John?” The anger seemed to radiate from him.
“Simon, you know why. I’m in love with you.”
His eyes slammed shut and he clenched his jaw. “I don’t want your love.”
“So you said.” That didn’t change the way she felt, though.
“What harm would it have done to meet John?”
“None, I suppose,” she said with a shrug. “But I felt I would’ve been doing him a disservice.”
It was as though he hadn’t heard her. “In other words, despite your assurances that you’re willing to move on with your life, you refuse to do so,” he challenged.
Cassie sat on her sofa while Simon continued pacing. She tracked his movements with her eyes. “Don’t worry. I’ll date other men—when I’m ready.”
He whirled around and glared at her.
Cassie felt it was her turn to pose a few questions. “Why are you fighting this?” she asked, looking up at him. “And…why are you here at all?”
“I had to talk to you about John.” Simon shook his head. “Don’t you realize marrying me would be a disaster?”
“Really?” It didn’t escape her notice that he hadn’t denied anything—and that he’d brought up marriage. Evidently the subject had been on his mind, which was encouraging. “Why’s that?”
Simon abruptly stood still. “I suspect I’m not telling you anything you don’t know. I’m not…comfortable with emotions on a personal level. I prefer to analyze and guide other people’s emotional lives. I have a hard time admitting this, but I’ve always steered clear of the intensity, the giving up of control…?.” He sounded so unlike the confident, self-assured man she’d come to know, and his vulnerability made him even more appealing.