His Love Match. Shirley Hailstock

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СКАЧАТЬ front of her. One by one she scanned the pages and studied the grooms. Not one of the men smiling up at her had an ounce of the gorgeous good looks that Scott Thomas had.

      Looks weren’t everything, she thought. The man was still a jerk. And even though he could turn the head of every woman in town, Diana knew the two of them should never have been matched.

      * * *

      Scott loosened his tie and opened his collar in the same instant he came through the garage door into the mudroom. As usual the house was cool and quiet. In the kitchen he opened the refrigerator and grabbed the container of orange juice. It was nearly empty. He lifted the container to drink, but his mother’s words came back to him, and he poured a glassfull and drank it in one long gulp.

      The answering machine showed eight new messages. Aside from his sister, people usually called or sent text messages to his cell phone. It was unusual for anyone to contact him on his landline. Checking his cell, he found another nine unread texts. As he scrolled through them he felt both grateful and disappointed that none were from Diana. Why he should expect to see anything from her, he didn’t understand. She’d made it plain that there could never be anything between them, so why would he think she’d call? Apology, maybe. He shook his head. That was unlikely.

      Pressing the button on the answering machine he listened to the calls. Most of them were either from Bill Quincy or his bride-to-be, Jennifer Embry, a couple who’d talked him into being a member of their wedding this afternoon while he was on the street with Diana. Bill thanked him for standing in for Oscar Peterson, who’d been in an accident and would be laid up for the next several weeks. He’d recover, but not in time for the nuptials. Jennifer, a numerologist, wouldn’t have her numbers thrown out of whack. Scott knew she’d postpone the wedding before doing that.

      The other calls were from Jennifer giving him details of where and when he needed to be. She called to change his tuxedo appointment twice.

      The reason he agreed to stand in for Oscar was that Bill had told him the wedding was being planned by Diana’s firm. At the time he thought it was ironic and he wanted to get him off the phone. But now he was sorry he’d agreed. Impulsiveness wasn’t one of his traits. As a pilot he had to be steady and thoughtful, but Bill was a friend. To stand up for him, he’d make the sacrifice. Scott felt no disappointment at not being included in the original plans. He could do without weddings. Being involved in one was something to be avoided, like air pockets and bumper-to-bumper traffic. He was sure when Bill called him, he was last on the list and the only one available.

      Scott was committed now. He had an appointment for a tuxedo fitting, and his name had been added to the programs. Jennifer expected him at the rehearsal and the rehearsal dinner. The wedding was the following weekend.

      The answering machine clicked off. Scott grabbed the television remote and pressed the power button. He smiled to himself. What was Diana going to think when he showed up at the wedding rehearsal? He remembered her strutting out of sight as she walked into the garage. Her parting words told him that she never wanted to see him again. She was wrong. She’d see him. And sooner than she thought.

      He’d angered her. There had been times in the past when he’d intentionally intimidated her, but today that wasn’t his plan. They had rubbed each other the wrong way since their first meeting. While he’d followed her to the garage, she could have heard only one side of the conversation he was having—if she was listening. He was sure she was. In his experience, women always listened. But Diana had never followed the mold. He couldn’t say he knew her, but he knew that beneath the facade of calm she showed to the world was a smoldering woman. He’d found that out when he kissed her on campus in broad daylight, a lifetime ago.

      To think that all these years later, he could still remember that kiss. Her kiss. Scott had kissed his share of women. They seemed to hover around him like skydivers in formation, but none of them were memorable. None but Diana.

      And next weekend he’d have another chance to piss her off.

      * * *

      Scott didn’t know how long he’d been waiting, but he was getting irritated. He had a flight today, and he needed to get this fitting done and return to this office. Pulling out his phone, he reviewed his missed calls. His sister Piper’s number and her photo appeared on the display. He couldn’t help smiling. The photo was taken at her wedding four years ago. It was of the two of them, their faces near replicas of their parents. He should have returned her previous call, but with all the appointments this wedding required, it slipped his mind. He pushed the send button and waited for her to answer.

      “Hi,” she said. “I’ve been dying to talk to you. How was the meeting? What did she look like? I have a thousand questions. Did the two of you connect?”

      Scott laughed from deep in his belly. His sister was a nonstop talking machine. He sobered and tried to decide how to begin and how much to tell. He should have thought of this before he dialed her number. He’d tell her about the meeting. He could describe Diana, give Piper all the answers she wanted, but he would leave out the fact that the woman in question was Brainiac.

      “Well, go on. Tell me,” she commanded. “Is she the woman of your dreams?”

      “I’m not sure about that.”

      “Did she meet all those ridiculous requirements you put in?”

      “I haven’t found that out yet,” Scott said. “We only met for lunch. I didn’t have time to interrogate her.” Scott’s forced laugh took the sting out of his words.

      He went through describing Diana. He told Piper she had dark hair, omitting that it was lustrous and fell over her shoulders and down her back like a cascading waterfall. He shared that her eyes were brown, but he didn’t add that they were like looking into melting pools of coal. He said she was dressed in business clothes, but didn’t say that the suit hugged her curves the way his hands wanted to or that her shoes supported legs that were as long as the Garden State Parkway.

      “Did the two of you connect?” she asked.

      “In a way,” Scott hedged, knowing his sister would not let that go.

      “What do you mean?”

      “Remember the woman I told you about when I was in college? The one with the long hair.”

      “You mean the one who always had her head in a book?” Piper asked. “Didn’t you call her something? Brain something. Yeah, Brainiac.”

      “Her name is Diana Greer.” It was her, but Scott didn’t want to tell his sister. He’d said so many things about Diana that were not flattering that he didn’t want Piper to have a more negative picture of her than had already been painted.

      “Was it her?”

      “It was her,” he admitted.

      Piper laughed for a moment. “It’s like that movie. You probably don’t know it. It’s a chick flick—You’ve Got Mail. The couple don’t realize they know each other. It has–”

      “I know the movie,” Scott interrupted.

      Piper seemed to sober. “I’m sorry this didn’t work out, Scott.” Piper was the only person he’d told about the matchmaking service. Of course she supported him. She always did. “I remember you said she had so much hair that when she had her nose in a book, she looked like Cousin Itt.”

      Scott СКАЧАТЬ