Beth and the Bachelor. Susan Mallery

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      ‘‘So you liked him.’’

      Beth smiled at her daughter. ‘‘Don’t even go there. I thought he was a pleasant man, and that was unexpected.

      I liked him the way I would like an acquaintance, not the way you would like a boy at school.’’

      Jodi grinned. ‘‘Sure, Mom.’’ She stood up. ‘‘I’m going to shower. Can you finish the cinnamon rolls?’’

      ‘‘Not a problem.’’

      When her daughter had left the room, Beth stared out the window at her backyard. But instead of seeing the hedges, plants and grass, she saw Todd’s face. He was a good-looking man with nearly perfect features. His dark blond hair had been conservatively cut, barely brushing the back of his collar. Cool blue-gray eyes added to his air of mystery. He’d had a straight nose, firm mouth and a body that filled out his clothes in a very nice way. Either he had the best set of genes this side of the Mississippi or he worked out regularly.

      Jodi’s comment still echoed in the quiet of the morning. So you liked him.

      Was that the problem? Had she left her date early because she’d found herself interested in the man? Beth didn’t want to think that was possible. Surely she wasn’t such a coward. But she had an uncomfortable feeling that was exactly what had gone wrong. If she found him charming and attractive, what was not to like? She wasn’t in a position to get involved with anyone—not that Todd would want to get involved with her. She also wasn’t interested in getting hurt. She was thirty-eight years old and she had a bad feeling that like everything else in her body, her heart would take a lot longer to heal than it had at sixteen.

      ‘‘I did the right thing,’’ Beth said aloud. Leaving him like that had been tacky, but getting out of the situation had been exactly right.

      She walked to the front door and opened it. Her newspaper lay on the step. She glanced at the house across the street and for once was grateful that Cindy and Mike were gone for the weekend. At least she had a couple of days reprieve until she had to tell her best friend about her evening. She didn’t want to think about Cindy’s response or how Mike would laugh when his wife confessed Beth’s transgressions.

      As Beth brought the newspaper inside, the bread machine chimed to let her know it had finished. Upstairs she heard Matt stirring and the running water of Jodi’s shower. Her morning was already underway.

      She wouldn’t think about Todd any more today, she told herself. First thing Monday, after the traffic died down, she would drive into the city and find a florist close to his office. She would have them deliver a personal note of apology along with a bouquet of flowers and then she would put the whole thing behind her.

      * * *

      The scent of roses filled his office. Todd stood staring at the large spray of flowers sitting on his credenza. He’d sent hundreds of flowers over the years but this was the first time he could remember a woman sending them to him.

      There was a greeting-card-sized envelope tucked in the greens instead of the usual small florist’s card. He recognized the handwriting—after all, he’d spent much of the weekend reading and rereading the note Beth Davis had left him when she’d walked out on their date. So she’d delivered the note herself to—he checked the address on the delivery notice—a florist just down the street.That was a lot of work for a woman who had stood him up less than seventy-two hours before.

      He opened the card and scanned the contents. It was all a repeat of what she’d written on Friday night. That she was sorry to have left without saying goodbye. She appreciated his kindness and hoped he would understand why the situation had been so difficult for her.

      ‘‘Actually, I don’t understand,’’ he said aloud as he walked to his desk and settled into his leather chair.

      She’d walked out on him. Todd still couldn’t believe that had actually happened. He liked to think that while he had a healthy self-esteem, his ego wasn’t overly inflated. But facts were facts. She was some middle-aged woman from the suburbs and he was a rich, single man. Women threw themselves at him, fawned over him and generally made it clear that he could have them whenever and wherever it was convenient. How could she have left their date early?

      He told himself to let it go. She and the circumstances didn’t matter. Except he couldn’t think about anything else. Although he’d expected to be bored out of his mind, he’d actually enjoyed talking with her. She’d been nervous, obviously freshly divorced and completely out of her league, but she’d charmed him. He liked that she wasn’t impressed by him. Her being unsure of the situation had been because of her inexperience, not his reputation. Her honesty had startled him, but he’d enjoyed knowing she would say what she thought, not what he wanted to hear.

      His phone buzzed. ‘‘Mr. Graham, the marketing team is ready for you.’’

      He pushed a button and spoke. ‘‘I’ll be right there.’’

      He rose from his seat and crossed to the door. Beth Davis had occupied more than her share of his time. His marketing meeting was scheduled to last all afternoon. When it was over, he would give the flowers to his secretary, toss both notes and never think about Beth again. Maybe he needed to get away for a few days. New York? It was April, the weather could be beautiful there. Or even Paris. He could call up one of his on-again off-again companions and make a mini-vacation of it. He would make up his mind when he left the meeting.

      That resolved, he headed down the hall, leaving the flowers, and thoughts of Beth, behind.

      Two hours later he cursed himself and the confusion of street names that was Sugar Land. He was lost. He hadn’t bothered paying attention when R.J. had driven the limo down here and he’d only briefly glanced at his Key Map before leaving work.

      What the hell was he doing? he asked himself again. He’d walked out of a meeting with only the barest of explanations, he’d driven for nearly forty minutes in the middle of the afternoon, and for what? He told himself it was because he wanted to hear Beth’s apology in person. He told himself that it was about being right, and not anything more significant than that. He almost believed it, too.

      ‘‘She’s not my type,’’ he grumbled as he pulled to the side of the road and pulled out his Key Map. He located the right page, then found the street. Up ahead was a sprawling mall. He should have turned left on Austin Parkway instead of right.

      ‘‘She’s not my type and we have nothing in common.’’

      She was too old, too intelligent and too sincere. The woman had children. He didn’t like children. At least he didn’t think he did—after all, he didn’t spend any time around them.

      Todd turned right at the corner and found himself on Beth’s street. Once again he was struck by the similarity of the houses. He studied the address, then pulled up across from the right one.

      A young woman stood in front, watering some plants. She was tall and curvy, wearing a T-shirt and shorts. Todd was startled to realize Beth’s daughter was so old. Beth must have gotten pregnant at sixteen.

      He got out of his car and walked up the driveway. ‘‘Excuse me,’’ he called over the sound of running water. ‘‘Is your mother home?’’

      The girl spun toward him. Todd found himself staring into Beth’s startled blue eyes. Her hair was mussed, her face СКАЧАТЬ