The Perfect Match: First Comes Marriage / Yours and Mine. Debbie Macomber
completely at her grandfather’s mercy. He was an unshakably stubborn man who almost always got what he wanted. Faced with a mountain, Anton Hartman either climbed it, tunneled through it or forged a path around it; failing such active alternatives, he settled down in the foothills and waited for the mountain to dissolve. He claimed he won a majority of his battles by simply displaying patience. Janine called it not knowing when to pack up and go home.
She knew her grandfather’s methods, but then so did Zach. She hoped Anton’s candidate for her husband would at least be able to withstand a few bribes, however tempting. Apparently he did, because he’d told her she had nothing to worry about. On the other hand, he sounded downright eager to discuss the subject with her.
“He says he never wants to get married,” she muttered aloud in an effort to reassure herself. Indeed, Zachary Thomas was the last man who’d be humming “The Wedding March”—especially when someone else was directing the band.
Janine was waiting in the library, coat draped over her arm, when her grandfather got home at six-thirty. He kissed her dutifully on the cheek and reached for the evening paper, scanning the headlines as he settled into his big leather chair.
“Zach called,” she said without thinking. She hadn’t intended to mention that to Gramps.
Anton nodded. “I thought he might. You meeting him for dinner?”
“Dinner? Zach and me?” she squeaked. “No, of course not! Why would you even think I’d agree to a dinner date with…him?” Darn, she’d nearly forgotten her promise to keep their meeting a secret. She detested lying to her grandfather, but there was no help for it.
“But you are dining out?”
“Yes.” She couldn’t very well deny that, dressed as she was and carrying her coat.
“Then you’re seeing Peter Donahue again?”
“No. Not exactly,” Janine said uncomfortably, “I’m meeting a…friend.”
“I see.” The corners of Gramps’s mouth quirked into a knowing smile.
Janine could feel the telltale heat saturating her face. She was a terrible liar and always had been. Gramps knew as surely as if she’d spelled it out that she was meeting Zach. And when she told Zach she’d let it slip, he’d be furious with her, and rightly so.
“What did Zach want?”
“What makes you think he wanted anything?” Janine asked fervently. Her heart was thundering as she edged toward the door. The sooner she escaped, the better.
“You just said Zach phoned.”
“Oh. Yes, he did, earlier, but it wasn’t important. Something about…something.” Brilliant! She rushed out of the house before Gramps could question her further. What a fool she was. She’d blurted out the very thing she’d wanted to keep secret.
By the time Janine located the Italian restaurant in the University district and found a parking place, she was ten minutes late.
Zach was sitting in a booth in the farthest corner of the room. He frowned when he saw her and glanced at his watch, just so she’d know she’d kept him waiting.
Ignoring his disgruntled look, Janine slid onto the polished wooden bench, removed her coat and casually announced, “Gramps knows.”
Zach’s frown deepened. “What are you talking about?”
“He knows I’m having dinner with you,” she explained. “The minute he walked in the door, I told him you’d called—I just wasn’t thinking—and when he asked why, I told him it had to do with something. I’m sure you’ll be able to make up an excuse when he asks you later.”
“I thought we agreed not to say anything about our meeting.”
“I know,” she said, feeling guiltier than ever. “But Gramps asked if I was going out with Peter and he just looked so smug when I told him I wasn’t.” At Zach’s sudden movement, she burst out, “Well, what was I supposed to do?”
He grunted, which wasn’t much of an answer.
“If I wasn’t going out with Peter, I’d have to come up with another man on the spot, and although I’m clever, I don’t think that fast.” She was breathless with frustration when she’d finished.
“Who’s Peter?”
“This guy I’ve been seeing off and on for the past few months.”
“And you’re in love with him?”
“No, I’m not.” Doubtless Zach would suggest she simply marry Peter and put an end to all of this annoyance.
Zach reached abruptly for the menu. “Let’s order, and while we’re eating we can go over what we need to discuss.”
“All right,” Janine said, grateful to leave the topic of her blunder. Besides, seven was later than she normally dined, and she was famished.
The waitress appeared then, and even as she filled Janine’s water glass, her appreciative gaze never strayed from Zach. Once more Janine was struck by the knowledge that although he wasn’t handsome in the traditional sense, he seemed to generate a good deal of female interest.
“I’ll have the clam spaghetti,” Janine said loudly, eyeing the attractive waitress, who seemed to be forgetting why she was there. The woman was obviously far more interested in studying Zach than in taking their order.
“I’ll have the same,” Zach said, smiling briefly at the waitress as he handed her his menu. “Now, what were you saying?” he asked, returning his attention to Janine.
“As I recall, you were the one who insisted we meet. Just tell me what my grandfather said and be done with it.” No doubt the offer had been generous; otherwise Zach wouldn’t have suggested this dinner.
Zach’s hand closed around the water glass. “Anton called me into his office to ask me a series of leading questions.”
“Such as?”
Zach shrugged. “What I thought of you and—”
“How’d you answer him?”
Zach took a deep breath. “I said I found you attractive, energetic, witty, a bit eccentric—”
“A bandanna dress and a string of Christmas-tree lights doesn’t make me eccentric,” Janine said, her voice rising despite herself.
“If the Christmas-tree lights are draped around your neck it does.”
They were attracting attention, and after a few curious stares, Zach leaned closer and said, “If you’re going to argue with everything I say, we’ll be here all night.”
“I’m sure our waitress would enjoy that,” Janine snapped, then immediately regretted it. She sounded downright jealous—which, of course, was ridiculous.
“What are you talking about?”
“Never mind.”
“Shall we return to the conversation between your grandfather and me?”
“Please,” she said, properly chastised.
“Anton spent quite a long time telling me about your volunteer work at the Friendship Club and your various other community activities.”
“And I’ll bet his report was so glowing, I rank right up there with Joan of Arc and Florence Nightingale.”
Zach grinned. “Something like that, but then he added that although you were constantly busy, he felt your life lacked contentment and purpose.”
Janine could see it coming, as clearly as if she were standing on a track and a freight train was heading toward her. “Let me guess. He probably said I needed something meaningful in my life—like a husband and children.”
“Exactly.”