His Love Match. Shirley Hailstock
she walked.
“Who’s doing it?” he asked.
Again there was a pause.
“You’re kidding!” Scott said. This time he sounded as if something incredible had happened.
Diana didn’t get the impression that there was any kidding going on. But she heard Scott agree to the final unheard question. “It’s all right. I get it. I’ll be there.” He ended the call and pocketed the phone.
Diana could tell something was not as he wished it to be, but she wasn’t interested in finding out what was off in his world. She had her own to deal with.
“Why are you following me, Scott? I have a high-profile wedding to get the final plans on, and I don’t have time to be bothered with childish pranks. You’ve already said it’s not about the offices, so what do you want?”
Scott hesitated a moment. “I want to know if you told the truth.”
She frowned, not understanding his question.
“On your profile. Was everything you put in there true?”
Anger, hot, red and eruptive sliced through her like the knife edge of an arctic wind. “As I remember it, lying is your department. And since we aren’t likely to see each other again...” She emphasized again, closing the door on him making further offers on her offices. “I think we should just forget this day ever happened.”
Pivoting on shoes that were now hurting her toes, Diana straightened her back and shoulders and walked away from him. He didn’t follow her, a good choice on his part, she thought. Practically calling her a liar to her face was enough. Another word from either of them would require police protection.
* * *
“How was he?” Theresa “Teddy” Granville jumped up from her chair the moment Diana came through the office door. “Was he as good-looking as we thought?”
Diana dropped her purse on the chair and gave Teddy the look. It should have been patented between them. It was the look they gave each other when a bride chose something that was totally wrong for her theme.
“That bad?” Teddy was nonplussed. She flopped back down in her chair. “After we had such high hopes.”
“After you had high hopes.” It was at Teddy’s insistence that Diana go to MatchforLove.com. Diana had done it to silence her partner. But after she began talking to [email protected], things changed. He seemed to understand her. Even though they never identified themselves by name, he knew she owned her own business and she knew he flew airplanes. She thought he was a pilot.
“What was wrong with him?”
“He was Scott Thomas.”
Teddy came forward in her chair as if she’d been pushed. “Scott Thomas? The Scott Thomas who wants us to move? That Scott Thomas?”
“One and the same,” Diana said.
“That’s impossible.”
“I couldn’t believe it myself. It was all I could do to get out of the coffee shop.”
“Without seeing him?”
“Unfortunately, no,” Diana said. She took a seat in front of Teddy’s desk. The place was neat as a pin, although Teddy was juggling three weddings for the next two weeks. It was time for the brides to get crazy and the mothers of the brides to go ballistic over something minor. Luckily at this moment the phones weren’t ringing with complaints. “I wished I could have become invisible when I saw him, but he spotted me and we talked.”
“Talked?”
“We both agreed that the dating service had made a terrible mistake. No way are we compatible.”
“That’s all?”
“Pretty much.”
“Pretty much, what?” As usual Teddy read between the lines and persisted.
“As we were parting he called me a liar.”
“What?” Her eyes grew big.
“Not in those exact words. He asked me if everything I put in my profile was true.”
“Well it was, wasn’t it?” Teddy asked.
“Teddy!”
“I mean,” she stammered. “We all like to embellish ourselves a little online.”
“I did not embellish.”
At that moment the phone rang. Diana got up to leave. At the door Teddy stopped her. “Well, at least he’s good-looking,” she said.
Diana frowned at her and went to her own office. It was a contrast to the orderliness of Teddy’s. Diana worked in chaos. She knew where everything was, and she could put her hands on it without error.
Good-looking, Teddy had said. Diana supposed if she thought about him without the animosity that clouded his image, Scott was pleasant to look at. More than that. He had great eyes. They were probably his best feature, dark brown, fringed by long lashes. His cheeks had dimples that drove the women crazy in college. They hadn’t diminished in effect in the ten years since they graduated. He wasn’t a football player, but his lean features boded well for the diving team. Diana remembered the broad shoulders that tapered to a thin waist and strong muscular legs. Diana had to admit he was good-looking. If she was planning one of her bridal fashion shows, he’d be a shoo-in for a tuxedo model.
Diana glanced down at her desk. Several bridal magazines lay open in 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