9781631050275TheirPerfectMatchMarshNC (8 page)

“You handled that like a pro. Brenda thinks you might have a career in show business ahead of you.”

“Please! I can’t think of anything I’d enjoy less.”

“So the infomercial is out,” Molly joked, glancing at Brenda. Laughing, Zane followed the two of them back to the outer office, where a reedy young man in a deliveryman’s uniform stood beside Brenda’s desk.

“Hello, Decker,” Molly said, noticing that Zane paused to stare at Decker as well. “Busy week? We haven’t seen you in a few days.”

“Yeah, it’s been pretty hectic,” Decker answered with a shrug. He reached out for Brenda’s hand and brought it to his lips with an exaggerated flourish. “However, I managed to get an extra-long lunch, and I was hoping to take my lovely lady out somewhere special. Could you see your way to letting Brenda go for a couple of hours? I’m sure she can make up the time later.”

“Sure, go ahead,” Molly said with an overly casual shrug. She couldn’t quite suppress a twinge of envy at Decker’s obvious adoration of Brenda. “We can work something out later. Have fun.”

“Thanks, Mol,” Brenda said with a love-struck glow on her face. “I really will make it up to you.”

“Speaking of lunch, I’ve got to go, too,” Todd said as he entered the room behind them. “Sabrina’s meeting me.” He, too, got a dreamy look in his eyes as he began to blather in a way that made Molly’s stomach churn. “What an amazing woman she is. I wait all day just to spend half an hour staring at her. As soon as we say goodbye, I start counting the minutes until I can be with her again. It’s amazing. This must be the real thing, don’t you think?” His eyes sought Zane’s as if looking for male approval. Molly was pleased that Zane didn’t respond.

“Congratulations,” Molly said dryly. Why did he have to seize every opportunity to grind his newfound happiness into her like a boot heel to the face? Worse, he seemed incapable of imagining that she would feel anything other than ecstatically happy for him? The time since their breakup seemed to have passed at a far different pace for him than it had for her. She wondered if he even remembered much about their relationship at all. “I wouldn’t want to stand in the way of a grand passion like that, so go ahead. Take all the time you want. I’ll mind the store.”

“Thanks, Mol.” Todd echoed Brenda, but Molly found the sentiment, not to mention the nickname, far less endearing when it came from him. “I’ll be back as soon as I can. I’ll get Zane’s vid uploaded this afternoon, promise.”

After her two employees and Decker had left, Molly found, somewhat to her surprise, that Zane had lingered.

“So you’ll be here alone?” he asked, looking around the deserted office with a raised brow. “What about your lunch break?”

“I don’t mind grabbing something later. Meanwhile. I can catch up on my work. I need to plan some more advertising and answer my emails.”

She’d assumed he was about to excuse himself and follow the others out so she could get to it, but instead he slid his hands into his pockets and rocked back on his heels in a casual pose she found amazingly sexy. “You know, I couldn’t help but notice that you seemed a little down before. You know, when those two were gloating about their hot lunch dates. Nice of you to give them extra time.”

“I don’t mind if they go out for lunch. I just hope they don’t have too much wine.” Molly attempted a carefree smile, but it wasn’t the least bit convincing and she knew it.

“Come out for lunch with me,” Zane suddenly asked.

“What? How can I? I mean…there’ll be no one here in case a client shows up.”

“Simple. Your phones take messages, right? Just put a sign on the door that you’ll reopen at 1:30. That gives us an hour and a half. Why should you get less time to eat than your employees? Take your executive privilege.”

Molly consulted the date book lying open on Brenda’s desk. “Well, I don’t seem to have any appointments…”

“Done. Come on, then.”

“Okay,” Molly said, relenting. In some ways, Zane had a point. She needed lunch, and she had as much of a right as Brenda and Todd to enjoy an hour off and unwind a bit. She tugged her jacket off the rack by the door. “There’s a deli on the corner. I guess we could grab a quick sandwich there.”

Zane shook his head as he took the coat from her and held it for her to slip into. She saw his face cloud over as though he were thinking something through. “Actually, I have someplace special in mind.” As they moved toward the door, his hand drifted away from his hip pocket and found its way to her back instead. Molly’s pulse rate jumped a few points above normal. “We can even walk there—if you don’t mind roughing it for a few blocks.”

“I don’t.” Molly glanced with dismay at her shoes. The heels were a good inch higher than she normally wore—another misguided attempt to jazz up her “best friend” image. Well, she’d just have to grimace and bear it. And try not to pitch flat on her face in front of Zane.

“That’s good. I like to walk. This way we won’t have to bother with meters or traffic jams. When I know where I’m going, I don’t like things that to slow me down.”

“I got that feeling.”

They walked along, the April breeze gusting cool against her face and giving her an excuse to keep her head down and watch him discreetly. Zane’s reactions to her were proving difficult to get a handle on. Was she imagining the flicker of interest she saw in his face whenever he glanced over at her, or was he just sizing her up professionally? After all, a thousand dollars probably represented a sizable investment for an ex-sailor. And what could be a more important investment than a lover, a life partner? He had every right to make her earn his trust before committing to Lovelines, especially after the way she’d acted on Friday. She was still wondering how to apologize for that little freak-out. “It had been a long day” seemed woefully inadequate, even if it was more or less the truth.

“Is that a private charter, or can anyone board?” His voice intruded on her thoughts like the slow trickle of thick, sweet chocolate syrup over ice cream.

Startled from her thoughts, she turned and blinked up at him. “Excuse me?”

“That flight of fancy you’re on. Its wheels were just about to leave the runway, to judge by your expression. I was hoping you had room for one more.”

“I—I was just thinking about some conversations I need to have after lunch.”

“Ah.” They came to a crosswalk, and Molly waited beside him in uneasy silence until the walk signal buzzed. Zane reached out to cup her elbow while they crossed the street. Molly groaned inwardly. They hadn’t gone two blocks from the office, and already she was doing a slow burn from the inside out.

Conversation lagged as Zane guided her down one street, across a few more, and finally led her into a neighborhood she’d never noticed before. The area was far from upscale. Sagging Victorian homes stood like weary sentinels on both sides of the street, interspersed here and there with an equally grimy brownstone. Even the pavement was pitted and cracked, with straggly brown weeds poking through the fractured asphalt.

Still, the more she studied them, the more Molly appreciated the simple, homey charm of her surroundings. Well-loved toys and tricycles sat beside adult-sized rocking chairs and outdoor grills, and almost every window box still held the drying husks of summer flowers. Halfway down the block, a chubby orange cat peered suspiciously at them and rubbed its body against a massive ceramic planter. A Sox banner flapped proudly overhead.

Molly smiled, both at the cat and at the quiet simplicity of the whole scene. The breakneck pace of Providence seemed a world away. So did her own ultramodern condominium, with its antiseptic pewter carpets and its firm “no-pet” policy.

One question nagged at her though. What kind of restaurant could possibly be located here?

 Zane seemed to read her mind. Recapturing her arm, he guided her around the next corner, past a no-frills laundromat and a brick-front pharmacy that could have doubled as sets for a movie set in the 1950s. “Almost there.”

Molly tried not to think about the ache in her feet while he led her down another short block and through a line of parked cars. Though every parking spot was filled, the sidewalk was nearly empty.

“I didn’t know there were any quiet spots like this left in the city,” she mused.

“People like to park down here, but they tend to shop and work closer to the main drag. That suits the rest of us just fine.”

“The ‘rest of us’?” she asked curiously.

Zane shrugged. “Those of us who know the neighborhood, I mean. It doesn’t just look old-fashioned around here. There’s still a community of people who care about and watch out for one another. That’s pretty rare these days.”

To underscore his point, he raised his hand in greeting to a middle-aged woman who stood outside a shop, arranging antique furniture for sale. The woman waved back and directed a pointedly curious look at Molly.

“Yes, it is,” Molly admitted. “But why do you know this place so well? I thought you’d been away at sea.”

“I grew up here. Two and a half blocks from this very spot, to be precise. That’s another thing about the people here. They don’t forget you, no matter how long you’ve been away.”

Molly nodded. She could certainly understand why the female population, at least, would be unable or unwilling to forget Zane Bishop.

Finally, he motioned toward a squat brick building on their left. “Here we are.”

Though it was in better repair than the others on the block, its red mortar façade and foot-worn wooden threshold suggested that, like the buildings around it, the Crackerbox Tavern belonged to a simpler era that had now almost vanished. When Zane pushed open the door, Molly saw that the décor inside did nothing to dispel the illusion. The arrangement of chrome-and-vinyl booths, neat plaid tablecloths, and especially the old-fashioned soda fountain beside the grill gave the impression that they’d stepped backward through time.

Zane seemed to mistake her genuine pleasure in the Crackerbox for something else. “Don’t worry,” he laughed, sliding his arm under hers. “The Board of Health has given its stamp of approval. I hope you’re prepared for a truly memorable dining experience.”

As far as Molly was concerned, it had become that the moment his body made contact with hers. Surprisingly, she’d forgotten all about the hunger that had gnawed at her stomach for hours. It returned in a rush when she noticed the chalkboard advertising a daily special of Yankee Pot Roast with homemade bread and potatoes included.

Zane chose a booth at the back of the room and guided her toward it, his arm still tight against hers. A few of the patrons, most of them elderly men, glanced up as they walked by. Molly heard one of them whisper to the other, but she couldn’t make out what they said. Apparently, Zane hadn’t exaggerated when he’d said that the people around here tended to look out for one another. Someone with a different point of view might describe their interest less charitably.

She surveyed the other patrons’ flannel shirts and work boots with dismay. “I think I’m a little overdressed,” she confided as they settled into the booth. She was also the only non-white patron, but mentioning that seemed a bit crass, not to mention obvious.

Zane winked. “Don’t be silly. You look beautiful, and that fits in anywhere as far as I’m concerned.”

He took her coat and draped it carefully over the back of her bench. He did the same with his own leather jacket, exposing his muscular forearms for Molly’s admiration.

Her pulse began to thud in her ears. In an effort to distract herself, Molly scanned the walls. They were decorated with athletic memorabilia, the space above each booth devoted to a different sport. Directly over their heads hung a laminated hockey stick, a tiny plaque underneath identifying it as belonging to a professional player she’d never heard of, though her ignorance in that field covered quite a bit of territory. A bronzed baseball glove adorned the next booth, which sat empty, and just beyond that she could see what looked like a pair of ice skates.

The display that captured her attention most though, was the one that occupied the brick wall facing her. This one featured a framed, black-and-white publicity shot of a bantam-weight boxer, stripped to the waist with his gloved hands raised in front of him. His dark hair was slicked back 1950s style, a single loose strand draped across his lowered brow. His thin lips crinkled in a carefully posed sneer. An autograph was scribbled across the bottom of the photo, though Molly was too far away to make out what it said. To the left of the frame hung a pair of weathered brown boxing gloves, apparently the same ones featured in the picture.

Something about the picture touched a spark of recognition in her, though she couldn’t imagine why. She knew even less about boxing than she did about hockey.

“Why don’t I get us some coffee?” Zane suggested. He waved toward the grill, and moments later Molly found herself staring at what could only have been a garden gnome sprung magically to life. Tiny cataract-blurred eyes squinted down at her from a round face seasoned with cavernous wrinkles.

“Flinty, this is Miss Grayson,” Zane introduced her. “She deserves a lot better than that greasy mush you call food, but I decided this joint could use a little class.”

“Yeah? If it’s so bad, why are you in here every morning, noon, and night?”

Zane shrugged as he bit back a smile. “Because it’s cheap and convenient, and I developed a tolerant stomach at sea.” The gnome’s cackling response showed that he didn’t take Zane’s ribbing seriously. Instead, he reached over and poured two cups of strong-smelling coffee for them. His rolled-up shirtsleeves allowed Molly an unobstructed view of the intricate tattoos decorating both arms. Meanwhile, Zane turned his attention back to her. “Molly, meet Jeremiah Flint, otherwise known as Flinty, the owner of this fine establishment. “

 Flinty gave a good-natured snort and propped an open menu in front of her. “You get tired of this smooth-talkin’ seadog, Missy, you just let me know. I might not be as young and handsome as he is, but I know how to treat a woman right.”

Zane closed his menu without bothering even to scan it. “Bring me the special.” He paused to wink at Molly. “I recommend you order the same. It’ll save all three of us a lot of time and stress.”