Heartstrings and Diamond Rings (26 page)

She had Justin now. And she was sure he was going to be everything she’d ever wanted.

The next Tuesday afternoon, Brandon sat at his desk, staring at his laptop screen, almost unable to believe what he was looking at. Just to be sure, he double‑checked the numbers, but there was no mistake. His revenue minus expenses, including refunds he’d be giving to clients for matches never made, plus the eight thousand that his grandmother had in the business account when she died, equaled thirty-two thousand six hundred dollars and change.

He’d done it.

Tom came into his office and sat down in the chair in front of his desk. “So what’s the verdict?”

 “The money’s there. Two months ahead of schedule.”

“Are you kidding me? You already have it?”

“Yep.”

“Your crazy plan
worked
?”

“Looks that way.”

Tom grinned. “I swear to God I’ll never question you again.” He rubbed his hands together. “Hot damn. We’re back in the game again.”

“Uh-huh.”

“And don’t forget. There’s still the possibility that the rezoning request will be approved for the property next door.”

“That may not come through.”

“But if it does, we’re gonna be filthy freakin’
rich
.”

“When’s the hearing on that?” Brandon asked.

“We should know something in a few days. Hey! How about we hit McCaffrey’s tonight and celebrate?”

Nope. No way was he ever going there again. “Nah. I think I’ll just hang out here tonight.”

“Hey, why are you being such a party pooper? This is what you’ve been working toward for the past four months.”

“I know.”

“So smile, will you? This is gonna be
great
.”

“Justin is taking Alison on a trip to San Antonio this weekend.”

Tom flicked his eyes left and right. “Uh…so?”

“I’m the one who suggested he do that.”

“I know. And now your work there is done. Another successful match. Which we can also celebrate at McCaffrey’s.”

“No. It was a mistake. Justin is the wrong man for Alison.”

“What do you mean? He looked right to me.”

“She’s going to be miserable with him.”

“She’s also a big girl who can take care of herself.”

“She shouldn’t be settling for a man like him.”

“That’s up to her.”

“But I’m the one who set her up. If he’s the wrong man, it’s my fault.”

Tom sat back, eyeing Brandon carefully. “This isn’t about your responsibilities as a fake matchmaker, is it? This is about the fact that you have an incurable case of the hots for Alison that you just can’t seem to shake.”

Brandon closed his eyes, feeling miserable.

Tom leaned forward. “Listen to me, Brandon. I get it. I like Alison, too. But we’re on the verge of something big here. If you get distracted, we’re going to have problems. And you and I both know that in the end, you’d make her way more miserable than Justin ever could.”

“What do you mean?”

“You’re just like me. We don’t stay put. We go where there’s money to be made. But what does Alison want? A guy who’ll do the eight to five, mow the lawn, raise three or four kids with her, and be at the dinner table at exactly six o’clock every evening. Now, is that the kind of life you want?”

Tom was right. Brandon used to say he’d shoot himself in the head if he ever found himself tied down like that. And nothing had really changed. He’d used the matchmaking business as a means to an end, and the end had come.

It was time for him to go.

“I’m heading to McCaffrey’s,” Tom said. “Tracy’s working tonight. I think I’m starting to wear her down. Come on over if you change your mind.”

“Yeah. I will.”

“I’ll call down to the title company and get the closing set up. If I can get an appointment for next week, is that okay with you?”

“Yeah. That’s fine.”

After Tom left, Brandon looked again at the figures on the screen, then closed the file. The
tick, tick, tick
of the grandfather clock in the hall seemed to grow louder with every minute that passed, counting off the seconds until he left this house, and this town, for good.

Tom was right. He’d known for a long time he could never be the kind of man Alison wanted, so that was off the table. But he still couldn’t shake the feeling that he’d made a terrible mistake when he’d matched her up with Justin, and if she eventually married him, she’d be miserable for the rest of her life.

Stay out of it. What’s done is done.

Over the next few days, he genuinely thought he’d convinced himself to do that. But by the time Friday came and he knew Alison was leaving town with Justin, he was in a dilemma all over again.

He decided he just needed to talk to her. That was all. He just needed to express his professional concern. If she agreed with him, she’d break up with Justin and find another man. If she disagreed with him, she’d stay with Justin and that would be the end of it. Then he could leave town with a clear conscience and get on with his life.

And she could get on with hers.

A
lison decided the unseasonably warm October weekend the weatherman had predicted meant she’d better bring a few sleeveless shirts along, particularly if they were going to be spending a lot of time on the River Walk. She grabbed a couple from her closet, folded them, and stuck them in her suitcase. Beside them were the sexy nightgowns she’d bought for the occasion, scraps of satin and lace that left little to the imagination. She’d suffered a minor body image crisis when she tried them on, then decided what the hell. She’d also bought some sexy bras and panties, too. In the event that Justin suddenly went wild and dragged her into a hotel linen closet, ripped off her clothes, and ravished her, she wanted to look the part of a wanton woman.

If only.

I’d like to book one room instead of two
, he’d said when he told her he wanted to take her away for the weekend. And if only he’d stopped there, given her a smoldering look, raised an eyebrow, or otherwise offered any reason at all for her to feel the fantasy, everything would have been fine. Instead, he’d instantly backtracked.
It’s not that I’m being cheap. That’s not why I want only one room. We can get two if you’d rather. I just thought that the two of us could, you know, if we were in the same room together, we might be able to…

And she’d had to jump in to tell him one room would be fine, because it really was time. She’d put it off long enough. And then he’d gone on to tell her not to worry, that he wasn’t taking her to the Alamo because dead people weren’t romantic. Whatever the hell that meant.

For some reason, she still felt as if she needed one more date, one more opportunity for her to feel that closeness she craved. Justin was twice the man Randy was, and she’d been ready to
marry
him. So why couldn’t she warm up to Justin?

Because she didn’t want nice. She wanted hot and exciting. She wanted her heart to beat so fast it was painful. She wanted to feel a man’s eyes boring into her with an
I want you
look that made her bones melt. She wanted to feel her blood heat up and race through her veins, telling her this man was
the one
.

But that was unrealistic. It was time to put those thoughts behind her.

Modest expectations.

She was zipping up her suitcase and setting it on the floor by her sofa about the time her doorbell rang. She checked her watch. Justin was early. She opened the door without checking the peephole and got a shock.

Brandon was standing there.

For a moment she couldn’t speak. Even standing upright was a bit of a challenge, and she felt her face heat up as if she was standing in front of an open furnace.

“Hi, Alison,” he said. “Mind if I come in?”

“Uh…no. Of course not.”

She stepped aside and he walked into her living room, and as he passed by she caught a whiff of that wonderful soap or shampoo or whatever it was he used that made him smell all earthy and woodsy and brought back all kinds of nice memories.

What are you doing here? And why do you have to smell so damned good?

He glanced at her suitcase. “Heather told me you and Justin are going away for the weekend.”

“Yeah. San Antonio. We’re staying at a hotel on the River Walk.”

“How are you two getting along?”

“Good,” she said. “Good.”

“Are you sure?”

“Uh…yeah. Why wouldn’t we be?”

He shoved his hands into his pockets, then blew out a breath. “I’ll admit it, Alison. I think I’ve made another mistake. I’m not sure you and Justin are right for each other.”

She just stood there, stunned. “What are you talking about? Justin and I are perfect for each other.”

“Are you really?”

“Yes. He has everything I’ve ever wanted in a man. He’s responsible and hardworking, and he wants to get married and have a family.”

“What else?”

“What else is there?”

“How do you feel when you’re around him?”

“What do you mean?”

“You told me once that people want to be wrapped up in soft, fuzzy little strings from their heart to their soul mate’s heart. Is that what it feels like?”

Alison turned away and zipped up her suitcase. “Yeah. That’s what it feels like.”

“You’re lying.”

She whipped back around. “What?”

“I’m a pretty good matchmaker when it comes to other people. But when it comes to you? I can’t get it right. I’ve never gotten it right. What makes you think I got it right with Justin?”

“Don’t sell yourself short. You
did
get it right. Justin and I are meant for each other.”

Brandon took a couple of steps forward. “Okay, then. Imagine this. Imagine Christmas morning. Imagine opening your gift from Justin. It’s a vacuum cleaner. Every attachment there is. Top of the line. And Justin has the documentation to prove it, which he’ll be happy to recite to you.”

“What’s wrong with that?” she said. “It’s practical. I like practical.”

“And then it’ll be a washing machine on your birthday, and a DustBuster on Valentine’s day.”

“At least he’ll buy me gifts. That’s more than some women can say about their husbands.”

“How does he feel about your cats?”

She paused, suddenly feeling a little shaky. “He’s okay with them.”

“Okay?”

“He’ll learn to love them.”

“Hmm. Let’s recap here. You’re getting serious about a man who wears sweater vests, hates your cats, and gives you appliances on special occasions.”

“If he’s so awful, why did you set me up with him?”

“Because he’s what you said you wanted. The trouble is, what you want isn’t good for you.”

“But he
is
good for me,” Alison said, even shakier now.

“Are you in love with him?”

She turned away, hoping he didn’t see the answer on her face. She wanted to get all huffy and tell him it was none of his business, but since she’d been asking herself that same question, huffiness was hard to come by.

“I think I need a little more time for that,” she said. “But it’s coming. I know it is. We’re going away this weekend. I’m sure after that—”

“How about a little excitement? A little passion? Don’t you want those things?”

“I did when I was twenty and ignorant. I know better now. Love isn’t going to strike me like a thunderbolt out of the blue. That’s unrealistic.”

“So you’re giving up?”

“Giving
up
? I’m not giving up anything. For once in my life, I’m finally
getting
something.”

“Yeah. Maybe. But not half as much as you deserve.”

Alison narrowed her eyes. “Why are you doing this? Justin and I have been dating for weeks. Why are you suddenly showing up and telling me all this now?”

“Because Heather told me you’re going away for the weekend with him. That ups the ante. And the more I thought about it, the more I realized what a mistake I’d made. What a mistake
you’re
making. You’re just not right for each other.”

Just then the doorbell rang. Alison turned around to look at the door. Her future was on the other side of it. Or, at least, she was pretty sure it was.

Wasn’t it?

Yes, damn it, it was. And Brandon had no right to characterize it any other way.

“That’s Justin,” she said. “He’s here to pick me up.”

“Don’t do it, Alison,” Brandon said. “If you stay with him, you’ll be miserable for the rest of your life, and it’ll be my fault for setting you up with him.”

She lowered her voice. “You know what? You’re right. Justin isn’t the most exciting man in the world. But I’m tired, you know? Tired of searching. Tired of hoping. Tired of life passing me by. Tired of watching good things happen to everyone else while nothing good ever happens to me. Justin is giving me ninety percent of what I’m looking for. If I wait for the other ten, I’ll be alone for the rest of my life. So
don’t
screw this up for me!”

With that, she went to the door and opened it. Justin stepped inside, and Alison gave him a kiss. She didn’t get carried away with it, but it was more than just a peck on the lips. Then Justin turned and spotted Brandon.

“Brandon! Hey, how are you?”

“Good. I’m good. So…you two are heading down to San Antonio, I hear.”

“Yeah. Making a weekend of it.”

Silence.

“Uh…Brandon just dropped by to give me a key to his house for the home tour,” Alison said.

“Yeah,” Brandon said. “And I need to be going now. You two have a good time.”

As Justin went over to grab Alison’s suitcase, Brandon looked at her one last time before walking out the door. His expression said it all:
he’s not the man for you, and he never will be.

Alison closed the door behind him and stood there a moment, wishing Brandon had never shown up, never said all those things that only added to her own uncertainty.

“Alison?” Justin said. “Is something wrong?”

She turned around and managed a smile. “No. Of course not.”

“You look a little sick. There’s flu going around, you know. Did you get your flu shot?”

Preventive health measures. One of Justin’s favorite topics. “Yeah. I got my flu shot.”

“At least two weeks ago? It takes that long for the vaccine to take effect.”

“To tell you the truth, Justin, I really don’t remember. Does it change our plans for the weekend?”

He paused. Actually
paused
. “Well, no. I guess not. Unless you really are sick.”

“I never said anything about being sick. You did.”

Justin blinked. “Okay, then. Let’s get on the road. I’d like to get there as soon after sunset as possible. These glasses don’t have antireflective coating, and the glare of headlights gives me a headache.”

As he grabbed her suitcase, Alison pictured five hours in the car with him. If that was painful, what would a lifetime be like?

It’s Brandon’s fault. He’s put all this crap in your head. Ignore it and go.

Just go.

Two hours later, Brandon sat alone in his living room with Jasmine purring on his lap, watching dumb things on TV he couldn’t have cared less about and picturing Justin with Alison. And it made him feel as if he wanted to hit something.

He’d really blown it this afternoon.

He shouldn’t have done it. He should have just left well enough alone instead of barging into Alison’s condo and telling her what she was supposed to think and how she was supposed to feel. It wasn’t his business. It wasn’t Heather’s either. The only thing that mattered was what Alison thought and felt, and she was fine with Justin.

But now…what if she dumped the guy because of what he’d said? Because truthfully, it was a dating jungle out there, and her luck up to now had been terrible. What if she broke up with Justin, and then she never met a man who was even half as good?

He’d be responsible for
that
.

Good Lord. He couldn’t win.

He hated that Tom was gone tonight. He’d finally talked Tracy into going out with him, so he definitely wouldn’t be home until dawn. On this night, when Brandon really could have used some kind of distraction, he was sitting there in that big old house by himself with nothing but bad TV, an intrusive Siamese cat, and his own irritating thoughts for company.

Then heard a knock. A very loud, very insistent knock.

He scooted Jasmine from his lap and went to the door. He looked out the peephole, and suddenly he felt a little breathless.

Alison? She was
here
?

Yeah, she was. But, boy, did she look pissed.

He opened the door, and she blew into the house like the Hurricane Alison of old. She spun around. “Well, Brandon. It looks as if you’ve blown it again.”

“Huh?”

“I know, I know,” she said, rolling her eyes. “You’re sick and tired of me telling you that you screwed up. But to be fair, this time you admitted it first.”

“What are you talking about?”

“You were right. Justin’s a bore. What were you thinking when you set me up with him? At this rate, I’m going to be a hundred and twelve before I finally get married!”

“Wait a minute. I don’t get this.”

“What’s not to get? I broke up with him.”

“You did?”

“Yes. What else could I do?”

“Hold on. Didn’t you tell me—”

“We were about an hour down the road, and he started talking about how the beds at the hotel had Posturepedic mattresses and hypoallergenic linens. And I thought, hot damn, I’ll wake up with a spine in perfect alignment and not a sneeze in sight. But will he throw me on that Posturepedic bed and ravish me? Not likely.”

Brandon just stood there in disbelief. Was this the woman who had defended Justin not two hours ago?

“And he made sure I knew the hotel has no bedbugs,” she went on. “And how did he know that? Because he went to bedbugregistry dot com and checked it out.”

Brandon winced. “There’s an actual bedbug registry?”

“Yes, but only incredibly anal people know about it. And is it romantic to talk about it? No, it is
not
. And get this. We pulled into a truck stop for gas. There was a rack with bumper stickers. I pointed at one and laughed.
Keep honking. I’m reloading.
He didn’t get it. He lives in Texas, where guns outnumber people, and he didn’t get it. You set me up with a man with zero sense of humor. Why did you
do
that?”

“But I
tried
to tell you—”

“So I guess you’d better find me another match. And this time, could you at least try to get it right?”

“I have been trying! But for some reason—”

“You call that
trying
? I mean, it’s not as if Justin is a felon like Greg, but—oh, wait. Yes, he is. He committed third-degree
boredom
.”

“Alison—”

She held up her palm. “Is it really that hard?” she said, her voice softer now. “Really?”

Brandon lifted his shoulders helplessly.

“After all, I think I’ve shown you quite clearly what I want.”

“I know, but—”

“Sometimes I think the right man could be standing right in front of me,” she said, her voice strangely quiet now, “and you’d never even know it.”

“Come on, now. That’s not fair. I’ve been really good at this with other clients. Just because I can’t seem to get it right with you doesn’t mean—”