Manila Marriage App (9 page)

I tossed my blonde
tresses over my shoulders and declined. I still didn't know what Timothy had meant when he'd said I was “way too…” that first day. We needed to delve deep into that wretched marriage application discussion. I hoped he didn't genuinely believe we were going to wed. Nah, uh. No way, not gonna happen. I had to set him straight. I was starting to feel bad about my small deception. It wasn't fair of me to lead him on. I perched on an office chair and chose a non-volatile subject. “Timothy, may I ask you a question?”

His forehead furrowed. “Uh, sure. Ask away.”

“OK, but I warn you, this is very important, and I'll not sleep tonight until I have the answer.”

His gaze bounced around the room seeking an escape route. “OK…”

Men were so much fun to tease.

“Did you know you have a spotted lizard living in your bedroom?”

His face smoothed back into shape, his relief palpable. “Ah. I see you've met George.”

“He has a name?”

“Of course. His girlfriend, Martha, lives in the kitchen.”

I couldn't help it. I cracked up. “He has a girlfriend? Good to know. George and Martha. You are ever the historian, aren't you?”

He lifted one shoulder in a shrug.

“I think I've seen Martha scurry up the wall in the middle of the night.” I said with a laugh. “I assume they're friendly.”

“Absolutely. In fact, they earn their keep. House lizards prey on flies, spiders, and other pesky critters.”

Anything that decreased the spider population was all right in my book. “So what? You just let them wander around the house unchecked? What if I open a flatware drawer and find one staring up at me.”

“Stare back.”

“Cute.”

“Ready to go?” He escorted me out of the Faculty and Student Center.

I wasn't watching where I was going—OK, I was enjoying the view that was Timothy—when I bumped into a tall, lanky guy standing in my way.

“Hey there, sweetie.”

What was Blaine, the ex-boyfriend who'd deserted me, doing here?

 

 

 

 

11

 

Blaine moved toward me with arms open wide.

I was so startled I jumped sideways, my back banging right into Timothy's front. Gripping my shoulders to keep me from falling, he pulled me to his chest. This time his touch didn't feel brotherly. Far from it. The way his arms slipped around my waist was downright possessive. And I thought my head was woozy last night!

After I found my voice, I croaked out, “Blaine. What in the name of heaven are you doing here?” With reluctance, I untangled myself from Timothy's embrace and ventured a glimpse in his direction.

He was scowling at Blaine, teeth clenched, nostrils flaring. Didn't that flaring thing only happen in the movies? Before Blaine had a chance to utter another word, Timothy unhinged that chiseled jaw. “And you would be?”

“Blaine Bryant. Shay's boyfriend.” He held out his hand.

Timothy ignored it with obvious disdain.

Before Timothy could misunderstand, I leapt into the conversation. “Hold on, buddy. You mean you
used
to be my boyfriend. In case you've forgotten, we've been over for close to a year.”

Timothy's stiff expression relaxed.

Blaine's eyes dimmed and his chin jutted out. Even he couldn't help but notice the icy cloud forming around the three of us. Throwing Timothy a surly frown, he turned to me. “Hey, I winged halfway around the planet to find you. I want to talk to my girl, and nothing's going to stop me.” Slouching, he gestured to a nearby bench.

“Blaine, let me say it one more time. I am no longer your girl. If you will deign to remember, you left me. Something in relation to landing your dream job in Chicago—without telling me you were even considering interviewing for a new job, I might add—thus leaving me high and dry.”

“But honey…”

My lips curled as I glared at him.

Timothy squared his shoulders and stepped forward. “Dwayne, was it? I believe the lady made it clear she didn't want to talk to you. It's time for you to leave now.”

Blaine didn't bother to acknowledge him and kept right on talking. “Aw, come on, Shay. Need I mention it again? Ten thousand miles? I'm not setting foot on a plane for home without saying my piece.”

He had spent a good chunk of money to come see me, and although the costs were mere pocket change to him and his wealthy family, and even though I surely didn't owe him anything, I'd let him have his say. I rested my hand on Timothy's strong arm and squeezed. “It's OK. I'll talk to him.”

His gaze shot daggers at Blaine, but his expression softened when he looked at me. “I'll be within earshot.” He backed away and disappeared through the trees.

Whirling back to Blaine, I sauntered up the short path to the bench, parked myself, crossed my ankles, and laced my fingers. My favorite former fantasy come to life. How often had I imagined a contrite Blaine crawling back to me on his knees, maybe lying at my feet in shame? OK, today he wasn't exactly prostrate.

Blaine followed and sprawled next to me on the bench. He wasn't used to being in the beta male position, but he was also a great actor. He'd been the lead in several college productions and had transferred those skills to his high-powered sales job. I doubted he was as bothered as he wanted me to believe.

Raising my eyebrows to the sky, I twisted in my seat. “By the way, how did you find me, and who let you in here? We have tight security.”

I couldn't envision him getting past Bayani. I couldn't picture an errant flea getting past that man.

“Brianna mentioned your new boyfriend's name and made reference to Manila. It didn't take much sleuthing to locate the seminary, and from there it was easy. I hopped on a plane, gave the taxi driver your address, and some nice little guy showed up at the front gate when I mentioned your name.” Blaine bumped my shoulder and smirked. “I told him I was your brother, and he sent me here. Yep, easy as a Sunday morning.”

That “nice little guy” had to be Danilo, and I was sure he believed he was doing a good thing. “You told him you were my brother, huh? Devious, but then, I'd expect such behavior from you. OK, so what's so important you had to track me down?”

“When Brianna told me you were getting married, it hit me what a wonderful thing we'd had.” Blaine tried to take my hand, but I jerked it away.

“Wonderful thing? What wonderful thing did we have? We were never a real couple. A couple would have discussed your potential move. A couple would have hashed out what was best for both of us. You led me on and dropped me like a greased watermelon when something better came along.” The pang of regret I expected never came.

“Do you want me to tell you I was wrong? Women love that, right? OK, I'm sorry. Maybe, I'm beginning to realize what I lost, and I want you back. You can't tell me you're going to marry the male equivalent of Mother Teresa, are you? When Brianna called me, I figured you might be scheming to get me back. Maybe you wanted to let me know you were tired of waiting for me.”

Brianna was in big trouble.

Sputtering with indignation, I sucked in a deep breath and tried not to grind my molars. “A ploy to get you…you've got to be kidding. And I'll marry whomever I want, whenever I want.”

Darn Brianna! She'd never been fond of Blaine, so what was she doing? Some sort of crazy stunt she'd read somewhere?

Blaine was staring into space someplace above my right ear.

I skewered him with a glance. “Sorry to disappoint you, but I'm over you. Really. Done.
Finite
.”

Never before had I been able to say those words. The man I used to love, or thought I'd loved, had no hold over me. The qualities that had attracted me were no longer appealing. Compared to Timothy, Blaine was narrow-minded, superficial, and a touch smarmy. What had I ever seen in the guy?

Duly chastised—or at least pretending to be—Blaine hung his head, and peered at me from under long male lashes. “OK, the woman scorned is carrying a powerful grudge. I get it.” I could see his wheels spinning, wondering if he could ply me with sweet talk. “I guess I didn't tell you how pretty you are often enough.” He stared at me again, gauging my reaction. “I can work on it.”

I'd have to hand it to him. He was giving it his best shot.

“And I love the blonde hair. You look even better than I remember.”

Great. Blaine preferred me as a blonde. “Thanks, Blaine, but all you ever noticed was my appearance. That's not enough for me.”

He edged a smidgen closer and reached for me, his sharp-edged watch grazing my cheek.

I yelped.

Before I could push him away, Timothy materialized out of nowhere. Quicker than a nanosecond, he yanked Blaine off me, threw him to the ground, and pinned him with an arm lock. Whoa! Where did the missionary man learn that?

Blaine howled.

Timothy held him down for a few seconds and then let the poor man go.

Brushing off the leaves clinging to his jeans, Blaine hauled himself onto the bench. He glowered at Timothy, but apparently realizing he'd been bested, he surrendered with uncharacteristic charity. “Nice move. Jiu-Jitsu?”

“Yeah. It's a Brazilian move. Learned it at university.”

Would wonders never cease?

 

 

 

 

12

 

Blaine lurched to his feet. “No sense in my hanging around here then. What a shame, though, I don't get to check out this fascinating country.”

Did this man never quit? Now he wanted a tour guide?

Timothy pursed his lips as if he were contemplating Blaine's broad hint. “That does seem a shame, doesn't it? All that time to get here, all that money spent, merely to return home empty handed.” Timothy tapped his chin. “Here's an idea. Where are you staying?”

Where was Blaine staying? What did it matter?

“At the Hilton back in the city, why?”

“Shay and I were just heading out to lunch. Why don't you join us and, in the meantime, I'll see if I can rustle up a guide for you.”

What was this? Now they were best buds? I'd never understand men. I must have made some form of incredulous snuffling sound.

Timothy swung back to me. He coughed and winked at me behind his hand.

We scaled the wicked stairs to Timothy's car.

Blaine stopped half way up to catch his breath.

What restaurant would Timothy choose for lunch? Somewhere expensive to show up Blaine? Were we going to have a one-upmanship display? I needn't have worried.

Fifteen minutes later, we pulled into a chicken restaurant parking lot.

Good. I'd only have to suffer a quick lunch, and then Blaine would be gone.

Timothy had some kind of a plan, though. After we seated ourselves in the humble fast food joint, Timothy reached into his pocket for his phone and excused himself. He mouthed the word “Danilo” as he moved to a quieter, more private part of the restaurant. After a short time, Timothy returned and addressed Blaine. “You're in luck. I found someone willing to help you with your unfortunate predicament. He has a great deal of experience conducting tours and, as luck would have it, he's available for the next few days.”

Blaine's face brightened. “Terrific. How much does he charge?”

“One hundred dollars a day, plus gas money. A bargain. Here's the deal. Shay and I are going to drive you back to your hotel, and he'll pick you up in an hour. Work for you?”

Blaine licked a spot of chicken grease off the back of his hand.

I handed him a napkin. “I suppose…what's the guy's name?”

“Danilo Reyes.”

“The little guy who gave me directions to your office? I don't suppose you know a sexy female tour guide?” Blaine was sitting across the table from me, and he reached over and gripped my hand.

I slapped his wrist.

“OK, I'll settle for Danilo. Shay? You sure there's nothing I can say to change your mind?” He drew an airplane ticket out of his back pocket and held it out to me. “Take it in case you reconsider.”

“No. Give it up.”

Timothy heaved a quiet sigh. I'd pleased him.

Blaine leaned back in his chair and shoved the ticket back in his pocket. “So, when's the wedding? Am I invited?”

Timothy and I swiveled to stare at each other. His gaze screamed hopefulness, and sadly, I'm sure my face whispered guilt and remorse. His gaze flitted away from me and hit the floor. I would have to talk to him—and soon. This wasn't right.

I changed the subject. With Blaine horning in, now was not the time for a meaningful conversation. “Why don't we drop you back at the Hilton so you can start your sightseeing? Don't want to be late.” I stood up, marched to the trashcan, and tossed the remains of my lunch. “You guys coming?”

Blaine took his time chewing the last shreds of his chicken strip, and guzzled his soda.

Timothy, already on his feet, raised a brow in Blaine's direction. Perhaps Blaine's painful memory of hitting the ground with a thud sprang to mind, because with one last gulp from his drink, we were off.

When we rolled up to the hotel curb to drop him off, my burden lifted.

Blaine reached up front to where I was sitting and stroked my cheek with the palm of his hand. “It could have been good, Shay. Call me if this bozo doesn't treat you right.”

I would have figured Blaine's unwelcome touch would have fired up Timothy, but instead, he calmly shoved Blaine away, and placed a hand on my knee. Game, set, match. The boys shook hands, and Blaine left without a backward glance. Phew!

Timothy wheeled away from the curb and reversed direction. “Want to go shopping now?” He was doing it again—avoiding the subject looming over us like a gigantic giraffe.

“OK. Shopping it is.” I'd give him today, but tonight, we'd have the marriage talk if I had to sit on him.