Operation Valentine (4 page)

Someone with high moral standards and family values.

Where could she go to find a man with such a specific set of criteria?

She closed her eyes as the answer presented itself. Whipping her phone out of her pocket, she typed a text message addressed to both her friends.

All right. Operation Valentine. I'm in. When can we get started?

The beauty of owning The Blue Saloon was that Owen could pick his own hours. Most weeknights, he liked to go home early enough to spend time with his daughter – make sure she did her homework, find out how her day went and, God forbid, discuss her upcoming puberty-related shopping excursions. However, this particular Friday, just as he finished the handover to his night shift manager, Sarah Dubert walked in.

She was wearing a dark green, sleeveless dress that was cut for business, which hinted that she had come straight from work. It was neither too short nor too snug, but its understated suggestiveness was like an unspoken challenge to every man in the room.

Not that he intended to answer that call, as tempting as it may be. He waited for her to approach the bar, but instead she went straight for a table by the window. The expression on her face suggested she was preoccupied, like she was there to work, not play. As if to add proof to the pudding, she took an iPad from her handbag and immediately became absorbed in whatever was on the screen. Head bent low, her fingers played with a few strands of hair that had come away from the loose knot at the back of her head. Her thin-rimmed metal glasses, which she hadn't been wearing yesterday, lent an air of seriousness to her project. He eyed her in mild amusement.

What was she doing?

Online shopping?

Watching Foxtel?

Reading
Fifty Shades of Grey
?

Whatever it was, it certainly took her complete and undivided attention.

She clearly didn't notice the three men on the couches who had simultaneously lowered their beers to eye her.

He frowned.

Now was probably as good a time as any to give her back her jewellery box. Though, from the looks of her, she hadn't even missed it. Reaching under the bar, he retrieved the silver-plated item from where he had placed it yesterday for safe keeping. He smiled at the sight of it.

This is going to be fun.

He went over to her table and sat down opposite her. She didn't even look up before saying, ‘So glad you're finally here,' as she tapped wildly on her screen. ‘I'm nearly finished. This questionnaire has taken me ages. But only a couple more questions to go before my profile is done. Then we can start going through potentials.'

‘Potentials? Potential what?' he asked bemused.

She gasped at the sound of his voice and looked up in horror. He used her stupor to lean forward slightly and read the webpage she was looking at.

‘Soulmates.com. “A pathway to your happily ever after.”
What the hell
?'

She hastily switched off the screen. ‘What are you doing here?'

‘This is my bar.'

‘I mean, at my table.' She frowned. ‘I'm not looking for company.'

‘Well then you shouldn't sit by yourself.'

‘Didn't we establish yesterday that I'm not your type?'

‘Completely and absolutely,' he said with a firm no-nonsense inflection in his voice.

‘Then what do you want?'

‘I think I have something that belongs to you.' He lifted her box from his lap and placed it on the table between them.

Colour spread through her face like pink dye tipped into fairy floss. ‘How did you get that?'

He tilted his head at her. ‘I think you must have left it on the bar yesterday when you were emptying your handbag.'

‘Oh.' She licked her lips and his eyes were immediately drawn to her tongue. ‘I suppose I must have.' She drew the box self-consciously towards her, opened her giant handbag and flicked it in.

‘It's a very pretty box,' he murmured casually. ‘Very expensive looking. Is it real silver?'

With a groan, she looked up. ‘You opened it, didn't you?'

‘Well of course I opened it.' He grinned. ‘Who doesn't open a box like that? The Hope Diamond could be in there.'

‘Okay, yes the box is expensive.' She lifted her chin. ‘It's even one of a kind, actually. My ex-boyfriend, Travis, gave it to me for my birthday. He said it was a symbol of our love.' Her expression clouded. ‘Then a couple months later he dumped me to be with the woman he'd been seeing behind my back.'

‘Ouch.'

She gave a deep sigh. ‘Yep, he was a bastard. But I couldn't throw away the box.'

‘Why not?'

‘Come on, you said it yourself, it's too expensive. Besides the fact that it's got my name engraved on it so …'

‘So …?'

She lifted her chin. ‘I did the only thing I could think of.'

‘You put your tampons in it.'

She shrugged. ‘It seemed fitting.'

‘Hold a grudge much?' He laughed.

‘Well, now that you've completely embarrassed me,' she looked back at her iPad, ‘don't you have something better to do?'

‘I'll stay till your friend gets here.' He glanced sternly at the men on the couch behind her, who immediately resumed drinking and looked away.

Her eyes flicked up from her screen again. ‘But I don't want you to.'

‘Why not?'

‘Because I'm trying to do something very important here and I don't want to be distracted.'

‘Filling out an online dating profile?' He squinted at her. ‘Honey, if you want to get picked up there're three guys behind you who would be happy to volunteer.'

She rolled her eyes. ‘I told you yesterday, I'm not looking for a fling. I'm going to fall in love. This is the real deal. Besides,' her finger flicked across the screen, ‘I have very strict selection criteria.'

He raised his eyebrows. ‘Really?' He didn't quite know why but he was finding this conversation fascinating. Perhaps it was her no-holds-barred honesty. The girl didn't bother with guile. She was who she was and didn't pretend to be anybody else.

‘Well.' She ticked off her fingers. ‘Intelligent, kind-hearted, high moral standards, has good family values, and some mining knowledge would be preferable.'

‘Mining knowledge?' he choked.

She squared her shoulders. ‘What's wrong with that?'

‘Just a little odd, that's all.'

‘I'll have you know, mining is the backbone of our economy.'

‘Yes, I'm aware. What I didn't know was that it was also the backbone to a relationship. Guess I'm out then.'

‘No offence,' she lowered her voice while pinching thumb and forefinger together, ‘but you were never in.'

He grinned. ‘Yes, I received that message loud and clear.'

At that point her phone started ringing and she dived into her handbag and drew it out. ‘Amy! Where are you?'

Her hopeful expression faded as her friend obviously made excuses. ‘Oh no. So you're not coming?
At all?
But you know how important this is, right? I'm running out of time. We've got a six-week deadline, remember? Oh … okay.' She paused. ‘Fine. I'll catch you tomorrow. Bye.'

She hung up, dejectedly putting her phone back in her bag.

‘What's happening in six weeks?'

She shook her head. ‘I'm not telling you.'

‘Why?'

‘You'll just laugh at me.'

‘Honey, I'm already laughing at you.'

She considered this. ‘Okay, fine, if you must know, it's Valentine's Day. I need to have a date for it.'

‘You're kidding me, right?'

She sighed. ‘I wish I were.'

‘You're afraid you might miss out on flowers and chocolate this year?'

‘
No
.' She glared at him. ‘I'm not that shallow.'

‘Pity,' he mused. ‘I am.'

‘Urgh.' She closed her eyes and threw back her head, sucking in a deep breath as though finding her centre. He was left with a rather lovely view of her throat and just for a second he imagined kissing a path from her collarbone to her earlobe … before he mentally slapped himself and dropped his eyes.

Don't go there. You'll regret it.

‘Okay then.' He forced himself to speak. ‘So why do you need a date for Valentine's Day?'

She sat back up. ‘I have a lot of reasons.' He watched her withdraw wistfully into her own thoughts for a moment before she said softly, ‘Apart from falling in love, I need to break a curse and save my career.'

Normally this was exactly the kind of female he avoided, but her dreamy voice made him smile. ‘Sounds exhausting.'

She shrugged. ‘What about you? Do you have a date for Valentine's Day?'

‘Thinking I might be able to help you out?'

‘No.' She immediately coloured up. ‘I was just curious that's all, making conversation –'

‘Take a breath,' he assured her. ‘I was just teasing. The truth is, I don't do holidays. Valentine's Day, Christmas, Easter, New Year's, et cetera. As far as I'm concerned those are commitment days. And I don't want to give any woman the wrong idea.'

‘Look at you.' She widened her eyes in feigned admiration. ‘What a stand-up guy.'

He grinned.

‘Now as much as I've enjoyed our conversation,' she rolled her eyes to refute the claim, ‘can you give me some space? I need to go through my potentials.'

But he didn't wish to be excused yet – he was enjoying this conversation far too much. There was something about this woman that just lit up the room, and he wanted to stay by her side a little longer to bask in the glow. As she turned her iPad back towards her he said, perhaps a little unwisely, ‘Maybe I could help you with that. I mean, since your friend isn't coming.'

‘How could
you
help me?'

‘I'm an unbiased third party. My opinion is valuable.'

She snorted. ‘You wouldn't know the first thing about a long-term relationship.'

‘Yes I would. I was married once.'

An awkward silence fell between them.

Why did you her tell that?

You don't tell anyone that.

Damn it, Owen, keep your bloody mouth shut.

‘Oh.' Her mouth formed a delicate circle as her eyes flicked towards his ring-free hands. ‘But not anymore.'

‘No,' he said curtly. ‘She … she left me.'

‘I'm sorry.'

‘Don't be.'

‘You probably think I'm naïve,' she muttered, ‘but I do believe in happily ever afters. For everyone.'

He raised his eyebrows. ‘Everyone?'

‘I know relationships can be hard. Believe me, I know.' She nodded. ‘But I have to have faith that there is a person out there for you. Someone to share life's joys and tribulations with. Maybe I'm too idealistic.'

‘Maybe,' he agreed, and then prayed with real sincerity that some bastard from the Internet didn't break her heart or scar her for life.

His gaze fell back to her iPad. She had finished her profile and was now scrolling through matches. ‘So these are the potentials? They don't look half bad.'

She forgot her initial reluctance to accept his help and glanced up hopefully. ‘Really?'

‘No, I'm pulling your leg.'

‘Be serious.' She turned the iPad around. ‘What about this one? He's an architect. He loves Thai food and windsurfing.'

He shook his head at the cheesy photograph beside the profile. ‘Trying too hard.'

‘And this one?'

‘He's a soldier.'

‘Hence the great body,' she said brightly.

‘But he'll be away a lot and could potentially die.'

‘Okay, fussy. What about this Earnest Bentton?'

‘Don't like his name.'

‘Sam Hardgrave?'

‘Too old.'

They argued over a few more until she finally said crossly, ‘Okay. Obviously you're not going to approve of any of my choices, so you pick one.'

He scrolled down. She had fifty-three matches. There had to be one decent guy in there somewhere, surely.

‘Aha!'

‘You found someone.'

‘Tom Beresford. A thirty-year-old accountant from South Perth. Loves animals, hiking and old movies. Looking for a young, independent woman who knows what she wants.'

‘Hmmm.' Sarah glanced at his photo.

‘Okay, so he's not Brad Pitt, but he's not ugly.'

‘No,' Sarah agreed reluctantly, ‘I guess he looks all right. His eyes are nice.'

‘Forget his eyes,' Owen scoffed, ‘this guy is the real deal.'

‘You got all that from his three-sentence teaser profile?'

‘Well, he's thirty, so he's done his dash with women. He's played the field and he's ready to settle down.'

Her brow furrowed. ‘Hang on a minute, how old are you?'

‘I'm thirty-five, but I'm not a good example.'

She blew her fringe. ‘Tell me about it. All right, go on.'

‘He's an accountant. So he's got money and probably has some savings – property or assets.'

‘Money isn't that big a draw card for me.'

‘Really?' His mouth twisted. ‘That's refreshing. Anyway,' he looked down at the page again, ‘he loves animals, so he'll probably want kids some day, and the old movies thing, that's shorthand for good, solid, traditional values.'

She squinted. ‘Are you sure about this?'

‘As sure as I can be without meeting the guy. Besides, doesn't the last line just draw your attention? He wants a young, independent woman who knows what she wants.'

She looked worried. ‘Do I know what I want?'

He raised his eyebrows. ‘A date for Valentine's Day?'

She shook her head as though clearing cobwebs. ‘Oh yeah, of course. So you think I should contact Tom?'

He took a breath and then, surprisingly, the question made him pause. He had picked this guy, so why was he hesitating? He didn't want to date her himself, so why shouldn't he pass her on? Suddenly the game wasn't quite as fun now that it was real. Thankfully, he was saved from responding by another phone call. This time it was his own phone that was buzzing.