Set Up in SoHo (The Matchmaker Chronicles) (14 page)

“Over here.” Bethany waved from the milk bar as I pushed my way through the crowd. “Sorry to make this a rush job, but I’ve got an appointment in an hour. A couple from Texas. I don’t know how in the world I’m going to find them something. I mean, they’re used to four bedrooms in the suburbs with a laundry room and a pool. I’m showing them four
rooms
without a view and three tiny closets. I’m afraid it’s all going to be a bit overwhelming.”

“They’ll be fine,” I said, as we grabbed a table from a couple of tourists. “This is Manhattan, after all. People don’t expect to find palaces.”

“I don’t know, everything is big in Texas.”

“So they’ll adjust.” I shrugged with a smile. “Although honestly, I wouldn’t want your job. Cranky people on limited budgets looking for the perfect apartment. I’m not sure the animal even exists.”

“Well, you did pretty well for yourself.”

“Pure luck.”

“And a friend with an inside track.” Did I mention Bethany found my apartment and showed it to me three days before it was actually listed?

“Yes, well, there is that. Anyway, all I’m saying is that even with the best agent, apartment hunting in Manhattan isn’t exactly a euphoria-promoting event.”

“Well, as clients go, I’ve certainly had worse. And I’m sure I’ll find them something,” she said, sliding into the chair across from me. “But we’re not here to talk about the Jacksons.” She waggled her eyebrows for effect. “Going out with Ethan clearly agrees with you. You’re looking loads better.”

“I’m definitely on the mend,” I said, self-consciously tucking my hair behind my ear.

“You really were lucky. It could have been so much worse.”

“Physically, yes. Although from a psychological point of view I think I might have hit it out of the proverbial ballpark.”

“Well, at least the paparazzi weren’t there. And there hasn’t been anything more in the papers.”

“Yes,” I nodded, sipping my tea, “thankfully, they’ve moved on to a new celebutard.”

“You’re hardly in that category,” she said with a shake of her head.

“No. I suppose not. But I definitely gave it my best shot with my fall from grace, as it were.”

“Old news. I want to hear about your dinner. I can’t believe you ran into Diana and Dillon.”

“Actually, it was pretty unbelievable. I mean, we always joke about it being a small city, but what are the odds that we’d actually wind up in the same restaurant? Especially Nino’s. Dillon hates it.”

“Apparently, not as much as you thought.”

“He’s just kowtowing to Diana.”

“So was it horribly uncomfortable?”

“Awful. At least until Ethan arrived. Although I think I managed to hold my own.”

“And Dillon? How did he deal?”

“He looked pretty miserable, actually. At least until the two of them were alone.” I closed my eyes, trying to banish the picture of him laughing and holding her hand. “But he did call to apologize.

“You actually talked to him?”

“No. I couldn’t deal. But I listened to the message. And I’ve got to admit, it did make me feel a little better about the whole thing. Although I still can’t understand what he sees in her.”

“Nothing she doesn’t want him to,” Bethany said. “She’s got him bewitched, but sooner or later he’s going to wake up and realize just what he’s done. Only you won’t be there to pick up the pieces.”

“I suppose not.”

“You suppose not?” Bethany said, narrowing her eyes. “Come on. You know not. I mean, now you’ve got Ethan.”

“I’ve only been on one date with him. And I shared practically forever with Dillon. It’s not that easy to let go. Even knowing that I should. I think there’ll always be a part of me that wants him back.”

“I suppose that’s understandable.” She shrugged, taking a careful sip of her coffee. “Did Diana say anything about Mardi Gras?”

“Just that she saw the show. But if looks could kill . . .”

“Score one for you.” Bethany smiled, then frowned again. “Which reminds me, I think I might have put my foot in it. Have you told Althea about Ethan?”

A shiver of dread traced its way down my spine. “Just the stuff from the night of my fall. Why?”

“Don’t kill me.” She scrunched her nose and I sighed.

“What did you tell her?”

“Just that you went out with him. She was talking about your weekend. And I just assumed you’d mentioned it. Anyway, I kept the details spare. I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have said anything, I know. But I couldn’t seem to help myself.”

“Don’t worry about it. Althea is good at extracting information. And besides, if you hadn’t told her somebody else would have. So when did you talk to her?” Considering I hadn’t heard a word, I suspected it had to have been recently. Althea wasn’t one to hold on to news.

“This morning. I was checking in about Michael.”

“I thought this wasn’t supposed to be a ‘real’ match?”

“It isn’t. But you know Althea, she likes to stay involved."

"That’s an understatement. But I guess if you don’t mind . . .” I shrugged, wondering why Bethany’s alliance with Althea bothered me so much.

“I don’t. Really. In fact, she’s actually had some good advice. This whole thing has been moving really fast. And you know that my mom isn’t the type to offer support.” Bethany’s mom wasn’t the type to be a mother—period. It’s one of the many things we had in common. “I just need the reality check. And Althea’s been there. Besides, she really knows Michael.”

“It’s her job. And don’t forget she’s going to be predisposed toward making it work. She’s competitive as hell, and even if this one’s off the books, she’ll still want to mark it off as a success. Which means keeping the two of you together.”

“Which is exactly what I want.”

“Good, then there’s not a problem. But if that changes, remember that Althea’s going to stick with Michael. It’s just part of the game for her.”

“You make it sound so cut-and-dried. It’s a relationship, not a business merger.”

“To Althea they’re one and the same. So all I’m saying is take her advice with a grain of salt. Anyway, I’m just glad to see you so happy.”

“You, too,” Bethany said with a nod. “Every time I’ve mentioned Ethan’s name you grin like an idiot. Have you heard from him since the date?”

“Just a quick call. But he sent flowers.”

“Really? That’s so wonderfully old-fashioned. I love it.”

“It was sweet. But I’m trying not to build it up too much.”

“You got flowers. When’s the last time Dillon did that?”

“He sends them on Valentine’s Day—usually.” I shrugged. “Anyway, there’s no point in comparing. Ethan isn’t like anyone I’ve ever met.”

“I knew it,” Bethany said, flashing a triumphant smile. “You’re falling for him. So when are you going out again?”

“I don’t know. He said something about this weekend. But I’ve got your party.”

“You haven’t asked him? I just assumed you would.”

“It’s all so new. And this is supposed to be about you and Michael. Introducing him to your friends.”

“Well, if Ethan is going to be a part of your life, then he should be there.”

“Oh, come on. Aren’t you jumping the gun a little?”

“Oh, please, it’s not like you haven’t leapt into relationships before. You and Dillon slept together after your first date. And as I remember it, he was practically moving in by date three or four.”

“You’re exaggerating. He never actually moved in at all. We just shared space now and then. And besides, look how that turned out. Maybe if I’d been more cautious I wouldn’t have ended up getting dumped for Diana Merreck.”

“I still can’t believe it, really.”

“That makes two of us. Anyway, the point is that considering all that’s happened, I think the last thing I should be doing is jumping blindly into another relationship.”

“Asking Ethan to my dinner party is not jumping into a relationship. It’s just a date. And a safe one at that. You’ll be surrounded by friends. Besides, he sent you flowers. That’s got to count for something.”

“I suppose.” I ducked my head, remembering the crazy way I felt after he kissed me. “It’s just that everything is so complicated. I haven’t even had time to deal with the situation with Dillon. Surely I need some kind of mourning period.”

“Life doesn’t wait around for us to be ready, Andi. Sometimes you’ve just got to take advantage of what’s offered when it comes. Even if the timing isn’t perfect. Otherwise the opportunity will just pass you by. And you know as well as I do that there aren’t that many chances when it comes to finding the right man in this town.”

“Well, when you say it like that. . . but still, it could be a huge mistake. I mean, what do I know about him, really? He grew up in the city, but left to help run his family’s business when his father had a heart attack. He’s only just come back, and lives in a borrowed apartment on the Upper East Side. Come to think of it, I really don’t know anything substantive about him.”

“Except that he’s got a chivalrous streak,” Bethany said. “I mean, he’s saved you what, like three times now?”

“That’s hardly enough to recommend him. For all we know he could be a serial killer.”

“Oh, please.” Bethany lifted her hands in protest. “I hardly think that’s likely.”

“Ted Bundy was really charming.”

“Yeah, right,” she said with a snort. “Anyway, it’s easy enough to fill in the details. Surely you’ve Googled him?”

“I hadn’t even thought about it until now.” I should stop here and say that I have a complete and utter aversion to computers. Don’t know why exactly. They’re just not my thing. Everybody I know has text messaging and Facebook pages. And I can barely turn my phone on, let alone figure out how to type on the tiny little keypad.

I know. I know. I’m living in the dark ages. But hey, at least it proves I’m adept at not giving in to societal pressures. Or something like that. Anyway, Googling might as well have been Swahili for all it meant to me.

“I’m convinced you were born in the wrong century,” Bethany said. “I don’t know how you manage. Really.”

I opened my mouth to retort, but as if on call, said cell phone began to ring, the not-so-dulcet Latin tones eliciting a frown from the woman at the next table.

I shrugged and pulled it out of my purse, checking caller ID. “It’s him,” I mouthed, my stomach threatening to renege on the tea.

“So answer it, already,” Bethany said, waving at the still-jangling phone.

“Hello?” I said, flipping it open, the sounds of “Macarena” thankfully going silent.

“Andi?” Ethan’s deep voice sent familiar ripples of pleasure coursing through me. What can I say? I’m easy. “Am I interrupting anything?”

“No. I’m just sitting here having tea with Bethany.”

“Good. I was afraid I’d interrupt a taping or something. Anyway, I’ve only got a minute. I’m in between meetings, but I wanted to check in.” Checking in was good. Very very good.

“So did you accomplish great things?” I said, with complete lack of brilliance. What can I say, the man discombobulated me. “In your meetings, I mean.”

“Pretty much what I set out to do. Although I’m afraid there were casualties.”

“Sounds ominous,” I said. “And very
Sopranos
."

“No dead bodies,” he laughed. “But in order to maintain market share we had to take out a few competitors.”

“As in they’re now defunct?”

“For the most part.”

“So you actually destroyed someone’s company?” Put that way it sounded grim.

“More like took it over. It’s just business. And for the record, if it hadn’t been us, it would have been someone else. It’s a tough world out there. Anyway, I didn’t call to regale you with my business dealings. I just wanted to see if you were free for lunch tomorrow.”

“Lunch?”

“You know, the meal in the middle?” Again I could hear a hint of laughter.

“Yes, I’ve heard of it.”

“So are you free?”

“I can be. For you.” Okay, at least I was starting to sound more like myself.

“Excellent. How about the Shake Shack? You can bring Bentley. I assume you’re still trying to keep him out of Dillon’s hands?”

“I am. Although he hasn’t called since yesterday. And I had the locks changed. Still, it’s sweet of you to remember.”

“Well, Bentley and I are friends. Anyway, I’ve got to go, but I’ll see you guys at two?”

“Sounds like a plan. Bentley will be delighted.” I disconnected, a stupid smile plastered across my face. Apparently, my dog wasn’t the only one excited at the prospect of sharing fries with Ethan McCay.

“So?” Bethany asked.

“We’re having lunch tomorrow. At Shake Shack. With Bentley.”

“Kind of an interesting chaperone.”

“He was worried about Dillon trying to make off with him.”

“How sweet.”

“That’s what I said. Anyway, sounded like he was having an awful day.”

“So you said. Something about The Sopranos?”

“Apparently, he eliminated his competition. Some kind of leveraged takeover, I think.”

“Doesn’t sound like much fun. But then business rarely is. So are you excited?”

“I think so. It’s all happening so fast. And I still don’t really know anything about him.”

“That’s right. We were about to Google him.” Bethany tapped his name into her iPhone and waited as the machine searched the World Wide Web. “Oh my God.” She frowned down at the minuscule screen, her eyes widening as she read.

“That doesn’t sound good,” I said, leaning forward, suddenly very interested in modern technology and the knowledge it possessed. “What does it say?”

“That he works for Mathias Industries.”

“Oh my God.” I sounded like a bad echo. “You’re kidding.”

“Nope.” She turned the phone so that I could see. “Walter Mathias is his grandfather. Says so right here.” She tapped the screen for emphasis.

The Mathiases are old money with a capital “O.” They even had an ancestor who signed the Declaration of Independence, although I’ve forgotten which one. Considered Manhattan royalty, the family were the bluest of bluebloods. A dynasty in the truest sense of the word.

Family members sit on all the relevant boards, and scoring a Mathias to headline a fundraiser is the social equivalent of knocking one out of Yankee Stadium. The family name appears on practically everything in the city. Parks, libraries, and museums, not to mention the myriad of profitable businesses all housed under the umbrella of Mathias Industries.