Besides, she definitely wasn't the type to inspire such basic needs. Fiercely independent, physically distant, with a chilly demeanor that said "Back off, this is all business."
Getting involved with the owner of a matchmaking service was pure doom and stupidity.
Not. Interested.
The cackling voice rose up and mocked his thought, but he figured he'd drown it in alcohol and salt.
Just another Friday night.
His cell beeped. He scooped it up, checked ID, and clicked the button. "About time you called me back. Are you okay?"
The deep sigh on the other end held a twinge of irritation he'd never heard before. His overprotective instincts toward his baby sister overrode his instinct to back off. "Just because I don't check in with you on a daily basis doesn't mean I'm lying dead in the gutter. Mom."
He winced and tucked the phone under his chin. "Ha, ha. Look, cut me a break. You moved out of my house, quit your job, and signed up with a matchmaking agency within a month. I'm still trying to catch up."
"I know. But things are good. I love my new job, and I'm excited about my experience with Kinnections. The women there are so nice and approachable."
Kate's image flashed in his mind. More like sexy and frustrating. "You don't think they're a bunch of crazies stealing your money? You know, statistically, matchmakers gain no results and only offer an empty illusion. I surfed the net. Numbers never lie. Most of the marriages they arrange end up in divorce within three to five years."
Uh-oh. Her tone took on the higher pitch of a woman ready to lose it. "Enough with the statistics! Just because your marriage didn't work out, and your clients get divorced, doesn't mean I need to pay by being lonely."
The pain stirred, but he wrestled it back. Yes, he'd failed his marriage, just as his ex-wife had. But Jane didn't understand. How could she? He was the one who protected her from a bunch of crappy men who thought they could take advantage of her. The revolving door of brokenhearted individuals barely keeping their sanity was his daily reality. Jane's sweetness and fragile ego were prime targets of con men, and they'd already been through too many. He had to pay the last guy off to walk away. At least the asshole couldn't claim to be a starving artist anymore and hit up his sister for money.
"I don't want you to be lonely. I just don't want you to get hurt."
She sighed and her voice softened. "I'm sorry, Slade, that was a rotten thing for me to say. But I don't want you to chaperone me. If I get hurt, so be it. At least it will be on my terms. I won't hurt myself again."
The image of that night rose up and choked him with emotion. He'd almost lost her. He'd promised himself in that hospital room he wouldn't let her down again. Jane needed one person to count on, and by God, he'd spent the last years making sure she was protected. "I know. I'm proud of you."
"Thanks."
He dragged in a breath. Time to spill the truth. "In fact, I was so intrigued with the idea I actually paid them a visit. Decided to sign up myself for the experience."
His casual tone contradicted his unease. Put himself in the hands of Kate and her female crew? Meet a bunch of women he didn't know in the pursuit of some type of affair that wouldn't work out anyway?
Yes. He'd do it for Jane. To keep an eye on her and Kinnections.
Silence hummed over the line. "Are you kidding me? Why would you sign up with a matchmaking agency? You don't want to settle down!"
"Maybe I do. Maybe I'm looking for a companion to share my life with. If this place is as good as they say, I'll find someone, too. Hey, we can double date."
A strangled laugh echoed. "You are so screwed-up. I can't believe you'd really go through with this. The screening is intense. Are you getting a makeover?"
Hell no.
"We'll see. Did you get your first date yet?" he asked.
"Soon. Kennedy is taking me to the salon this weekend to freshen up my appearance. Then she gave me some guys to peruse online to get an idea of my taste."
The meat market atmosphere gave him the chills. Did people really do this shit just to get a date? For God's sake, why? "Hey, I'd appreciate it if you kept me in the loop. I'm a bit nervous about the whole thing. It'll help to know what you're going through, too."
Suspicion laced Jane's voice. "Kate will take good care of you."
An image of Kate on her knees unzipping his pants flashed before him. Sweat prickled his skin. What was wrong with him? "Maybe."
"When's your first date?"
"I'm getting a mixer next Friday night." He drained the beer dry. "Why don't you come?"
"What? Are you crazy? It's the first time you're meeting these women."
"Who cares? You can find out how Kinnections works, and I can get your opinion. Besides, I never see you anymore, and they're setting it up in Verily. It's out of my element. I've never seen so many weird pottery shops in my life. How many pots can one person own?"
She gave the familiar snort she had since childhood. "Nothing's out of your element, Slade. That's your problem."
"So, you'll come?"
"Sorry, I can't. I'm buried deep in research for my new article and won't surface for a week."
"Lunch this weekend, then? I'll give you the rundown on my experience."
"Sure. I'll take you to Mugs, they have great burgers."
"Fine. I'll see you at one on Saturday."
They exchanged good-byes and he terminated the call.
He was in perfect position now. Jane wouldn't be suspicious, and he'd be able to watch her and monitor the company.
He hit the remote on the chair and eased back another inch, trying to concentrate on Milton's speech regarding the moving of his desk, squirrels, and his precious red stapler. What made a woman decide to start a matchmaking business on her own? Was she just a savvy businesswoman looking to make a buck on a good sale? Or did it run much deeper? Her probing questions stirred a nest of emotions he had no interest in exploring.
The knowledge of love wasn't enough, would never be enough. There was pleasure, and enjoying the moment, and respect. Sometimes there was even friendship.
But not love. At least not long-term.
He thought about Kate and her own personal confession. The words rang in his mind like a mantra.
No man has ever wanted me enough to propose.
Her raw honesty touched something deep inside him. A part that ached to soothe the hurt and prove her wrong.
Yeah, a matchmaker and a divorce lawyer. That's got success written all over it.
His lips twisted into a smile. Probably the universe punishing him for his sudden craving to seduce her. Hell, he knew why he'd gotten into his career. To help guide the heartbreak and messiness of America's favorite pastime: screwing the ones they loved. He helped a few people and made a ton of money. Sure, he wasn't respected, and when he told people his career, they looked as if they'd gotten a piece of gum stuck on their sole. But who cared? No way was he messing up everything by chasing after a love do-gooder.
He was happy.
Life was perfect.
"ROBERT, I'M HOME!"
The scramble of feet on the ground filled her with a quiet joy. Her roommate, companion, and best friend appeared around the corner and headed straight for her.
Kate dropped to her knees and waited. His nonworking back legs didn't slow him down a bit as he scooted over the floor and stopped right before her. She touched her forehead to his smooth fur. The gentle lick to her face was the only sign of deep affection her dignified dog allowed himself to express. She petted his back and checked his bladder. Almost full. Another hour and the poor thing would've had a problem. "Sorry, baby, I was late. Stayed to eat with the girls. Let's go."
Kate reached for the scooter beside the door and hooked it up with an expert ease that made her proud of how far they'd come. Together. She ignored the leash and led him outside to the perfect patch of grass meant for him. The whip of the frosty air caused her to shiver, but Robert twitched his nose, took a deep doggy b
reath, and ran.
She laughed at his outright joy and freedom, the wheels of the cart spinning rapidly as he raced over the lawn to his favorite tree, and began to do laps round and round the gnarled trunk. A deep sense of peace settled over her. Her bungalow-type home might be small, and her yard less than half an acre, but she'd managed to create a home and a family she loved on her own terms.
Robert did his business with perfect restraint, hiding in his own private alcove. When she'd first met him, he'd been run over by a car and lifeless. She found him at the side of the road, a mangle of dead limbs and a hollow look in his eyes. Kate rushed him to the vet and was immediately advised to put him to sleep. No shelter would take him. No owner would want him. He was a pit bull--the worst dog for adoption. Surgery was possible but expensive. Better to let him go in a cold world that had no time for imperfect humans, let alone dogs.
She agreed and went in to say good-bye, to at least allow him to slip to the other side with a friend beside him. He must have been in wretched pain, but when Kate laid her hand on top of his head, he swiveled to look at her.
Brown eyes so full of regret. Maybe for the life he had. Maybe for the life he always dreamed of but didn't get. Human eyes, wise, accepting, and yet still full of kindness, though she knew his owner decided he was worthless and disposable.
I'm better than this fate. I'm worth something more.
The voice expressed from his eyes hit her hard. Kate knew in that moment he was her dog. Meant for her. A low hum of energy tingled her palm, as if she had met part of herself. And she turned to the vet and gave the order. "Save him. I don't care how much it costs or how you do it. I love him."
The vet's startled gaze changed to compassion and a determination to win. "Then I will."
It was a turning point for them both. Even though they were both damaged, they were worth loving. How many times had Kate cried herself to sleep, thinking of herself as a freak no one could love because she couldn't speak like everyone else? The torturous years in school, ashamed to read aloud, to say hello, to be teased mercilessly on the playground and bullied nonstop. But she'd risen above it all and made a success from her life. Just like Robert. The rest of the world could go to hell.
It took weeks for the healing, a ton of medical bills she guessed the vet helped her out with, and a wonderful charity that donated the scooter so Robert, now paraplegic, could learn to walk again without using his back legs. Kate learned to empty his full bladder when needed. She took him to physical therapy, learned new skills of how he could lead a full life, and hired someone to come in a few hours per day when she was at work.
She had regrets in her twenty-six years. She'd never traveled. She'd hung her head in shame for things that weren't her fault.
But never Robert. He was the only decision that made her proud.
He finished his run, and she undid the cart, giving him a quick kiss on his head. "I'm exhausted. I snuck out on the crew and I don't even care. Kennedy will be so pissed."
Robert's deep brown eyes gleamed with understanding. "Why don't we go to the dog park this Saturday and you can meet Arilyn's new rescue? I think you'll like him. He's got a long road to travel, like you did, but I think if he saw you he'd be more inspired to heal."
Robert cocked his head and nodded.
She headed toward the small galley kitchen painted red. "Cool. Meaty bone or chewy bacon strip?"
He barked twice. "Bacon it is." He politely tugged the strip from her fingers and wheeled off to his orthopedic mat to settle and treasure the treat.
She headed toward her pj drawer when the knock stopped her. Kate peeked through the window and flung open the door to see her best friend. "You missed Mugs."
Genevieve MacKenzie dragged herself over the threshold, still in her scrubs. "Extra shift. Forgot to eat. Help."
Kate shook her head and returned to the kitchen. Robert scurried from his mat to greet his second-favorite person, pushing his nose into her palm as Gen rubbed his head and gave him a kiss. "How's my favorite boy? Good day or bad day?"
Kate opened the refrigerator and pulled out a variety of lunch meats. "Good day. Bladder is emptying fine lately. No bedsores."
"That's my baby," Gen crooned, rubbing behind the ears. "I'm sorry I barged in before pj time."
"Don't be ridiculous, you live right down the road." Kate stacked ham, cheese, lettuce, tomato, and mayo on a big roll and set it on a plate. "Sit down and eat. What the hell are you doing to yourself lately, babe? You can't save the world if you collapse on me."
Her friend dropped onto the red stool and began shoving the food into her mouth. Kate grinned, poured her some water, dumped out a few chips, and slid onto the seat next to her.
"David sprang a research article on me to complete. We were supposed to be collaborators, but I discovered that means I do the work and he gets the publishing credit. Part of the resident torture."
An odd sensation settled over her as she studied her best friend. They'd met at NYU just like Arilyn and Ken, but when Gen moved down the road, they'd become like sisters. Kate adored Gen's big Italian family and always accompanied her to functions. They finished each other's sentences, liked the same things, and both had the same crazy ambition to succeed.
"Doesn't sound fair to me. You're pushing too hard."
Gen moaned around a bite. Her springy dark hair escaped her ponytail and curled wildly around her heart-shaped face. Navy blue eyes focused wholeheartedly on the meal in front of her, but Kate had also seen that gaze assess a medical emergency, soothe a scared child, and calm down a parent with the heart and soul of a true surgeon.
"So good. Will you make me coffee?"
"No, drink your water. You'll never sleep."
Gen gave a sulky pout but drank the full glass, then dove into the chips. "How was Mugs?"
"Good. We missed you. You never come out anymore. What's up?"
A strange expression flickered over her tired face. Gen studied her plate. "Just work. David's been telling me I need to focus more on my career and getting ahead. And he works such crazy shifts, we rarely get to see each other. I just need to cut back on some of my socializing for a little while."
David, aka Dr. McDreamy, was Gen's boss, drop-dead gorgeous, charming, and one of the top pediatric surgeons. He spent half of his time at Westchester Medical and the rest at Albany. Kate knew her friend crushed on him for years, like all the other interns, but this past year David finally noticed her. They started an affair but kept it from going public, and for a while Kate watched her friend glow with a deep-seated happiness.
But she was changing: withdrawing from regularly scheduled social get-togethers, working nonstop, and spending all of her free time at David's place. Kate tried to sort through the emotions, wondering if she was just envious of Gen's complete focus, or if she just missed her best friend. She shook off her thoughts and forced a smile.
"I understand. Just make sure you take some time to rest and have fun."
"Yes, Mom." Gen slumped on the seat, looking sated. "God, that was good. God, I love you."
Kate laughed and scooped up the plate. "At least someone does."
"Another bad date?"
"Yep. But I'm done, Gen. Look at this." She looked around at her bungalow which she loved, from the trendy red kitchen, to the open living room with massive wooden shelves holding her fave movies, music, and books. Gorgeous hardwood floors shone to a bright polish, and it was all cheerfully decorated in yellow and gray. The oversized bay window and seat looked over the tiny patch of lawn and the edge of the Hudson River. "I love my place. I love my job and Robert, and I'm happy. Every time I come home from a date I get depressed, so I'm taking a break. Maybe a year. I'll focus on growing Kinnections and enjoying myself."
Gen grabbed her hand and squeezed in sympathy. "Bad dates suck. But I believe you're meant to find that special person. Sure you don't want to use your own company to snag someone?"
Kate shook her head. "No, the lines are too blurred
as the owner. I'd rather use my energy on my clients. Especially the difficult ones." Slade's face drifted past and racked a tiny shudder. Maybe this was the key: focus on proving to Slade that Kinnections works and matching him up. Then she'd go back to her lackluster love life.
Gen slid out of the chair and kissed Robert good-bye. "What's that awful cliche stuff they always throw at women who are frustrated? You'll find love when you're not looking."
"I hope not. That theory puts me into bankruptcy."
Gen laughed and hugged her. "Thanks. I needed a little girl talk and food. Love you."
"Love you, too."
She shut the door behind Gen, turned the deadbolt, and immediately began to strip. She grabbed her favorite ratty flannels, which were faded and soft, and within seconds was curled up on her battered chair. Damn, she'd love one of those cool recliners with the heat and remotes. Maybe she'd treat herself next year for her birthday. Feet propped up on the scratched coffee table, she flipped through her DVR collection of recorded goodies. Robert settled in the pile of blankets next to her, already dozing.
She slipped over to comedies and found it immediately. Her fave. No matter how many times she watched Office Space, it always seemed funny. A sheer classic. She hit Play and settled back.
Yep. Everything would work out.
Perfectly.
five
SLADE WALKED INTO the small gym Verily boasted and headed toward the back room. He had no idea what to expect, but a good round of workouts was a great way to start a Sunday.
He made his way through an array of hand weights, bench presses, and treadmills, looking longingly out the window at the outside track. He'd much prefer a hard run, his favorite way to exercise, but Arilyn had a different idea.
Slade grudgingly admitted she didn't strike him as a used-car salesman. She probed with a pure intention, her melodic voice as graceful as her hip-length strawberry hair and smooth movements. Before he knew it, he'd sunk into the plum chair, soothed and relaxed, and began telling her stuff he'd never confessed before.
Humiliating. She'd gotten him good and scheduled him for a special workout that released negative toxins and got him cleared and open for love.