Dating the Guy Next Door (7 page)

“The hot artist?” Keith looked up in interest. “So my competition did work.”

“And how do you figure that?” Matt lifted an eyebrow.

“Because you met her thanks to my announcement. The radio station will love this. I mean, buddy, if it wasn't for me you never would've forced your way into her gallery like that. When can I get you both in for an interview?”

“Try never,” Matt retorted.

“Talk about ungrateful,” Keith muttered as he reached over to the coffee table for the envelope he'd brought around with him. “Especially when I came here bearing gifts.”

“Only because the radio station made you,” Sam reminded him as Keith waved the envelope in the air. It was for two free nights at the Talbot, and according to Keith his bosses had insisted that Matt be given it as a way of an apology.

“And they can have them right back again,” Matt said as he picked up the envelope and tucked it back into Keith's jacket, which was on a messy heap on the floor. The last thing he wanted was anything to do with the competition. Even an apology.

Keith rolled his eyes, but Sam ignored him as he turned his attention back to Matt.

“Enough deflection. I want some juicy details. What's she like and when's the wedding?”

“Seriously, what is it with you two?” Matt frowned. “We're going on a date, not getting married.”

“So you say, but I know you, Matt, and once you make your mind up to do something, you do it.” Sam took another
sip of his beer and nodded his head, as if he'd just said something deeply insightful. “Which means now you've decided to have kids, knowing you, you'll be proposing any day now.”

“Yeah, well just make sure you give us time to organize a decent bachelor party,” Keith chimed in, and Matt frowned as he looked at his watch.

“For your information, Kate and I have purposely decided that we're going to take it slowly. Be spontaneous—and before either of you open your mouths, yes, I can be spontaneous. In fact, I'm about to spontaneously kick you both out of my place right now.”

“As your best friend, I have to tell you that being spontaneous has made you grumpy.” Sam looked reluctantly at his half-finished beer before struggling to his feet. Obviously the prospect of going back to a house full of recovering chicken-pox victims wasn't as appealing as having another drink, but Matt made a pointed effort of bagging up the beers and thrusting them toward Sam. He then turned to where Keith was still sprawled.

“You too.”

“Don't be like that,” Keith complained.

“Like what?” Matt said in exasperation. “Anyone would think you don't have a home to go to.”

“You're not too far off. Ever since Miranda discovered my address, she keeps trying to pop over to discuss the show. It's a nightmare.”

“Oh, we can't have the big, bad producer scaring poor little Keith,” Matt retorted.

“Exactly,” Keith began before catching Matt's pointed look. He sighed. “You still want me to go, don't you?”

“That would be yes.” Matt nodded his head as Keith reluctantly stood up and smoothed down his wrinkled clothes in an attempt to look dignified.

“Well.” He sniffed. “I know when I'm not wanted.”

“Good,” Matt replied as he walked his two friends down to the front door.

Once they were gone he returned to his tuxedo, to check it was still in one piece. It had been a while since he'd worn it. Probably his parents' thirty-fifth wedding anniversary two months ago, when he and Emma had rounded up all the bridesmaids, flower girls and groomsmen and re-created the ceremony all over again.

Matt smiled as he recalled the startled look on his mother's face when she realized what was going on. Emma had booked the original church and Matt had been driving his mother there on the pretext of needing some help sweet-talking the priest into letting a corporate client use the church for a photo shoot.

But when they'd both walked up the tiled steps of St. Joseph's, his mother had squeezed his hand in understanding. “You wonderful children,” she whispered with a tear in her eye. “Thank you.”

It had been a touching moment. Of course, then Cousin Edith had accidentally let off the party popper Emma had given her for later, and the noise had caused Great-Auntie Ruth to dive under the pew screaming for everyone to get their gas masks because the enemy was at it again. But despite the chaos, Matt had still felt the strength of his family ties reaching
out to bind him. It had been a good feeling.

***

“So let me get this straight. After you refused to go on a date with Matt, you then let him help you with your pitch—which, by the way, yay for getting the job! And then asked him to be your fake boyfriend tomorrow night in a non-date capacity. Have I got everything?” Jenny said from the other end of the cell phone as Kate walked around her studio and resisted the urge to peer out the window and see if Matt had arrived back in his zippy red convertible.

“Of course it's going to sound bad when you say it like that,” Kate protested as she turned back and around and paced in the opposite direction.

“Bad? Who said anything about bad?” Jenny retorted. “I think it sounds amazing and I'm so proud that you're finally putting yourself back out there. Even if it's in a slightly complicated fashion.”

“Oh.” Kate came to a halt and grinned, much like she'd been doing ever since she'd gotten back from her meeting with Monica Peterson six hours ago. “So, you're not mad?”

“Hell, no. As your best friend, I'm officially delighted and a little bit jealous. My life seems boring in comparison. But all I've ever wanted is for you to get over that creep of an ex-husband, and if pretending not to date your dashing new neighbor makes you happy, then I'm good. Oh, hang on a moment . . . Why don't you watch where you're going, moron?”

Kate winced as she realized Jenny was driving. The first time she'd hopped into a car with her friend behind the wheel had also been the last. And it was the same for most of their other acquaintances. In fact, the only people who tolerated Jenny's driving were her husband, Jamie, and small daughter, Lucille. All Kate could figure was that Jenny was more considerate to her family than she was to the rest of the drivers on the road.

“Sorry about that.” Jenny came back into the conversation. “You wouldn't believe what that idiot tried to do.”

Kate could very well believe but she chose to keep her own counsel. “Look, Jen, perhaps I should call you back?”

“Don't you dare,” her friend chided. “Jamie bought me one of those Bluetooth gizmos so I can talk and drive all at the same time. Now, back to this not-date of yours. Have you decided what you're going to wear?”

“Not really,” Kate admitted, since the most thought she normally gave her clothing was if it was dirty or not. “But I guess I could go shopping tomorrow morning. Hey, why don't you come with me?”

“Because I've got to fly to Vancouver tonight to supervise the motel refit I'm working on. But while you're in town, don't forget to look for a Very Mary doll. I was talking to Christy Keegan and she seemed to think they were all sold out. Mind you, she also thought that she was having a real conversation with the queen on Twitter last week,” Jenny said before pausing. “You haven't forgotten about Lucille's birthday, have you?”

“Of course not,” Kate replied as she crossed her fingers. In her defense, it had been a very busy and unusual week. Plus, when she went into denial about something she usually did it in style. “Don't worry, it's in the calendar. I'm looking at it now and it says, ‘get Very Mary on Saturday.'”

“Liar. If you even owned a calendar you'd never find it,” Jenny retorted. “And, Kate, I know you're going to hate me saying this, but as far as a dress goes, I think you should ask Julia for help.”

Kate flinched.

There was no denying that her mother was a fashion expert, which probably explained why she owned one of the hottest boutiques in town. It was just the thought of having to ask her mother for anything went against the grain. In fact, Kate sometimes wondered if she purposely wasn't interested in clothes as a direct backlash to her mother's complete obsession with them?

She guiltily recalled the numerous messages her mother had been leaving on the answering machine lately, not to mention her impromptu visit when Kate had been at the framer. She had intended to return the calls but somehow something always came up.

“Look,” Jenny continued in a softer voice, as if guessing the internal battle her friend was having. “I know you're a modern independent girl who doesn't like to ask for help, but for some unknown reason, when it comes to fashion, your taste in clothing is that of a color-blind monk. You need someone's guidance and since I won't be there, Julie's the next best person.”

“I'll see,” Kate said in a tight voice as she caught sight of Matt's red car pulling up outside his office. She couldn't quite stop herself from edging closer to the window and peering out from behind the display, much like Matt had done the other day. From her hidden position she watched him get out of the car, his caramel hair flying in all directions from the wind, making him look even more rugged than normal. Suddenly the idea of turning up on his arm wearing her one decent outfit didn't seem like such a good idea even if it was only for a non-date.

“Kate, this is a surprise.” Julia looked up from the order book she'd been studying, her face a picture of confusion.

“Hi. I hope I'm not disturbing you.” Kate gulped. She'd been avoiding this moment all morning by dawdling around town unsuccessfully looking for a Very Mary doll. But it was no good because like Cinderella, she wasn't going anywhere unless she had a new dress. The only problem was that Julia was hardly the fairy godmother of her dreams. Still, Kate had long ago learned that dreams didn't always come true.

“Don't be silly.” Julia shook her glossy chestnut hair and Kate watched enviously as it fell perfectly back into place. At forty-three years old, her mother still looked absurdly young, and her petite figure was swathed in some kind of clingy suede creation the same color as her violet eyes. Kate had always found it difficult growing up in Julia's shadow, and she could often hear the whispers of how on earth did the gorgeous Julia produce such an oversized daughter and with all that hair . . .

Not that her mother had ever made her feel clumsy. Well, not on purpose. But it was difficult always having her strong size-ten figure compared to her mother's wispy size two. It was yet another thing that they didn't have in common, and not for the first time Kate wondered if they were really related.

“Good.” Kate awkwardly shuffled from foot to foot while wondering if it was too late to walk straight back out. “So, how have you been?”

“Busy, very busy,” Julia said as she suddenly studied her nail polish before looking up. “Which reminds me, I've got some things I wanted to talk to you about. Perhaps we could have a cup of coffee later?”

“Actually, I'm kind of in a hurry today,” Kate said before noticing that her mother was looking slightly pale. A sliver of guilt ran through her as she thought of all the unreturned calls. “Was it important?”

“No.” Julia gave a quick shake of her head. “I, um, just wanted to see how you're doing. When I went into the gallery the other day, you had a very good-looking man in there and a builder looking at the large hole in your ceiling. It seems like you've been busy too. I guess I thought it would be nice to catch up.”

“Oh.” Kate's face heated up with guilt. It wasn't like she had purposely kept her mother in the dark, it was just they never normally discussed those sort of things. Or anything. “Well, Matt's my neighbor who offered to keep an eye on the gallery while I went out on an errand, and the hole in the ceiling is scheduled to be fixed in three weeks.”

“Oh, well that's good. You know—” Julia paused and pushed her lips together in a hesitant line. “If you need a place to stay while the work's being done, you could always move in with me for a few days.”

“Er, actually, I think I've got something figured out,” Kate quickly lied as a familiar silence surrounded them. It had always been like that, ever since Julia recovered from her breakdown and returned to collect Kate with a Cabbage Patch doll in tow, as if that would somehow fix everything. Kate knew that her mother was only trying to compensate for abandoning her for so long, but what Julia never seemed to realize was that the more she tried, the more Kate was reminded about Andy's
death.

“Of course. Well, the offer's there,” Julia assured her before coughing, as if eager to change the subject. That made two of them. “Right, so, how can I help?”

“Oh.” Kate took a deep breath as they slipped back into their normal formality. “I need a dress for tonight.”

“Really?” Julia raised a perfectly groomed eyebrow in surprise. Kate couldn't blame her. Especially since it was a well-known fact that Kate's idea of a new outfit was when the Army surplus store was having a sale. Not to mention that normally her mother was the last person she'd go to for help. Desperate times obviously did call for desperate measures. “So what's the occasion?”

“It's a black-tie fund-raising thing,” Kate said before seeing the way Julia tentatively sucked in her breath, as if hoping for a more detailed explanation. Normally she would've ignored it, but she still felt bad for the unreturned phone calls, so she added, “I've just received a very big commission. That's part of the reason I wasn't in the gallery when you came by and it's why I can afford to get the ceiling fixed.”

“You have? Oh, Katie, that's wonderful.” Julia beamed with delight. “I'm so proud. You're such an amazing artist.”

“Thank you,” Kate said in surprise. She normally didn't bother to tell Julia what she was doing in her career, so while she supposed that her mother's reaction was natural, it was still unexpected. “Anyway, you know what my wardrobe's like.”

“It's not so bad,” Julia said in a diplomatic voice before rubbing her chin in consideration. “Okay, so we should get to work, but first, are you taking a date?”

“A—a date?” Kate stammered. “Why would you say that? Did Jenny call you? Because if she did, then you just need to ignore everything she said.”

“Oh,” Julia said in alarm. “I didn't mean to upset you. And no, Jenny didn't call me. It's just if this is black-tie and you're taking a date, I just wanted to make sure that your gown complemented what they were wearing. To make a real power statement.”

“Oh.” Kate's cheeks heated up. “Sorry, I didn't mean to overreact. The thing is that I am taking someone. It's Matt from next door and Jenny's trying to make a lot more out of it than there is. It's not even a real date,” Kate added, and for a moment Julia opened her mouth as if she was going to say something before suddenly clamping down on her lip.

“I'm the first to know how complicated dating can be. Especially after your breakup with Harry. Thankfully I've met Matt, so I've seen his coloring, which will give me a good idea of what to go for,” Julia said before turning her attention to one of the bulging clothing racks. It seemed that Kate wasn't the only one eager to change the subject. “So we need something formal enough to impress your new bosses with just a hint of girlfriend.”

“I—I guess. And thank you.”

“It's no problem,” Julia assured her as her long red nails scraped back hangers one by one while her deep violet eyes kept flicking from Kate's faded jeans back to the array of dresses on display. “You know, I've been dying to do this for years. Remember those heavenly little outfits I used to make for you?”

“No, I don't remember—” Kate started to say before blinking as a long-forgotten moment appeared in her mind. She must have only been about four years old, and she could see Julia in the corner of the room with her sewing machine, whistling as she put the finishing touches on a tiny dress. “Actually, I do. Was one of them pink with frills?”

“That's it.” Julia seemed pleased. “It was adorable, but of course you being you refused to put it on and in the end we used it to dress one of your teddy bears.”

“That's right.” Kate found herself nodding as she tried to reconcile the version of Julia in her mind—the one who liked to stay home with her family—with the one who spent most of her time out being the life of the party. It was confusing. “I'd forgotten all about it.”

“It was a long time ago,” Julia said in a mild voice. Then, as if suddenly remembering herself, she got busy searching through one of the clothing racks. “So, are you sure about this?”

Kate nodded her head. “Sure as I'm ever going to be, so do your worst.”

However, an hour later Kate was starting to regret her decision. “This one will be fine,” she said wearily as she tugged yet another dress on, but her mother shook her head.

“You can't possibly think of wearing orange with your complexion. I was only letting you try it on to see what the A-line skirt looks like.” As she spoke she carefully straightened the hemline before taking a step back and clicking her tongue. “No, that's no good.”

“I'm sure it is,” Kate protested, causing Julia to look at her in horror.

“You don't want to wear last year's style, do you?”

“I'm beyond caring. How can this be so hard?”

Julia paused for a minute and handed her another outfit. “It actually gets easier with time. Just like you know which colors to use in your paintings, after a while you instinctively know what suits you.”

Kate raised a thoughtful eyebrow as she whipped off the dress and slipped on the next garment. The material felt soft, and the color—a dull red—was flecked with a shot of black. It had thin straps and a delicately draped bodice that created curves without being constricting. Kate squirmed until the material slipped down over her hips and fell in loose folds to just above her ankles. At least she could breathe in this one.

“So?” she said doubtfully as she stepped out of the changing room.

“Perfect,” Julia exclaimed as she held up a delicate black wrap. “Now just drape this over your shoulders and you'll be ready to take on the world.”

“Maybe not the world,” Kate giggled as she did a nervous twirl and raised her arm to drop a clumsy curtsey. “But I do like it. Thank you for being so patient with me.”

“Don't be silly. I'm thrilled that you asked for help. I know how much you value your independence.”

Kate stiffened. Was that how her mother saw it? It wasn't like she'd pushed Julia out on purpose, it's just that's what they'd always done. But judging by the look on her mother's face, Kate suddenly wondered if Julia felt the same way.

Then she inspected the dress again. Of course the main reason for getting it was to ensure she didn't embarrass herself in front of the Petersons. But, despite the fact it wasn't a date, she'd be lying if she didn't hope that Matt would like it too. Then, before she could change her mind, she reached for her emergency credit card and passed it over to her mother. It looked like Cinderella was going to the ball.

***

Heels were stupid. And for that matter so was mascara. And hairspray. In fact all of it was stupid and if it wasn't for the fact that she'd already promised Monica Peterson that she'd go to the fund-raiser tonight Kate would be very tempted to tear her new dress off and curl up on the sofa in her yoga pants with Socrates.

She took a deep breath and once again tried to apply her mascara without stabbing herself in the eye. One coat, two coats, done. She let out a sigh of relief and inspected herself in the mirror. As well as the mascara she'd added a dash of red lipstick and had coaxed her curls into a topknot. Several were already escaping and she was just contemplating redoing it when the bell on her gallery door rang and Socrates went racing down the stairs to investigate.

Kate took one final glance in the mirror and then reached for her small black evening purse and followed the cat down at a more sedate pace. She tried to tell herself that she was just nervous because of how formal the night was going to be, but she had a sneaking suspicion that it was because she was about to see Matt again. She knew it was ridiculous considering she'd seen him nearly every day since he'd invaded her studio, but tonight it somehow felt different. For a start she was wearing perfume and clothes that required dry cleaning.

And boy, did he look good in a tuxedo.

Kate clutched at the door handle and stared at him. The black and white brought out the planes and angles of his gorgeous face while the shoulders of his dinner jacket did nothing to hide his muscular frame below.

“H-hello,” she managed to stammer, her throat suddenly dry.

“Hey. Wow, you look amazing.” Matt grinned as his eyes seemed to drink her in. Then he leaned forward until he was just inches from her face and carefully brushed something from her shoulder. “Cat fur,” he murmured.

“Thanks.” Kate took a gulp of air and hoped that her face wasn't betraying her heightened emotions. “And you look great too.”

“Good. I suddenly had a vision that the dry cleaners might have somehow shrunk it since the last time I wore it and I would've hated to disappoint you.”

Kate doubted anyone could be disappointed with Matt, and when he offered his arm she slipped hers into it and they both walked out to his car. Thankfully he had the top pulled over or else Kate suspected her carefully applied makeup would've ended up on the side of her face.

“Nervous?” he asked as he held open the door and Kate tried to climb in without tripping over.

“A little,” she admitted. “Going to functions isn't really my thing. I'm normally the one who stays in the background.
Not to mention these heels could be used as torture devices.”

“You weren't made for the background, Kate Mitchell, and if your shoes hurt, you can always lean on me,” Matt assured her as he climbed into the driver's side and made his way across Seattle. They spent most of the journey talking about inconsequential things and Kate realized that Matt was doing it on purpose to put her at ease. The fact that it was working made her feel even more grateful to him, and by the time he pulled up to the imposing house at Mercer Island she felt moderately calm.

The tires crunched against the gravel as they rolled down the long driveway, guided by an immaculate-looking hedge and subtle lighting. The house itself screamed money over taste and Kate found herself wincing in displeasure. Give her the simple beauty of her little studio and gallery any day, and even though she didn't have views of Lake Washington or ten hundred bathrooms (or a full ceiling), she still couldn't warm to the colossal structure in front of her.

“Hideous, isn't it?” Matt murmured as he guided her from the car and gave his keys to the valet, who was hovering over by the neatly tended garden bed. They were greeted by two waiters who were collecting tickets. More waiters ushered them into the overly decorated room that was filled with the cream of Seattle society, and Kate could hear a buzz in her ears as her pulse fluttered wildly in her wrists. This was a bad idea. A very, very bad idea. If she thought she didn't belong in the Petersons' boardroom, she most certainly didn't belong in their lavish house, but before she could turn and run, Matt's hand pressed in on her back and his shoulder grazed hers.