Matthew's Choice (2 page)

What was it he said to do next? He clicked Play and stared hard at the computer screen. Do what? Matt backed the video up and played it again. No doubt about it, the guy was talking Greek. He yanked the tie off and headed for his living room.

“I give up! Would you please do this stupid—”

The room was empty. His heart sank. She had to still be here—somebody had to help him. Movement on the balcony caught his eye. He tapped on the sliding door, and when she turned, he dangled the tie. “Help?” he mouthed.

She slid the door open, shivering as she came back into the room. “Sorry, I just had to get some fresh air. It’s chilly out there, but a beautiful night.”

Then she took the tie without even an I-told-you-so glance and smoothed it out before handing it back to him. “Slip it around your neck.”

He did as he was instructed. “Thanks for doing this.”

“No prob...that’s what friends are for. Now, be still.”

He tried not to move, acutely aware of how close she stood to him. Maybe he should’ve tried harder to tie it. He cleared his throat. “You haven’t said anything about the apartment. Do you like it?”

* * *

A
LLIE
HAD
DREADED
that question from the minute she’d stepped into the place. She supposed some people like the minimalist look—sparse white walls, chrome and glass tables and a thin, hard sofa that no doubt cost a mint. The room reminded her of a spread in an architectural magazine. And it fit Matthew to a T.

“It’s...”
Cold
and
sterile
were the only words that came to mind.
Just tell him what he wants to hear.
Her gaze locked on the one dash of color, an abstract painting with a flowing crimson line in the center. “It’s nice. I really like the painting. Did your girlfriend pick it out?” Allie nodded toward the silver frame that held a photo of Matt with his arms around a willowy redhead.

“It’s actually her painting, and she put all of this together.” His Adam’s apple bobbed. “Her name is Jessica Winthrop, and she likes to paint, like you. We...we’re kind of talking about getting married.” He shook his head. “No, we’re not just talking, we’re making plans. She loves big-city living.”

Implying Allie didn’t. But it hadn’t been the move to the big city she’d fought. She forced a thousand-watt smile to her lips. “I’m glad for you.”

Liar, liar, pants on fire.
She’d known one day he’d get married, and it wouldn’t be to her, but did he have to be the one to tell her? If she hadn’t come to Memphis over the holidays, hadn’t agreed to deliver Matt’s tux, she would’ve found out through the grapevine, which would’ve been bad enough.

And did he have to find someone who was an artist? She glanced at the painting again. Especially one so talented. She stifled a sigh. Focus on the task at hand. Get the tie on his neck and get out of here. Matt shifted his weight as she made a half knot and pulled it against his collar. “Be still so I can get this tied.”

A pregnant pause filled the room as Allie forced her fingers through the mechanics of knotting the tie. Finally she had the black silk material transformed into a presentable bow, and his collar turned back down. The pause grew heavier. “I saw your sister just before the Christmas break,” she said, more to fill the dead air than to pass information.

“What? Where?”

“At school. I double as the reading teacher and elementary school counselor. Her son has been having problems in the classroom.”

“Son?” His brow wrinkled into a frown. “What are you talking about?”

“When is the last time you saw Mariah?”

“Ten years ago, when Mother died.” He shrugged. “You were there—she was wasted.”

She definitely remembered Matt’s older sister that day. Allie had held Mariah’s head while she threw up in the commode. But now she understood his confusion—Mariah hadn’t told Matt she was pregnant. The son born to her was in Allie’s third-grade reading class and a frequent visitor to her counselor’s room. “And you haven’t talked to her since?”

“Sometimes. She calls every year or so, and for a while I have a number to reach her on, then it gets disconnected or she changes phones. But she never said anything about a kid.” His cell phone dinged. Matt checked it and winced.

“Your girlfriend?”

He nodded. “Jessica has decided she wants to drive, and she’ll be here in five minutes. Look, could I call you tomorrow to talk about my sister? Maybe we could get together for coffee.”

No way. Ending the year with a visit to Matt Jefferies was one thing. Starting the New Year off having coffee with the only man she’d ever loved and couldn’t have just was not happening. “I’m sorry. I have to go back to Cedar Grove tomorrow. Why don’t you simply call Mariah?”

“Why? So she can lie to me again? Besides, the number I have has been disconnected. Where are my sister and the boy living?”

“His name is Noah.” Allie dropped her gaze. “She works as a waitress at Loco Jim’s.”

Matt waited.

“And they live in a little house on Beaker Street.”

His shoulders sagged. “That’s next to the projects. Why didn’t she tell me? She could’ve stayed in Mom’s house. At least it would’ve been safer.”

“Last time I passed by your mom’s house, someone was living there.”

“I would have helped her find something better than that end of Beaker Street.”

Allie shook her head. “You don’t have a clue, do you? She would never ask you for anything.”

“What do you mean? Why not?”

“Really?” She grabbed her silk purse. “Look, I don’t think you want me here when your girlfriend arrives, so I’d better go.”

At the door, Allie turned around. “I know you’re mad at Mariah for running off with that Connors kid, and maybe she doesn’t live up to your expectations, but she and Noah need you. Call her tomorrow. Or even better, go back to Cedar Grove and see her, meet Noah.”

From the set of his jaw, she knew that wasn’t happening. “At least call her.”

“Wait,” he said. “Thanks for helping me.”

* * *

T
HE
ELEVATOR
DOORS
CLOSED
, and Allie slumped against the stainless-steel wall as the elevator descended from the penthouse floor to the parking garage. What had possessed her to let Clint talk her into delivering the tux? Thoughts of wowing Matt with her new, slim body? Ha! He hadn’t even noticed.

No doubt about it, Matt Jefferies had succeeded in putting his past behind him. Evidently he’d made his dreams come true. Money, great job, great apartment and definitely way out of her league.

And with that success, he needed a corporate wife. From the looks of that photo, he’d found one in Jessica
.
Who liked big-city living. Who would probably laugh at Allie’s job in the school system in tiny Cedar Grove. Allie squared her shoulders as the elevator stopped on the ground floor. Why should she even care what this fiancée thought?

Matt was getting married. She’d make it a point to avoid him in the future. No need in getting her heartbeat up again. Besides, she had a party to get to, one where maybe
her
Prince Charming waited. Or not. With her luck, Clint had fixed her up with one of the old geezers living at the retirement home where his girlfriend worked. The doors opened and she stepped out, almost colliding with a model-thin woman in a flaming red gown that was definitely not off-the-rack.

Allie jerked up short. “Oh! I’m sorry.”

The woman shook her head, her diamond teardrop earrings shimmering with the movement. “Oh, no, it was my fault entirely.”

Whoever said women with red hair shouldn’t wear red had never seen the girl in Matt’s photo. She sighed as the elevator doors closed. Oh, yeah. Matt was definitely out of Allie’s league.

As Allie walked to her car, her cell beeped, and she snagged the phone from the black satin clutch. Clint.
Where are you?

Instead of texting, she speed-dialed her brother’s number. “I’m on my way,” she said when he answered.

“Well, we’re waiting on you at the hotel, and your date is here.”

Oh, joy. “
I’m
not the one who sent me over here, mister. And how did you get there so quick? Last I saw of you, the tow truck was pulling your car off I-240.”

“My date picked me up.”

“Oh. Well, what about my date? Who is this mystery man, anyway?”

“It wouldn’t be a mystery if I told you. Now, get a move on.”

“I need an address.”

“It’s on Main Street at the Winthrop. Put the hotel in your GPS, and when you get here, ask at the desk for the Savannah Room and tell them Jessica Winthrop invited you.”

Clint lost her at the Winthrop. Double joy. Her brother never told Allie she was attending a party hosted by Matt’s girlfriend. Now she’d see her ex-boyfriend twice on New Year’s Eve. Could it get any better?

Twenty-five minutes later, she’d managed to get lost, not once, but twice. When she finally found the Savannah Room, she spied Clint pacing back and forth outside the door, all six feet of him.

He rubbed his jaw. “Where have you been? I was worried sick that you’d had an accident...or worse.”

“I’m sorry, I got turned around.” She glanced left, then right. “Where’s your girlfriend?”

Clint winced. “She had to leave right after I talked with you. An emergency at the assisted living where she works. Said she might make it later. For a while, I thought you both were dumping me.”

Allie linked her arm in his, patting it. “I’m here now, so let’s go meet this guy you’ve managed to snooker.”

“That’s where you’re wrong.” Clint winked at her. “Your date twisted my arm to finagle an evening with you.”

Allie tilted her head toward him. “What? Who is this person?”

“See for yourself. Voilà.” He extended his hand, palm out.

She turned. “Peter?”

What was he doing here?

CHAPTER TWO

M
ATT
SLIPPED
INTO
his jacket on the way to answer the doorbell again. He paused to look in the mirror and straighten his tie before sweeping the door open with a bow. “Good evening, madame.”

Jessica breezed through the doorway, a sensual aroma swirling in her wake. With her coppery hair pinned up, the diamond earrings she wore dangled against her bare neck. His gaze traveled the length of the red dress that fit perfectly. He’d never seen this one before. “Wow! You look gorgeous. I’ll have to fight the single men off tonight.”

For half a second, he considered proposing right then and there. But no, he wanted to do it right and speak with her father first.

She slipped her left leg through the slit. “So you like it?”

“Hmmm,” he said and pulled her to him.

Jessica pressed her lips against Matt’s, making his toes curl inside his Oxfords. When they parted he trailed his finger along her jaw. “So why didn’t you let me pick you up like we planned?”

“I forgot to get my mail from the box, and when I ran down to get it, there was a young mother with her baby outside the door. Found out she was waiting for a cab to come by.” The green flecks in her hazel eyes darkened. “It’s New Year’s Eve. She probably would have still been waiting if I hadn’t offered to give her a ride. After I found her destination was near your apartment, I went to plan B. And here I am.”

Knowing Jessica, it wouldn’t have mattered if the young woman needed to go clear across town.

“Who was your blond visitor?”

He blanked for a second. “Visitor?”

“The elevator. While I was waiting for it, I noticed someone came down from this floor. Female, blond, black dress? Hello?”

“Oh, that was Clint’s sister, delivering my tux.”

She glanced toward the door. “
That
was Clint’s sister? She looks nothing like the girl in your photo album.”

“She, um, lost a little weight.”

“That’s putting it mildly. Do you suppose she’ll be at the party with Clint?”

“Clint’s coming to the party?” Oh, wait, Clint had mentioned a party. Matt just didn’t realize it was
this
party. His mind had been on Bradford.

“You never listen to me.” Jessica punched him lightly on the shoulder. She glanced at the mirror and tucked a copper curl that had escaped the clasp back into place. “I told you last week I invited him, told him to bring guests if he wanted to. The more the merrier. Is my hair spray still here? This twig is driving me crazy.”

“Top shelf in the bathroom.” Thank goodness he’d rehung the towel.

“Oh, good.” She held up her finger. “Won’t take me but a sec.”

Why hadn’t Allie mentioned she’d be at the party? Why hadn’t Clint, for that matter? Matt’s stomach gulped at the thought of seeing Allie again. He’d seen the disapproval in her eyes when Mariah’s name came up. And the kid...what was his name?
Noah.
Just what did Allie expect him to do? Take the two of them in? He pressed his lips together. Mariah had made her choices long ago, and he’d tried to help her then. He wasn’t sure bailing her out now was the right answer. Matt checked his own hair in the mirror and frowned. Maybe a squirt of that hair spray would help his cowlick. He started into his bedroom and braked at the door as his heart crashed against his chest. He’d forgotten to put away his grandmother’s rings, and Jessica had found them. She stood with her back to him, holding them up to the light, and once more he was tempted. No. He had it all planned for tomorrow. He stepped back into the living room and cleared his throat. “Are you finished? I need to get in there.”

“Coming,” Jessica answered.

“Oh, and by the way,” Matt called, “Phillip Bradford wants to meet with me tomorrow morning at nine. Shouldn’t take long. What do you say I pick you up at eleven?”

“You hadn’t planned anything earlier, had you? I won’t be up until ten at the earliest.”

Check mark. That problem solved itself. A minute later she hurried back into the room. He examined her face, but it didn’t give him a single clue as to how she felt about the rings.

“I forgot to tell you...Daddy wants us there early.” She tapped her watch. “Like five minutes ago.”

“And you’re just now telling me?” He shook his head. “Let me put my cuff links in, and we’ll go.”

In the bedroom, he glanced at the ring box and smiled. Jessica wasn’t giving anything away. The box was closed, and exactly where he’d left it. Now if he could just corner Mr. Winthrop before his nerves got the best of him.

What if Winthrop thought Matt was crazy, asking for Jessica’s hand? Or he thought it was too old-fashioned. Matt hadn’t considered that. He fumbled with the cuff link as the stud hung in the material. Winthrop
seemed
to like him, but what if he’d misread her father? No, Winthrop liked him. Matt manhandled the stud through the buttonholes and straightened the cuffs.

Tonight he’d ask the father, tomorrow the daughter.

* * *

W
HEN
THEY
ARRIVED
, the party in the Savannah Room rocked the walls. Glittering gold letters proclaimed Happy New Year from the ceiling as music flowed from the string ensemble, providing the backdrop for dancing or mingling. Already the party was a success. Before Matt had even had time to mix with the crowd, Mr. Winthrop pulled him aside.

“Matthew. I’d like to speak privately with you. This way.”

Matt followed the older man to a side room, feeling much like he did as a kid when his dad led him to the woodshed. Only expensive walnut paneling lined this woodshed, along with carpet deep enough to sink his feet into.

“Cigar?” Winthrop picked one then offered Matt the box

An Ashton Cabinet. He hesitated. What if Winthrop expected him to light up? The thought almost made him green. But offending the man would be worse, and he took one from the middle.

“The Ashton Cabinet is a mild but subtly complex cigar,” Winthrop said as he clipped the end off and handed Matt the cutter. “I think you will enjoy it.”

Matt swallowed and copied the older man’s actions, then waited as Winthrop lit his cigar. Oh, cool. A lighter with a double flame.

Winthrop rotated the cigar under the fire. “The secret, Matt, is to toast the end, not burn it.” He puffed on the fat roll of tobacco then blew on the end.

Once again, Matt copied Winthrop. On his third puff, queasiness rolled in his stomach, and he clamped his mouth shut. It was awfully hot in the room, and he adjusted his collar. What did Winthrop just say? “Sir? I didn’t quite catch that.”

Winthrop pointed to a pair of wingback chairs and a small table in the corner. “I asked if you’d like to sit.”

Thank goodness. After they were seated, a heavy silence surrounded them. Winthrop puffed his cigar while Matt rolled his in his fingers. “I guess you can tell I’m not much of a cigar connoisseur.”

“So I see.”

Matt cleared his throat. “Actually, sir, I’d like to talk with you about your daughter.”

Winthrop puffed his stogie once more. He blew the smoke toward the ceiling, and a series of small
O
’s floated above his head. “That’s why I brought you in here. How long have you been with the Winthrop Corporation, Matt?”

He blinked. “Seven years, sir. Right out of college.”

“If I remember correctly, you started on the front desk, and now you’re director of food and beverages. I understand you’ve gone after the J. Phillip Bradford account. You’re ambitious. I like that.” He fixed a hard stare on Matt. “I want that contract, even if we have to lose money on the Valentine’s Day banquet.”

Lose money? Matt adjusted his collar. “I don’t understand.”

“Do you know how many years I’ve tried to get Bradford’s accounts? Did you know he doesn’t always take the lowest bid? I know. I’ve had the lowest bid.” Winthrop rubbed his jaw with his thumb. “No, he weighs the services offered against the cost. Whoever comes up with what he’s looking for, wins. I’ve never been able to figure out exactly what he wants. I hope you’re up to the challenge.”

Great. Nothing like more pressure. “You can quit worrying, sir. I will get Bradford’s business, starting with the Valentine’s Day banquet.” He spoke the words with more conviction than he felt.

Winthrop stared at the end of his cigar. After a long minute he shifted his gaze back to Matt and seemed to measure him. Matt sat a little straighter and waited.

“Matthew, how do you feel about family?”

“Sir?”

“I’ve never heard you discuss your family. And naturally, as I watch this growing relationship you have with my daughter, I want to know a little more about you beyond your business side. Family is very important, don’t you agree?”

“Yes, sir. Unfortunately, the only family I have is my sister and her son.” What would Winthrop say if he knew Matt had never met the boy? Maybe after he closed the deal with J. Phillip Bradford, he’d take a day off and drive to Cedar Grove and look them up. “We haven’t been close in some time. She married and moved away.”

“Perhaps you could bring them to dinner some night.”

Matt’s palms sweated. Mariah had been stoned at his mother’s funeral, and he doubted she’d cleaned up her act. “Yes, sir.”

“Good.” Winthrop wafted
O
’s toward the ceiling again, then leveled his gaze at Matt. “Just so you know, my daughter is very precious to me. She’s my only child, and I’ll admit, more than a little spoiled. I even have in mind buying the house next door for her and her future husband.”

Matt swallowed. If Jessica agreed to marry him, he was not living next door to the Winthrops. Even if it
was
a mansion. But that discussion could wait until another night.

Her father stared at the white ash on the end of his cigar then stubbed the cigar in an ashtray. “Matthew, if you in any way hurt Jessica, I—”

“I can assure you, Mr. Winthrop, I will not hurt your daughter. With your blessing, and if she’ll have me, I want to marry her.”

* * *

A
LLIE
CAUGHT
HER
breath as Peter Elliott walked toward them, his light blue eyes fixed on her. He’d joked about them going out last week, but she hadn’t a clue he was serious. With his blond good looks, the broad-shouldered director of social services in Cedar Grove could date any number of women.

“You could’ve told me,” she muttered.

Clint laughed. “And have you say no?”

Not necessarily. But probably. Since the fiasco with Matt, she’d been reluctant to risk her heart again. Besides, she and Peter had been buddies since grade school, and she’d simply never thought of him in a romantic way. Maybe it was time to rethink their relationship.

Peter gave a slight bow when he reached them and took her hand. “I hope you don’t mind that I invited myself to your New Year’s Eve celebration.”

“Mind?” She shook her head. “Just a little surprised.”

Clint touched her arm. “I’m going to our table, over there in the corner.”

She followed his gaze to an empty table just below a huge TV that played images of New Year’s Eve celebrations from all over the world. Allie glanced around the room, counting ten TVs interspersed around the gold and silver streamers that hung from the ceiling.

“May I have this dance?” Peter said.

She hadn’t even heard the music and glanced toward the front of the room, where a string ensemble played “Moonlight Serenade.” Dancing seemed preferable to making small talk at the table. “As long as you don’t step on my toes, I’ll try not to step on yours.”

“I’m sure you won’t.” Peter held his hand out.

Allie wrinkled her nose at him. “You haven’t seen me dance.”

She accepted his hand and followed him to the dance floor, where he took her lightly in his arms. It never entered her mind that he might actually trample her feet. No, it would be the other way around. Peter Elliott came from old money in Cedar Grove, and his social graces were impeccable, as were his clothes. The black tux had
high quality
written all over it, and she’d bet he even tied his own bow tie. The memory of Matt holding his out to her brought a quick smile to her lips.

“Did I say something funny?”

An
oops
shivered down her spine, and she looked up into his questioning blue eyes.

“No...it was something that happened earlier tonight.”

Peter tightened his hold on her. “I’m sure Matthew Jefferies did any number of things that were amusing. I couldn’t believe it when your brother told me he and Jessica Winthrop were an item.” He leaned her back. “Weren’t you sweet on him once?”

“Once.” She almost stumbled, then concentrated on following Peter as he whirled her around. When the music ended, the ensemble slipped into a tango, and she shook her head at the invitation written on his face. “I think I’ll sit this one out.”

She allowed Peter to lead her through the crowd to their table, where Clint sat alone. Hopefully, with this many people at the party, she’d be able to avoid Matt and his girlfriend. Correction, make that his almost-fiancée. At the table, Peter offered to get her something to drink.

“Lime water,” she said. After he left, she turned on her brother. “Just how did this date come about? And why didn’t you tell me?”

“Last question first—I can count on one hand the number of men you’ve dated since you and Matt broke up. I figured you’d say no and so did Peter, so we decided not to tell you.”

“Why were you even talking to him?”

“Last week a sixteen-year-old girl from Cedar Grove showed up at my Boys and Girls Club. One of my older girls had dragged her there after finding her living in her car. Since Peter is head of social services in Cedar Grove, I called him so he could notify the parents and ended up inviting him to the party—I knew Jessica wouldn’t mind if I brought a few extra people.”

Allie traced the fleur-de-lis pattern on the linen tablecloth. “How...do you like Jessica?”

“She’s great. You’d like her if you met her. She volunteers at the club, teaching etiquette and art—the kids all love her.”