The Perfect Match. Debbie Macomber
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“I won’t be swayed and you won’t, either.” Janine found the thought oddly disappointing.
“If and when I do marry,” Zach informed her, “which I sincerely doubt, I’ll choose my own bride.”
It went without saying that Janine was nothing like the woman he’d want to spend his life with.
“If and when I marry, I’ll choose my own husband,” she said, sounding equally firm. And it certainly wouldn’t be a man her grandfather had chosen.
“I don’t know if I like boys or not,” thirteen-year-old Pam Hudson admitted over a cheeseburger and French fries. “They can be so dumb.”
It’d been a week since Janine’s dinner with Zach, and she was surprised that the teenager’s assessment of the opposite sex should so closely match her own.
“I’m not even sure I like Charlie anymore,” Pam said as she stirred her catsup with a French fry. Idly she smeared it around the edges of her plate in a haphazard pattern. “I used to be so crazy about him, remember?”
Janine smiled indulgently. “Every other word was Charlie this and Charlie that.”
“He can be okay, though. Remember when he brought me that long-stemmed rose and left it on my porch?”
“I remember.” Janine’s mind flashed to the afternoon she’d met Zach. As they left the restaurant, he’d smiled at her. It wasn’t much as smiles went, but for some reason, she couldn’t seem to forget how he’d held her gaze, his dark eyes gentle, as he murmured polite nonsense. Funny how little things about this man tended to pop up in her mind at the strangest moments.
“But last week,” Pam continued, “Charlie was playing basketball with the guys, and when I walked by, he pretended he didn’t even know me.”
“That hurt, didn’t it?”
“Yeah, it did,” Pam confessed. “And after I bought a T-shirt for him, too.”
“Does he wear it?”
A gratified smile lit the girl’s eyes. “All the time.”
“By the way, I like how you’re doing your hair.”
Pam beamed. “I want it to look more like yours.”
Actually, the style suited Pam far better than it did her, Janine thought. The sides were cut close to the head, but the long bangs flopped with a life of their own—at least on Janine they did. Lately she’d taken to pinning them back.
“How are things at home?” Janine asked, watching the girl carefully. Pam’s father, Jerry Hudson, was divorced and had custody of his daughter. Pam’s mother worked on the East Coast. With no family in the area, Jerry felt that his daughter needed a woman’s influence. He’d contacted the Friendship Club about the same time Janine had applied to be a volunteer. Since Jerry worked odd hours as a short-order cook, she’d met him only once. He seemed a decent sort, working hard to make a good life for himself and his daughter.
Pam was a marvelous kid, Janine mused, and she possessed exceptional creative talent. Even before her father could afford to buy her a sewing machine, Pam had been designing and making clothes for her Barbie dolls. Janine’s bandanna dress was one of the first projects she’d completed on her new machine. Pam had made several others since; they were popular with her friends, and she was ecstatic about the success of her ideas.
“I think I might forgive Charlie,” she went on to say, her look contemplative. “I mean, he was with the guys and everything.”
“It’s not cool to let his friends know he’s got a girlfriend, huh?”
“Yeah, I guess….”
Janine wasn’t feeling nearly as forgiving toward Zach. He’d talked about their keeping in touch, but hadn’t called her since. She didn’t believe for an instant that Gramps had given up on his marriage campaign, but he’d apparently decided to let the matter rest. The pressure was off, yet Janine kept expecting some word from Zach. The least he could do was call, she grumbled to herself, although she made no attempt to analyze the reasons for her disappointment.
“Maybe Charlie isn’t so bad, after all,” Pam murmured, then added wisely, “This is an awkward age for boys, especially in their relationships with girls.”
“Say,” Janine teased, “who’s supposed to be the adult here, anyway? That’s my line.”
“Oh, sorry,”
Smiling, Janine stole a French fry from Pam’s plate and popped it into her mouth.
“So when are you leaving for Scotland?” Pam wanted to know.
“Next week.”
“How long are you going to be gone?”
“Ten days.” The trip was an unexpected gift from her grandfather. One night shortly after she’d met Zach for dinner, Gramps had handed her a packet with airline tickets and hotel reservations. When she’d asked why, his reply had been vague, even cryptic—something about her needing to get away. Since she’d always dreamed of visiting Scotland, she’d leapt at the chance.
It wasn’t until she’d driven Pam home that Janine thought she should let Zach know she was going to be out of the country. It probably wasn’t important, but he’d made such a point of saying they should keep in touch….
Janine planned her visit to the office carefully, making sure Gramps would be occupied elsewhere. Since she’d been shopping for her trip, she was carrying several department and clothing store bags. She was doing this for a reason. She wanted her visit to appear unplanned, as if in the course of a busy day, she’d suddenly remembered their agreement. She felt that dropping in would seem more spontaneous than simply calling.
“Hello,” she said to Zach’s efficient secretary, smiling cheerfully. “Is Mr. Thomas available? I’ll only need a moment of his time.”
The older woman clearly disapproved of this intrusion, but although she pursed her lips, she didn’t verbalize her objection. She pushed the intercom button and Janine felt a tingle of awareness at the sound of Zach’s strong masculine voice.
“This is a pleasant surprise,” he said, standing as Janine breezed into the room.
She set her bags on the floor and with an exaggerated sigh, eased herself into the chair opposite his desk and crossed her legs. “I’m sorry to drop in unannounced,” she said casually, “but I have some news.”
“No problem.” His gaze fell to the bags heaped on the floor. “Looks like you had a busy afternoon.”
“I was shopping.”
“So I see. Any special reason?”
“It’s my trousseau.” Melodramatically, she pressed the back of her hand against her forehead. “I can’t take the pressure anymore. I’ve come to tell you I told my grandfather to go ahead and arrange the wedding. Someday, somehow, we’ll learn to love each other.”
“This isn’t amusing. Now what’s so important that it can’t—”
“Mr. Thomas,” his secretary said crisply over the intercom, “Mr. Hartman is here to see you.”
Janine’s eyes widened in panic as her startled gaze flew to Zach, who looked equally alarmed. It would be the worst possible thing for Gramps to discover Janine alone with Zach in his office. She hated to think how he’d interpret that.
“Just a minute,” Zach said, reading the hysteria in her eyes. She marveled at how composed he sounded. He pointed toward a closed door and ushered her into a small room—or a large closet—that was practically a home away from home. A bar, refrigerator, microwave, sink and other conveniences were neatly arranged inside. No sooner was the door slammed shut behind her than it was jerked open again and three large shopping bags were