The Manning Brides: Marriage of Inconvenience / Stand-In Wife. Debbie Macomber
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was to Jamie. As much of a surprise as offering Bill the play-off tickets …
Actually, it was a damn good idea. This way he could lead naturally, casually, into the subject of Bill. The last thing he wanted Jamie to think was that he’d arranged anything.
The movie was indeed a stroke of genius, Rich decided as they drove to the theater. He’d always enjoyed Jamie’s company and never more so than now. An evening with her was an escape from the games and pretenses involved in taking out someone new—and it was exactly what he needed to settle his nerves. He didn’t like to say much, particularly to his family, but Pamela had hurt him badly. He no longer trusted his judgment when it came to women. Oh, he dated. Often. But he was tired of all the games. Pamela hadn’t just broken his heart; the damage she’d inflicted went deeper than that. She’d caused him to doubt himself.
Rich pulled into a movie complex in the Seattle suburbs, close to Jamie’s condominium. He bought their tickets, but she insisted on buying the popcorn and the chocolate-covered raisins.
He was just thinking how nice it was to be with a woman who wasn’t constantly worrying about her weight when she leaned over and whispered, “You ate more than your share of the raisins.”
“Do you want me to buy more?”
“No. Just remember you owe me.”
It took him several minutes to realize he had no reason to be grinning the way he was, especially since the film was actually quite serious.
“We don’t do this often enough,” Rich said as they left the cinema two hours later. He meant it, too. He’d been at loose ends for a couple of months but hadn’t thought about contacting Jamie. Now he wondered why.
“No, we don’t,” she agreed, buttoning her coat. She wore jeans and a pale pink sweater. The color looked good on her. He was about to say as much when he remembered the reason for his impromptu visit.
“How about a cup of coffee?” he suggested, linking his arm with hers. There was a coffee shop in the same complex as the theater, and he steered them in that direction.
He waited until they were seated and looking over their menus before he brought up the subject of Bill. “There’s someone at work I’d like you to meet.”
Jamie didn’t raise her eyes from the menu. “Who?”
“Bill Hastings. You’ll like him.”
“Is he tall, dark and handsome?”
“Yes. No and no.”
“Sounds like my kind of man,” she joked, setting aside the menu. The waitress filled their mugs with coffee and Jamie stirred in a liberal measure of cream. “From everything I’ve heard, it’s best to avoid the handsome ones.”
“Oh?” He could guess what was coming. He wasn’t conceited, but Rich knew he was easy on the eyes—a fact that hadn’t gone unnoticed from the time he was in his early teens. Rich had never lacked for female attention, some he’d sought and some he hadn’t.
“Yes,” she said. “The handsome ones can’t be trusted.”
“Who says?” Rich demanded, feigning outrage.
“Everyone,” Jamie returned without a pause. “They’re too impressed with themselves. Or so I hear.”
Rich chuckled and, motioning for the waitress, ordered a chef’s salad. He felt like having a decent meal for the first time in weeks. He didn’t even complain when Jamie stole his olives, claiming it was the least he could do for hogging the chocolate-covered raisins.
Tuesday morning, Bill marched into Rich’s office, pulled out a chair and plunked himself down. His face was creased with a heavy frown. “It didn’t work.”
Rich tried to figure out which project Bill was referring to and came up blank. They were both part of an engineering team working on a Boeing defense contract. Rich had volunteered for this job, knowing it would entail plenty of overtime hours. The challenge was something he needed at this point in his career—and his life.
“What do you mean?” he asked Bill.
“She turned me down flat.”
Bill couldn’t possibly be talking about Jamie. He’d paved the way for him! He’d managed to casually drop his name into the conversation at least three times. Enough to pique her curiosity, but not so often that she’d suspect he was setting them up.
“She turned you down?” Rich echoed, still unable to believe it. “Obviously you didn’t try all that hard.”
“If I’d tried any harder, I would’ve been arrested,” Bill muttered.
“What the hell did you say to her?”
“Nothing. I called her Saturday afternoon, just like you suggested. I mentioned your name right off and told her we worked together and have for several years. I wanted her to feel comfortable talking to me.” He hesitated as though he was still trying to understand what had gone wrong.
“Then what happened?” Rich could feel himself losing patience. He’d risked his brother’s wrath by giving up those tickets and he wasn’t about to let Bill off so easily.
“That’s just it. Nothing happened. We must’ve talked for ten or fifteen minutes and you’re right—she sounds nice. The more we talked, the more I realized I wouldn’t mind getting to know her. She said you two were on the yearbook staff together…. She even told me a few insider secrets about your glorious football days.”
“What the hell were you doing talking about me?” Rich demanded.
“I was establishing common ground.”
Rich brought one hand to his mouth in an effort to hide his irritation. “Go on.”
“There’s not much more to tell. After several minutes of chitchat, I asked her out to dinner. Honest, Rich, I was beginning to look forward to meeting her. I couldn’t have been more shocked when she turned me down.”
“What did she say?”
“Not much,” Bill admitted, his frown deepening. “Just that she’d given up dating and although she was sure I was a perfectly fine guy, she wasn’t interested.”
“You didn’t take that sitting down, did you?”
“Hell, no. I sent her a dozen roses Monday morning, hoping that would convince her. Red roses, expensive ones. I didn’t get them in any grocery store, either. These were flower shop roses, top quality.”
“And?”
“That didn’t do it, either. She phoned and thanked me, but said she still wasn’t interested. Said she felt bad that I’d gone to the expense of sending her flowers, though.”
Rich muttered under his breath. Bill had just encountered that stubborn pride of hers. Rich knew from experience that once she’d made up her mind, nothing was going to change it. Not flowers, not arguments, nothing.
Bill sighed unhappily. “You aren’t going to make me return the Seahawks tickets, are you?” he asked.
Two
Jamie was sitting at her kitchen table, reading the application from the adoption agency, when the doorbell rang. A long blast was immediately followed by three short, impatient ones. By the time she’d stood and walked to the door, whoever was on the other side was knocking loudly.
She checked the peephole. Rich. And from the look of him, he was furious. Unbolting the lock, she opened the door.
Without a word, he marched into the center of her living room, hands deep in the pockets of his full-length winter coat. Damn, but the man was attractive, Jamie noted, not for the first time. Much too handsome for his own good. His blue eyes were flashing, which only added to his appeal—even if they were flashing with annoyance,