Meet Your Mate

by Donna Michaels

  "They are,” Brielle reassured, then catching Mandy's puzzled expression she rushed to add, “I'm sure.” Dang it, Jack! He had her acting like a rookie again.

  "I hope they like me.” Sadness entered Mandy's blue eyes. “I don't stand a chance with Matthew. He's going to pick you for sure."

  "Oh, Mandy, you don't know that.” She cupped the girl's shoulder and looked her in the eyes. “You're beautiful."

  "Yeah, but look at you with your hair all long and curly. And that dress! It's to die for.” She waved her hand up and down, eyeing the white haltered-scarf dress with pale aqua tips the producers had supplied Brielle. “You look stunning."

  "Thanks, Mandy, but don't sell yourself short. I know Matthew's going to pick you in the end.” Brielle squeezed the woman's shoulder.

  Mandy's face lit up. “You think so? How do you know?"

  "Let's just say, I have a gut feeling.” Too bad the one tightening her stomach wasn't as happy. No, this feeling had an ominous bite.

  Shivering, she ran her hands over her bare shoulders. Something big was going to happen tonight.

  "Here we are. Time to meet the parents,” Bill said, ushering them through the double doors into the Gathering Room before they had time to blink.

  Mr. and Mrs. Anderson and their sons stood talking by the corner bar. All heads turned in their direction when they entered.

  Brielle's heart skidded to a halt. Dressed in a black tuxedo, Jack had one hand in his pocket, while the other held a drink that paused in midair when he spotted her. His gaze widened.

  Pain, longing and regret shot through his eyes before a guarded expression claimed his face. Brielle blinked, her pulse returning to normal after the initial connection.

  What had happened to the hostility and betrayed look? Had Matthew been right? It'd only been a few days. Did Jack no longer regard her as one of society's sores? Or was he just being polite because of his parents?

  Probably the latter, she reasoned, but it didn't matter. Her grip tightened on her small beaded purse, the Glock hidden inside firm under her fingers, reminding her this was a case, not a date. She summoned a fake smile and followed his lead.

  "Wow! You both look stunning. I'm the luckiest man.” Matthew set his glass on the bar and rushed forward to embrace them each separately. “It's hard to believe this journey is almost over."

  "Yes, I was just saying that to Brielle.” Mandy returned his smile, her face flushed.

  The way they stared at each other, Brielle got the impression that if the rest of the room's occupants disappeared, they'd never notice.

  A pang resembling envy hit her heart. She brushed it aside and lifted her chin.

  "Matthew? Aren't you going to introduce us?” Sophia spoke up.

  "Yes, of course. Sorry, Mom.” He guided them toward the bar, his eyes bright. “Mom, Dad, this is Mandy.” He waited while his parents kissed Mandy's cheek in greeting. “And this is Brielle."

  Not bothering to look at Jack, she greeted his parents as if for the first time, murmuring pleasantries and thank-yous accordingly.

  "Jack, why don't you get these pretty ladies something to drink so we can sit down and chat?” His mother glanced at him.

  "Of course.” He looked at Mandy. “What would you like?"

  "I'll have a Slow Screw, please.” The blonde smiled, unaware of the difficulty she'd caused everyone to keep from laughing. Then mistaking Jack's dazed look as one of ignorance, she went on to explain in a patient voice. “You just have to add sloe gin to vodka and orange juice. I would've asked for Sex On The Beach, but I figured you didn't know how.” She seemed to think he needed clarification. “To make it, I mean."

  Brielle was in trouble. If she looked at Jack, she'd lose it, if she looked at Matthew, she'd lose it, and if she even entertained the thought of looking at the Andersons, she'd have to leave the room like the crew members rushing toward the hallway.

  Not afforded that luxury, Brielle did the next best thing. Placing her purse on the bar she moved Jack out of her way. “Don't mind me. I'll just help myself to some white wine, while you give Mandy her Slow Screw.” Smiling at his grunt, she poured a hefty dose, took a sip, then joined his parents.

  "Brielle.” His mother grasped her hand. “Why don't you and Matthew come sit with me and get acquainted, while Matthew's father and brother get to know Mandy. Then we can switch."

  "Sure.” Brielle allowed Mrs. Anderson to lead her across the room to settle on a pair of couches out of earshot.

  Sophia spoke first. “Brielle, please tell me that adorable woman over there is no threat to my son."

  She glanced into Matthew's anxious eyes, then back at Sophia. “I haven't found any evidence to tie Mandy to the threats,” she said honestly.

  "Yes!” Matthew smiled from the couch across from her.

  "But?” Sophia stared at her. “What aren't you saying, my dear?"

  "That I haven't found evidence to point to anyone else, either.” She sighed, placing her wine on the coffee table. “I'm sorry, but I can't give a definite answer."

  Matthew leaned forward, clasping his hands together as his forearms rested on his knees. “Well, I don't think she's done any of it. My gut says she's innocent."

  "What does your gut say, Brielle?” Sophia asked the one question Brielle had hoped to avoid.

  She wanted to leave her gut out of this. Glancing across to the bar, she watched Jack answer his cell phone and leave the room. “My gut may be out of order. I'm not sure it's working."

  "It's because of Jack, isn't it?” Sophia squeezed her hands.

  How did she know about them? Brielle looked to Matthew. Had he told his mother?

  "Don't look at me.” He smiled, holding his hands up. “I didn't say a word."

  "It wasn't him, sweetheart,” Sophia said softly. Brielle looked at the woman and frowned. “Don and I watched some of the security footage with Franco.” Her fingers tightened on Brielle's hand. “We saw the two of you dancing on the yacht."

  Brielle couldn't decide which was worse—the embarrassment brewing in her stomach or the sadness of losing Jack's trust the day after that dance.

  Swallowing, she lifted her head. She was a professional. This was about Mandy, not Jack.

  "I'm sorry, Brielle. I can't help but feel responsible.” Sophia caught her off-guard again. “When I made you promise not to tell Jack, I didn't foresee the two of you getting together."

  She needed to get off this subject before the tears heating her throat found their way to her eyes. Would the pain ever go away? She swallowed again, then laughed at the woman's next words.

  "My son's being Jack-The-Donkey again.” Sophia shook her head. “He has a hard time with trust, but I know he'll come around to you. Please don't give up on him."

  Swallowing a third time, Brielle nodded.

  "That's what I told her.” Matthew smiled encouragingly. “Although, I think my words were a little more colorful than Jack-The-Donkey."

  "That doesn't surprise me.” His mother shook her head. “So, now that we know your gut is working, Brielle, what does it tell you about Mandy?"

  She looked at the blonde, laughing up into Jack's amused face as he returned to the bar. “It tells me she's hiding something, but she isn't the one causing the threats."

  "That's wonderful!” Matthew closed his eyes and leaned back.

  Brielle turned to him and frowned. “Did you hear me, Matthew? She's hiding something."

  "I know.” He smiled at her, happiness alive in his eyes. “But I trust Mandy. Whatever she's hiding, I'll deal with it."

  Envy tightened her still-swollen throat. Her gaze locked with Jack's. What she wouldn't give to hear him say that to her.

  He frowned, his eyes searching hers, delving deep inside and stopping her heart. She knew what he sought—trust. The one thing she couldn't give to him. He had to find it within himself to trust her. She dropped his gaze.

  Until he did, they had no future together.

  Refocusing
on Matthew, she lifted her glass. “Here's to our trip to San Francisco tomorrow. I could use a change of scenery."

  "Yes, and I promise no donkeys or horses while we're there.” He chuckled and clinked her glass with his.

  "I can live with that.” She turned to his mother. “Well, I guess we should probably switch now."

  Sophia nodded, and they rose to their feet. “I'm glad to hear you don't suspect Mandy. It sets my mind at ease.” The woman kissed her cheek and smiled. “Thank you, Brielle. I know this has been a difficult job."

  "You're welcome, but I want you to know that if this case isn't solved by Monday night, I'm not quitting until it is."

  "Thank you, Brielle.” Sophia nodded.

  "Hang in there,” Matthew said when she bent to retrieve her glass from the coffee table.

  Drowning her snort with a sip of wine, she headed toward the others and pasted a smile on her lips as Jack's eyes followed her approach.

  "Mandy, they're ready for you over there.” She met the blonde's nervous look with what she hoped was a reassuring gaze.

  "Okay. It was nice talking to you,” Mandy said to Mr. Anderson, then headed across the room, her half-finished drink in hand.

  "I guess you make ... I guess you give...” Brielle paused to find the correct phrase as she looked at Jack. “You're a good bartender."

  "Yeah, he must be. That's Mandy's second one,” Don said.

  Brielle gulped her wine and ordered her funny bone not to respond. It didn't listen. With her emotions and anxiety making her silly, she looked at Jack and opened her mouth.

  "Don't say it, Brielle,” he warned, his blue eyes torn between amusement and annoyance.

  That made it worse. Her lips burned to speak. Hoping a change of subject would be the cure, she sipped her wine and turned to his father. “So, did my uncle tell you anything to pass on to me?"

  "Yes, as a matter of fact, he did.” Don set his glass down to pull a notepad from his pocket. “Franco said the results on the fingerprint you lifted from the monitor were his."

  She shook her head in disgust. “Shoot. We never catch a break. What about the fingerprint on my dresser?"

  Mr. Anderson's eyebrows furrowed as he looked at his notes. “That turned out to be ... Carla's."

  Brielle sighed. “That's not surprising since she was sent up there to get my bathing suit the other day."

  "What's going on? When did you get these prints?” Jack's gaze bounced between them.

  "While you were in Aspen, enjoying the snow. The crew and I went through both mansions—found a few prints but nothing else.” She leaned her hip against the bar and turned to his father. “What about the audio feed? Did Uncle Franco get that cleaned up?"

  "Feed from what?” Jack frowned.

  "From the bugs I planted on the yacht,” she said, keeping her voice neutral. “There were some questionable noises in the lounge earlier on the day we played that card game, but I couldn't make it out."

  His chin lifted. Surprise, then admiration filled his eyes. Her heart tripped. She'd gotten used to the guarded look. What did she do with this one? They stared at each other a moment before his gaze lowered to his drink.

  "Franco said to tell you it was Matthew.” Don's voice grabbed her attention, “and that the Jet Ski was clean.” He glanced at the notepad, then put it away. “That's it."

  "Wonderful, nothing.” She finished her wine. Why did they keep hitting these dead ends? She placed her glass on the bar by Jack's arm. “Back to square one."

  "This is getting out of hand,” he said, refilling her glass. “I'll be glad when this damn show is over. Then I can do some straight work and not have to stop to please producers."

  She held her glass up in a mock toast. “I heard that. Monday can't come soon enough.” Fighting a sigh, she sipped her wine, then glanced at Jack and blinked. His intense stare dried her mouth. He looked as if he ... he didn't want to see her go. She took another sip.

  "So, Brielle, were you bored while we were in Aspen?” Matthew asked from behind.

  Turning, she watched him approach with his mother and Mandy on each arm. “Yes. I was bored out of my skull,” she lied through a smile.

  "What did you do?” He asked, depositing his mother at his father's side, while keeping Mandy's hand firmly on his arm.

  "I watched a lot of video,” she replied with a grin. Way too much video. She took another sip.

  "Oh? Did you watch Jack's pirate movie?” Mandy's blue eyes rounded.

  The wine burned a new path down Brielle's throat. She coughed and after regaining the ability to speak, she glanced at Jack. “I wasn't aware he was in one."

  "Yeah, I made several. Maybe you've heard of them?” He smiled, refilling his mother's glass. “Jack the Shipper, Jack's Revenge, and my personal favorite, The Empire Strikes Jack."

  They all laughed except for Mandy. Her eyes grew wide. “I didn't know you made three? Why didn't someone tell me? Danni told me you didn't make any."

  Sobering, they looked at each other, silently deciding who should clue the girl in when Bill spoke up from the cluster of production people off camera.

  "It's time for dinner,” he announced, waiting for them to move.

  Grabbing her purse from the bar, Brielle fell into step behind Matthew and Mandy and could feel Jack's presence as he followed her from the room. Her body heated. Need and longing combusted, spreading like wildfire until cold reality doused the newfound flames. She knew better than to read anything into his non-hostile behavior. They had a lot to talk about before heat came into play. She groaned inwardly. Not the best choice of words to keep her libido cool.

  "If you'll have a seat, the food will be brought out shortly,” Bill told them before settling out of view.

  Candlelight set a romantic mood, flickering from one of the smaller oval tables, adorned with white linen and fresh roses.

  "I hope everyone's hungry.” Matthew pulled out one of the six chairs for Mandy, while Jack seated her across from the blonde and next to his mother.

  Brielle glanced up to thank him and caught his unguarded expression.

  Regret.

  She blinked, not expecting to see that emotion up close. He opened his mouth as if to say something, then closed it again. His hooded gaze blew her fluttering heart right into a brick wall.

  Damn it, Jack Anderson! Why did you keep sending me mixed signals?

  Fighting back tears, she set her purse next to Sophia's on the table next and watched Jack take his seat between his parents. Emotions bubbled into a tremor, and she hid her trembling under the action of shaking out her napkin and placing it on her lap.

  She wondered if she could feign a headache to get out of dinner. Feign? She rubbed her temple and grimaced. There'd be no feigning. Her head already ached.

  Whatever happened to the unruffled professional, Brielle Chapman? She glanced at Jack and swallowed. Seems this show produced a former Ranger capable of knocking the no-nonsense out of her.

  Several white-jacketed servers carrying covered dishes entered through the swinging kitchen door. Their arrival eased her ache. At least now she had something else to concentrate on.

  "Mmm, smells good.” Mandy smiled at the men.

  The aroma of chicken filled Brielle's nostrils as a server placed hers and Sophia's dishes on the table and, with a flourish, lifted their lids to reveal chicken cordon bleu with a topping of live frog.

  The startled server dropped the lids and stepped back, while Brielle and Sophia jumped to their feet.

  "Ack,” Mandy screamed, spilling her drink as she scurried from the table. “Ah, great. Now I have to go wash this off."

  "What's going on here?” Don frowned, looking at the table of frogs.

  "I doubt it's a new delicacy.” Brielle lunged for the airborne amphibian sailing toward Sophia's slight frame. She held the frog up to look into his bulging eyes. “At least, not in this state."

  "Eww.” Sophia grimaced, backing further from the table.

&nb
sp; "Brielle, what are you doing? They may be poisonous,” Jack growled, his face full of concern.

  Warmed by that sentiment, she smiled. “Relax, Jack. They're just common tree frogs.” Removing the roses from the centerpiece with one hand, she dropped the creature inside. “They're harmless. In fact, we're more harm to them.” She caught two more, marveling at their slick feel as she released them into the vase. “The oils on our skin aren't good for them."

  "How do you know all this?” Matthew asked, managing to smile and frown at the same time.

  "I worked at Bob's Reptile Land after school and on weekends.” She bent to save another frog from the perils of the floor. That job hadn't crossed her mind in years. Creatures like these had filled the void after she lost her parents. They needed her, depended on her, and Brielle thrived on their reliance. It instilled her insatiable need to help people.

  "Is there anything that scares you?” Jack's hand skimmed hers as he placed the remaining two frogs in the vase.

  She straightened and smiled. “Well, had these been spiders, not even a crow bar would've pried me from that chandelier.” She pointed to the elaborate crystal formation above them.

  "I see.” He returned her smile and gave her hope. She stared at him, willing him to say something yet half afraid to hear the words.

  "Well, that's all of them. I wonder how they got there,” Matthew said, breaking the spell.

  Jack blinked, then transferred his gaze to the nearest server. “Good question. Do you mind explaining what the hell happened to dinner?” He folded his arms. “Well?"

  "I ... I ... don't know,” the man cried. “I was just told to take a plate and serve it."

  She glanced around the room. Mr. and Mrs. Anderson stood talking. The production crew scratched their heads and the servers looked confused.

  Matthew turned to the kitchen. “Where's the cook? I would like a word with him."

  "Me, too.” Jack's face darkened.

  "What's all the commotion?” The chef rushed into the room, then stopped dead at the sight of his unfinished dishes and frogs swimming in the table's centerpiece. “My meal! What happened to my meal?” He cried, grabbing his head as he stepped toward the table.