The Matchmaker Bride

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The Matchmaker Bride Page 8

by Ginny Baird


  “Of course not.” She waved her slight hand. “I’m way over my cougaring stage.”

  …

  Derrick tugged on his jeans and a T-shirt and slipped into his boat shoes, considering his new arrival. Word sure had spread fast about his and Meredith’s “involvement.” All the way down to Miami, first to her parents and now to her aunt. She probably had cousins who knew, too. He peeked out his window, seeing only the one extra car. It looked like a rental. Whew.

  The media’s presumption that he and Meredith were engaged had led to some interesting situations. Not the least of which was Meredith staying here. Now it seemed her aunt wanted to move in, too. What did he look like? The owner of the Blue Hill B&B?

  Having Meredith here by herself wasn’t going to be easy. Now things were doubly complicated with her Titi Clarita on the scene. It was hard to imagine Clarita actually staying here—with the three of them constantly bumping into each other. His cabin wasn’t that big, and Meredith’s gigantic personality was already making it feel crowded.

  Derrick needed to come up with an alternate arrangement.

  He returned to the kitchen where Meredith and Clarita were having coffee at the table. They stopped talking the moment they saw him.

  “Mar—Eh, Meredith was telling me she’ll be here nine more days?” the older woman said.

  Derrick made himself a coffee using the machine on the counter. “That’s our agreed timeline.”

  “And this is all about your ex, Olivia?”

  “In part.” He set the coffee to brew. “The other part has to do with your niece’s goals.”

  “Hmm, yes. She told me.” Clarita set down her cup to stare at Meredith. “Are you sure this is worth it? The deception? The subterfuge?”

  “We’re not deceiving anyone—important.” Meredith swallowed hard. “And the press can believe what they want to until the second part of the story comes out.”

  Clarita appeared intrigued. “Second part?”

  Derrick grabbed his finished coffee and approached the table. “That’s when Olivia and I are supposedly back together, and Meredith gallantly explains to the world how she’s stepping back from our ‘relationship,’” he said, “out of respect for true love.”

  “And you expect to get a syndication deal out of this?” she asked Meredith.

  Meredith sat up a little straighter. “Yes, I do.”

  Nobody asked her opinion, but Clarita seemed prepared to offer it anyway. “Well, it seems to me that the two of you are playing with fire.”

  “Fire?” Derrick and Meredith asked at once. He’d started to pull back a chair so he could sit at the table, but halted halfway.

  “Sí, fuego,” Clarita said. “Too much bending of the truth and someone’s going to get burned.”

  Derrick dragged a hand down his face. “Hey,” he said to Meredith. “Maybe she’s right.”

  Meredith gave her aunt the side-eye. “Titi Clarita,” she whispered. “You’re not helping.”

  “Who says I’m not helping? Maybe I am, by stopping things from going any further.”

  “Ah, Derrick?” Meredith said. “Do you mind if I have a minute or two alone with my aunt?”

  He forced a tight smile, glad to be excising himself from their family squabble. “Take all the time that you need,” he said, gripping his mug. “I’ll just head out to my workshop for a bit.”

  “What time are we leaving?” Meredith asked him as he prepared to go. Before they’d left his grandparents’ house last night, they’d invited him and Meredith to return today for lunch. Sofia and William and their baby were expected late morning, so they would be there, too.

  “Twelve fifteen or so.” He cast a glance at Clarita. “You’re welcome to join us. I’m sure my Grandmother Margaret won’t mind. I can give her a call?”

  “Oh, wouldn’t that be nice?” Clarita asked and Meredith’s eyes grew wide.

  …

  When it was just the two of them, Meredith said to her aunt, “Okay. Now that you know the true story, don’t you think that you can go?”

  “Not until things are resolved, I can’t.” Clarita wasn’t just Meredith’s aunt, she was also her godmother, which had made her extra protective of Meredith. But Meredith was a grown-up now. She didn’t need Clarita looking after her.

  “You remember that boy in high school, eh? Adolfo? You said he was mysteriously secretive. I said he was a member of a gang.” She paused for emphasis. “And who was right?”

  “You were, but—”

  “Then there was that creeper in college.”

  “You mean my history professor?”

  “Sí. I told you he wasn’t asking you to be his class assistant because he admired your mind.”

  “Okay. Okay.” Meredith heaved a breath. “I managed to get out of that.”

  “Because you were forewarned and forearmed. When he asked you back to his house to grade tests you said no.”

  “Ew. Stop.”

  “And then, when you started in broadcasting, there was that producer—”

  “Okay, all right. I get it. But this situation now is like none of those. Derrick Albright’s one of the good guys.” She shifted in her seat. “I mean, apart from his big mouth and snarky attitude, he’s a decent guy. Not anything like those others you mentioned.”

  “I never said that he was.” Clarita looked her in the eye. “Who’s to say you’re not the one trying to take advantage?”

  “Me?”

  “Yes, you.”

  “But, my motives are—”

  “Self-serving?”

  “Pure. And really about helping Derrick.”

  “How do you know he even wants to get back together with his ex-wife?”

  “He would have kicked me out yesterday if that wasn’t true.”

  Clarita considered this. “Or maybe he is trying to help you?”

  Meredith scoffed. “Derrick is not that altruistic. Trust me.”

  Her aunt shook her head and sighed. “Okay, fine. If you’re right and he does want his ex-wife back, you think you can really do it? Reunite the two of them?”

  “I’ve united dozens of couples over the past four years. All of them great and happy matches. It’s true I won’t know one hundred percent about Derrick and Olivia until I see them together. But, once I do—and believe that destiny is there—I’ll find a way to help things along.”

  “Destiny, hmm.” Clarita leaned forward and patted her on the cheek. “That’s a sweet, idealistic thing to believe in.” Then she surprised Meredith by standing from her chair and heading for the door.

  Meredith grinned, a huge burden lifting. “You’re leaving?”

  “No,” she said. “Just getting my bag. I’ll want to freshen up before that luncheon.” She grinned while Meredith stared at her flummoxed. “I packed just the right clothes!”

  “Titi Clarita,” Meredith said. “You don’t want to stay here. Seriously. There are…” She glanced at the open sofa bed. “Limitations.”

  “Such as?”

  “Only one bed! I mean, Derrick has his back there, but his room is a pigsty. Seriously, you don’t want to even peek in there. You could get buried under an avalanche of dirty socks.”

  “What’s wrong with the sofa bed? It looks big enough for two.”

  “It’s uh—lumpy, and there are…bedbugs!”

  Clarita’s eyebrows twitched. “What?”

  “I was scratching all night long.”

  “Oh!” Her aunt rubbed her upper arms. “Gross.”

  “Yeah. Exactly.”

  Clarita grabbed the strap on her rolling suitcase, eying the sofa bed with trepidation. “So, the bathroom’s that way?” She looked very eager to get there.

  “Uh—do you mind if I grab a shower first?” Meredith asked, because she wanted to make herself
more presentable for a private chat with Derrick. Maybe he could help her figure out a polite way to get rid of her aunt. Surely, he didn’t want Clarita hanging around and cramping his style. He evidently had trouble tolerating one person in her family. Meredith couldn’t picture him eagerly entertaining two. “I’ll be really, really fast!”

  Chapter Ten

  While her aunt was taking her turn in the bathroom, Meredith slipped into an animal print top and some white leggings, then hunted for her lowest pair of heels in her suitcase. She found her platform sandals with shimmering gold straps. They were cute enough and would have to do. Plus, they matched her dangly gold leaf earrings, which were more visible with her hair twisted into a topknot. It was a casual look, but probably about right for lunch. The Albrights didn’t stand on formality—apart from three-piece-suit Grandpa Chad. And, underneath all that tweed, he was about as relaxed as they come.

  She exited the cabin onto the deck to find puffy white clouds hanging high in the blue sky above. Sunshine glistened on the water and Derrick’s rowboat tilted lazily in the breeze, bobbing back and forth on the waves. A ramshackle outbuilding stood on a patch of land to the far side of the gravel drive. She hadn’t seen it before as she’d parked closer to the cabin and it was tucked behind some bayberry hedges.

  The whir of an electric saw caught her ears, punctuating the sound of morning songbirds with its shrill whine. Derrick was apparently in there working on something and she was curious to learn what. Maybe another boat of some sort, although the man appeared to have plenty.

  One side of the outbuilding was an open area covered by a slanted tin roof. She counted two kayaks, a canoe, and a small sunfish-style sailboat beneath it. Only the canoe appeared wooden and perhaps handmade. The others seemed to be right out of an outrigger’s store and crafted from fiberglass. Meredith stepped off the deck and the saturated ground squished beneath her feet. Ugh. It had rained buckets last night and now the whole lawn was soaked.

  She peered toward Derrick’s workshop where the saw still buzzed. There was no walkway leading to it or even a simple path. Only a slightly more worn spot in the grass, indicating Derrick’s normal trajectory between there and the cabin. Meredith shook out her shoulders and headed that way, her shoes sinking lower in the soggy earth with each new step.

  Squish, squish—ew! This was disgusting. And now, nasty cold mud had seeped between her toes. It was too late to turn back now. She might as well get this over with and clean up later. She didn’t want to change her pants, though, so she walked extra carefully so as not to cause any mud splatter, her elbows held high at her sides for balance.

  “Hi there.” Her chin jerked up and she saw Derrick standing on the threshold to his workshop, the door open behind him. He had goggles pushed up on the top of his head and appeared amused. “Just…what are you doing?”

  “Coming out to talk to you,” she said, mildly irritated. Both at his smug look and the mud, which—noooo—had just flicked tiny brown spots onto her lower pants legs. “What does it look like?”

  He repressed a chuckle, annoying her further. “Um. Taking a mud bath?”

  “Ever think of putting in a path?” she asked, getting closer.

  “Ever think of not lying on television?”

  Meredith twisted up her lips and stepped onto the small stoop outside his workshop door. “I thought we were past that.”

  “All right.” He inched back, allowing her entry to the building. “Come on in.”

  “My shoes.”

  This time he laughed out loud, but in a good-hearted way. “This is a workshop, Mer. Not the Taj Mahal,” he said, removing his goggles and hanging them on a hook. “A little more mud on the floor won’t affect anything.”

  “What I meant was they’re probably ruined.”

  “Your sandals won’t wash?”

  “I can try, but they’re pretty high end.”

  “Designer? Hmm.” He studied her feet, which were caked in mud. “Maybe you should have worn something more sensible.”

  “This is the most sensible pair I’ve got.”

  “Meaning the flattest?” he asked, studying the platform soles. “Okay,” he said. “Noted.”

  What had he meant by that? Was he judging her?

  He shrugged. “So, do you want to come in, or are you just planning to stand there in your ruined shoes?”

  “Oh uh, sure.” She needed to talk to him about her aunt and about their argument last night, too, but she decided to ease into it. Besides, she was curious to see what he’d been working on out here in his private little workshop.

  Meredith dusted off her palms and entered the surprisingly roomy space, discovering it wasn’t so little after all. The oblong room contained a couple of windows facing the woods on the far side, and both were cracked open. A workbench stood between them and a pegboard above it held all types of clamps and tools. Titi Clarita’s second husband, Raul, had done a little woodworking, so she recognized some of the pieces.

  A table saw sat on one side of the workbench and a huge miter saw on a folding stand lorded over the center of the room. A series of wooden planks of various lengths leaned against one wall, and the hull of a canoe balanced on two sawhorses near another.

  “Wow,” Meredith said. “This is quite a place.”

  “Thanks. I call it home.”

  “I thought your cabin was home.”

  “Nope.” He fondly patted his workbench. “That’s this place here.”

  She couldn’t help but smile at his relaxed stance. Derrick seemed like a different person out here. Really in his element, surrounded by his projects and sawdust. That was easy to see.

  “What are you working on?” she asked, noting several cut pieces of wood leaned up against the miter saw stand.

  “This?” He hoisted a rectangular piece into his hands, appearing pleased that she’d asked. “Is the base of a cradle.”

  “Cradle?”

  “It’s for Julia.”

  The thought that he was making something for a baby unexpectedly melted her heart. She never would have imagined this of him. A boat, yeah. A cradle? Never. She examined the piece again, noting the wood’s reddish-brown sheen. “Is this mahogany?”

  Derrick grinned. “Cherry.”

  “Nice.”

  He flipped it over, showing her its underside. “The headboard and footboard will fit in on either end and this is where the slats will go.” He indicated the narrow slots with his forefinger and Meredith’s insides went gushy. A tough guy like him making a cradle revealed he had a softer side. It also showed he thought of others, and loved his little niece. This was a new element of Derrick she hadn’t expected, and it made her wonder what else she’d missed.

  He turned the flat piece back over and gently set it down, standing it on one end. “I’m going to have it done in time for the christening.”

  “How sweet. I didn’t even know people used cradles anymore.”

  “They’re not very practical,” Derrick said, “since they can only be used the first five or six months. But I’m building this one with nice high sides, and installing a lock on the rockers as a safety feature. Everything will be to code.”

  “Code?”

  “Up to all the modern safety standards.” He smiled and she could tell he was thinking about his niece. “Can’t take chances with my family.”

  Meredith didn’t know what to say. She was blown away by his kindness and skill. She was also privately embarrassed for how harshly she’d judged him. But she should have known better. Nobody was all one-sided. She’d learned that in her work by helping those multidimensional clients of hers.

  “We all used a cradle growing up,” he said. “My brothers and sister and me. My dad had one as a baby, too. It’s been sort of an Albright tradition, and—so far—we’ve turned out okay.”

  It occurred to Meredith th
at he’d turned out more than okay. Even though he took massive pains to hide it with his blustering and bravado.

  “You wanted to see me about something?” he asked, getting back to business.

  “Ah, yeah. It’s about my aunt.”

  “Bet that was a surprise.”

  “You have no idea.”

  His blue eyes twinkled. “I think I have an inkling.”

  “Derrick,” she pleaded. “You have to help me think up a way to get rid of her.”

  “She looked like she was intending to stay. Judging by the suitcase.”

  “Yeah, but she can’t stay here. There’s barely room for the two of us.”

  “True.” Derrick scratched his chin. “Maybe she can stay with my grandparents?”

  “What?”

  “In the guest cottage.”

  “What about the rest of your family? Aren’t they coming in?”

  “There are four bedrooms on the second floor of the main house and three additional ones on the third floor.”

  It was true. His grandparents’ summer place was massive. “Oh right. I forgot.”

  “I’m sure my grandparents wouldn’t mind having her stay through the weekend.”

  “No, but I would.”

  He chuckled at her consternation. “She might even be a help.”

  “A help? How?”

  “I was figuring Olivia could stay in the guesthouse, too. If your aunt stays there with her, she can help put in a good word for me. Maybe even run intel back here.”

  The idea was intriguing. Would Clarita go for it? “I don’t know. She’s supposed to be supervising us.”

  “There is no ‘us.’” His eyes glinted playfully and Meredith’s heart pinged. “Remember?”

  “Uh, yep.” She licked her lips, which felt extra dry. Of course there was no her and Derrick. There never would be. She’d blatantly said as much when she’d mouthed off to him last night. No doubt that suited him fine. Just like it suited her. “I meant from her perspective.”

  “Which has already been cleared up. But if you’d rather your Titi Clarita stay here and bunk on the pull-out with you, I’m cool with that, too.”

  “No.” Meredith shook her head. “Your first idea was better.” She thought about how Clarita was into luxury. “My aunt will love those digs. Once she sees them, I’m sure she’d much prefer staying there than here, where there are bedbugs.”

 

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