by Shirley Jump
“Gotta wow her right off,” Dan said.
“I must have missed the memo.”
Dan chuckled. “You’re just a little jaded right now.”
“Not jaded. More...realistic about my strengths. I’m good at business, not good at relationships. End of story.”
“Hey, you’re preaching to the choir here,” Dan said. “I’m the king of bad at relationships, or at least I used to be. You live and you learn, and hopefully stop making the mistakes that screwed up your last relationship.”
Which was the one skill Jack had yet to master. When it came to businesses and bottom lines, he could shift gears and learn from the past. But with other people...not so much. Maybe it was because he had gone too many years trying to prove himself to a father who didn’t love him or appreciate him. Jack had kept striving for a connection that never existed. That made him either a glutton for punishment or a fool. “Or just avoid relationships all together.”
Dan chuckled. “What are you going to do? Become a monk?”
“I don’t know. Think they’re taking applications?” Jack grinned. Nah, he wouldn’t become a monk, but he wasn’t at a point in his life where he wanted or needed a committed relationship.
He was trying to buckle down and do the right thing where Knight Enterprises was concerned. Juggling yet another commitment seemed like an impossible task. Deep down inside, he worried more about getting too close to a woman. He’d screwed things up with Tanya, and had plenty of relationship detritus in his past to prove his lack of commitment skills. He had been his father’s son in business—and a part of Jack wondered if he’d be his son in a marriage, too. The easiest course—keep his head down and his focus on work. Rather than try to fix the one part of his life that had been impossible to repair.
“When do I have time to date?” Jack said. “I barely have enough spare time to order a pizza.”
Except he had found plenty of time to think and wonder about Marnie. His wandering mind had set him a good day behind on his To Do list. He really needed to focus, not daydream. By definition, the sassy matchmaker believed in destiny and true love and all of that. Jack, well, Jack hadn’t been good at either of those.
“Aw, you meet Miss Right and you’ll change your tune,” Dan said. “Like me. Helen has me rethinking this whole love in the later years concept.”
“All that from one meeting?”
“I told you, she’s a special lady. When you know, you know.”
Jack would argue with that point. He’d never had that all-encompassing, couldn’t-talk-about-anything-else feeling for a woman before.
Well, that was, until he met Marnie. She’d stuck in his mind like bubble gum, sweet, delicious, addictive. Maybe Dan had a point. But in the end, Jack still sucked at relationships and pursuing Marnie Franklin could only end with a broken heart. But that didn’t stop him from wanting her or wondering about her. And why her attitude toward him had done a sudden 180.
Had his reputation preceded him? Had he hurt her somehow, too, in the years he’d worked with his father? Jack decided to do a little research in the morning and see if there was a connection. A memory nagged in the back of his head, but didn’t take hold.
Jack pulled in front of the renovated brownstone where he lived, a building much like himself—filled with unique character, a speckled history, but still a little rough around the edges.
While his stepfather headed off—whistling—to the shower, Jack grabbed a bag of chips, taking them out to the balcony. He scrolled through his phone, past the endless stream of emails and voice mails. Work called to him, a non-stop siren of demands. On any other day, he’d welcome the distraction and challenges. But not today. Today, he just wanted to sit back, enjoy the sunshine and think about the choices he’d made.
Maybe his stepfather had a point. Maybe it was time to date again, to make a serious commitment to something other than a cell phone plan and a profit and loss statement. He’d been working for two years to make up for the past, and still it hadn’t fulfilled him like he thought it would. Nor had it eased the guilt that haunted his nights. It was as if he was missing something, some key that would bring it all together. Or maybe Dan was right and Jack needed to open his heart, too. A monumental task, and one he had never tackled successfully before.
He took a chip, the fragile snack crumbling in his hand, and thought maybe he was a fool for believing in things that could crumble at any moment.
CHAPTER THREE
AS SOON AS her mother left on her date with Dan that night, the condo echoed. Empty, quiet. Helen had been at Marnie’s house for the better part of the afternoon, indulging in a lot of mother-daughter chatting and taking a whirl through Marnie’s closet to borrow a fun, flirty dress. Helen’s contagious verve had Marnie in stitches, laughing until her sides hurt. But once Ma was gone, the mood deflated and reality intruded.
Marnie tried working, gave up, and gathered her planner and laptop into a big tote and headed out the door. Five minutes later, she was sweating on a treadmill at the gym near her house. It had been weeks since she’d had time for a good workout and as the beats drummed in her head, and the cardio revved up her heart, the stresses of the day began to melt away.
Someone got on the treadmill beside her, but Marnie didn’t notice for a few seconds. As she passed the three-mile mark, she pressed the speed button, slowing her pace to a fast walk. Her breath heaved in and out of her chest, but in a good way, giving her that satisfaction of a hard job done well.
“You’re making me feel like a couch potato.”
She swiveled her head to the right, and saw Jack Knight, doing an easy jog on the other treadmill. Her hand reached up, unconsciously brushing away the sweat on her brow and giving her bangs a quick swipe. Damn. She should have put on some makeup or lip gloss or something. Then she cursed herself for caring how she looked. She wasn’t interested in Jack Knight or what he thought about her, all sweaty and messy. Not one bit.
Then why did her gaze linger on his long, defined legs, his broad chest? Why did she notice the way the simple gray T and dark navy shorts he wore gave him a casual, sexy edge? Why did her heart skip a beat when he smiled at her? And why did her hormones keep ignoring the direct orders from her brain?
“I’m impressed.” He glanced at the digital display on her treadmill. “Great pace, nice distance.”
“Thanks.” She took her pace down another notch, and pressed the cool down button. “Are you a member at this gym? I’ve never seen you here before.”
“That’s because most of the time, I’m here in the middle of the night, after I finally leave the office for the day. At that time, I have the whole place pretty much to myself.”
She gave him a quizzical look. “I thought the gym closes at ten.”
“It does. I have...special privileges.” He broke into a light jog, arms moving, legs flexing. His effortless run caused a modest uptick in his breathing, leaving Marnie the one now impressed. She’d have been huffing and puffing by now.
“Let me guess,” she said. “A cute girl at the front desk gave you a key?”
“Nope. My key comes from one of the owners.”
“You?”
“I don’t own it,” he said. “I have a...vested interest in this gym. One of my high school friends bought it, and when he was struggling, he needed an investor, so I stepped in.”
“You did?” She tried to keep the surprise from her voice, but didn’t quite make it. “That’s really...nice.”
Not the kind of thing she expected from Jack Knight, evil corporate raider. He’d saved the gym owned by his friend, but not her father’s business. Did he only help friends? And let a stranger’s businesses fall to pieces? Or was there a nice guy buried deep inside him?
Or were there a few things she hadn’t accepted about her father’s company and his role i
n its demise?
A part of Marnie had always avoided looking too close at the details, because keeping them at bay let her keep her focus on Knight as the evil conglomerate at fault. But deep down inside Marnie knew her affable, distracted, creative father wasn’t the best businessman in the world. Helen refused to talk about it, refused to open those “dark doors” as she called them, to the past. And right now, right here, Marnie didn’t want to open them either.
Jack leaned over, the scent of soap and man filling the space between them and sending that zing through Marnie all over again. “See? I told you, I’m not as bad as you think I am.”
Her face heated. She reached for the hand towel on the treadmill and swiped at her cheeks, then took a deep gulp of water from her water bottle. “I never said you were a horrible person.”
Out loud.
“You didn’t have to. It was in the way you drove away from the restaurant earlier and in your stinging rejection of my invitation to coffee.” He bumped up the speed on his treadmill and increased his jog pace, his arms moving in concert with his legs. “And it was just coffee, Marnie, not a lifetime commitment.”
He was right. A cup of coffee with a handsome man wasn’t a crime.
Except this handsome man was Jack Knight, who had destroyed her father’s company in one of his “investments.” She doubted he even realized what he had done to her family, and how that loss had hurt all of them in more than just Tom Franklin’s bank account.
She opened her mouth to tell him what she really thought of him, then stopped herself. That urge to keep the peace resurged, coupled with a burst of protectiveness. If Marnie lashed out at Jack, the conversation would get back to Dan and her mother. She had yet to tell her mother who Dan really was, unable to bring herself to wipe that smile off Helen’s face, to hurt her mother or disappoint her. Somehow, she had to tell her the truth, though, and do it soon.
Wouldn’t it be smart to go into that conversation armed with information? And the best way to gather information without the other party suspecting? Dine with the enemy.
Maybe her father hadn’t been businessman of the year, but she knew as well as she knew her own name that Knight Enterprises had been part of the company’s downfall, too. If she could figure out how and why, then she could go to her mother and warn her away from Dan. Maybe then both Franklin women would have closure...and peace.
“You know, you’re right. It’s not a lifetime commitment,” she said before she could think twice. “I’ll take you up on your coffee offer.”
He arched a brow in surprise, and turned toward her, but didn’t slow his pace. “Where and when?”
“As soon as you finish your run. If that works for you.”
Jack glanced at the time remaining on the treadmill’s display and nodded. “Sounds good. How about if I meet you up front in twenty minutes?”
Enough time for her to hit the locker room and get cleaned up. Not that she cared what she looked like with Jack Knight, of course. It was merely because she was going out in public.
As she stepped into the shower and washed up, she second guessed her decision. Getting close to Jack Knight could be dangerous on a dozen different levels. A matchmaker knew better than to put Romeo and Juliet together—and especially not enemies like her and Jack. She had no business seeing him, dating him, or even thinking about either.
She still remembered her father’s heartbreak, how he had become a shell of the man he used to be, sitting at home, purposeless, waiting for a miracle that never came. His life’s work, gone in an instant. And all because of Jack Knight.
The last of the lather went down the shower drain. She’d have coffee with Jack, and in the process, maybe find a way to exact a little revenge for how he had let her father fail, rather than help the struggling businessman succeed.
What was that they said about revenge? That it was a dish best served cold? Well, this one was going to be rich, dark and steaming hot.
* * *
Seventeen minutes later, Jack stood in the lobby of the health club, showered, changed, and his heart beating a mile a minute. He told himself it was from the hard, short run on the treadmill, but he knew better. There was something about Marnie Franklin that intrigued him in ways he hadn’t been intrigued in a hell of a long time.
Her smile, for one. It lit her green eyes, danced in her features, seemed to brighten the room.
Her sass, for another. Marnie was a woman who could clearly give as good as she got, and that was something he didn’t often find.
Her love/hate for him, for a third. He knew attraction, and could swear she’d been attracted to him when they first met. Then somewhere along the way, she’d started to dislike him. Yet at the same time, she seemed to war with those two emotions.
He had done some preliminary research before he hit the gym, but his files were filled with Franklins, a common enough last name. Then it hit him.
Tom Franklin.
A printer, with a small shop in Boston. Nice guy, but such a muddled, messy businessman that Jack had at first balked when his father asked him to take on Top Notch Printing as a client. He hadn’t realized at the time what his father’s real plan was—
Well, maybe he had, and hadn’t wanted to accept the truth. Buy up the company for pennies on the dollar, to pave the way for a big-dollar competitor moving into town, another branch of the Knight investment tree. Within weeks, Tom Franklin had been out of business.
Oh, damn. If Marnie was that Franklin, Jack had a hell of a lot to make up for. And no idea how to do it. Jack’s memory told him that none of Tom’s daughters had been named Marnie, though, so he couldn’t be sure. Maybe it was all some kind of weird coincidence.
Just then Marnie came down the hall, wearing a navy and white striped skirt that swooshed around her knees, and a bright yellow blouse that offset the deep red of her hair. She had on flats, which was a change from the heels he’d seen her in before, but on Marnie, they looked sweet, cute. Her skin still had that dewy just showered look, and like the other two times he’d seen her, she’d put her hair back in a clip that left a few stray tendrils curling along her neck. The whole effect was...devastating. His fingers itched to see what it would take to get her to let her hair down, literally and figuratively. To see Marnie Franklin unfettered, wild, sexy.
“Where are we going?” she asked. “There’s that chain coffee shop—”
He shook his head. “I’m not exactly a decaf venti kind of guy. When I want coffee, I want just that. So, the question is—” at this he took a step closer to her, telling himself it was just to catch a whiff of that intoxicating perfume she wore, a combination of flowers and dark nights “—do you trust me?”
Her eyes widened and she inhaled a quick breath. Then a grin quirked up on one side of her face, and she raised her chin a notch. Sassy. “No, I don’t. But I’ll take my chances anyway.”
“Pretty risky.”
“I’m not worried. I carry pepper spray.”
A laugh burst out of him, then he turned and opened the health club door for her. As she ducked past him, he leaned in again and caught another whiff of that amazing perfume. Damn sexy, and addictive. “You surprise me, Marnie Franklin. Not too many people do that.”
“I’ll keep that in mind.” She tossed the last over her shoulder, before walking into the waning sunshine.
He fell into step beside her, the two of them shifting into small talk about the weather and the treadmills at the gym as they walked down the busy main street for a couple of blocks before turning right on a small side street. Dusk had settled on the city. Coupled with the dark overlay of leafy trees it made for a cozy, peaceful stroll. For Jack, the walk was as familiar as the back of his hand.
He knew he should find a way to bring the conversation around to whether her father was the Tom Franklin he’d known, but Jack couldn�
�t do it. He liked Marnie, liked her a lot. If she had a chance to get to know this Jack, the one who had walked away from his father’s legacy and now tried to do things differently, then maybe he could explain what had happened before.
“Where are we going?” Marnie asked.
“It’s a surprise. You’ll see.”
“Okay, but I don’t have a ton of time—”
He put a hand on her arm, a quick, light touch, but it seemed to sear his skin, and he saw her do another quick inhale and a part of him—the part that had been closed off for so long—came to life. He wanted to let her in, if only for today, to have a taste of that sweet lightness, even though he feared a woman like her wasn’t meant for a man like him.
“It’s beautiful out. We both work hard. I think we can afford a few extra minutes to enjoy the end of the day.”
She gave him a wary glance. “Okay. But just a few.”
The side street led straight into a neighborhood, as if stepping into another world after leaving the hecticness of the city. Quiet descended over the area, while the constant hum of rush hour traffic behind them got farther away with each step. Elegant brick homes nearly as old as Boston itself decorated either side of the street, fronted by planters filled with bright, happy flowers. Concrete sidewalks lined either side of the street, accented with grassy strips and the minutiae of life in a neighborhood—kids’ bikes, lawn tools, newspapers. Neighbors greeted Jack as he walked by, and passing cars slowed to give him a wave.
In the distance, the gold-tipped spire of a church peeked above the leafy green trees, like a crown on top of a perfect cake. His heart swelled the farther he walked. No matter how many times he came back here, he always felt the same—at home.
“How come everyone knows you here?” Marnie said.
“I grew up in this neighborhood, staying in the same house all my life, even after my mom married Dan,” he said. “Even though my dad passed away and my mom moved to Florida a couple years ago, this place is still home.”
