ESCAPE INTO ROMANCE- 4 Book Bundle

by Patrice Wilton

  He laughed. “You think I’m adorable?”

  “Right now, I’d find Attila the Hun adorable.” She chuckled. “Really, how hard can this be? There has to be oodles of men who want to meet a potential partner, but have no time or don’t know where to look. That’s my job, and the easiest part. Why are there so many available women everywhere you look, and so few available men? What’s wrong with that picture? And don’t tell me they die younger. I’m not looking for people over seventy. I’m looking for healthy, stable, reasonably attractive men in their prime. They can’t all be married or gay. Or can they?”

  “Is that a rhetorical question?”

  “Yes, you don’t have to answer it. I’m just blowing off steam.”

  “How much does it cost to join this dating service, anyway?”

  “My minimum fee is a thousand dollars.” He was silent, and she asked, “Too high?”

  “I’m not sure, but Christine, these guys I know are workmen, not millionaires. You sure you want them?”

  She bit her lip. She’d had visions of Champagne being an exclusive club for well-off individuals, but she also realized that she was in a classic “beggars can’t be choosers” bind at the moment. And it wouldn’t be right anyhow to turn down a potential client sight unseen. Derek was vouching for these men, after all. And so many young, single women who came to her salon had complained about not being able to meet any really nice guys.

  This business was going to be more than a money maker. It would be emotionally satisfying for everyone. She’d be personally involved all the way through the process, from the initial consultation to the search for the right partner, to the introduction of mutually agreeable parties, until they were satisfied that they had found their one true love. She hoped to make a great many people happy. “Please let the men know that I’ll be more than happy to interview them. And I will keep the cost as low as I can. Obviously, this is a business and I do have to charge a reasonable fee. I’m giving everyone who signs up a satisfaction guarantee.”

  “You can’t do that. Finding the right match for someone could take a lifetime.”

  She laughed. “I sincerely hope not. So, Derek, when can you come in to sign the contract?”

  “When would you like me?”

  Right here, right now, she thought.

  “Soon. Do you have my address here on Flagler?” She fidgeted in her chair, crossing and uncrossing her knees.

  “I do. How about tomorrow?”

  “Tomorrow’s fine. I’ll see you then.”

  She put the phone down, and felt a wave of heat rush over her body, leaving a sensual tingling in its wake. What the hell was wrong with her? She had got by just fine without sex, and now one little slip-up and she couldn’t stop thinking about it. Damn him. He’d got her juices flowing, and she didn’t want those dried-up juices flowing anywhere. Damn sex drive, damn dating service, and damn Jim for leaving her in her prime. Why couldn’t he have waited another twenty years when she’d be finished with menopause and hot flashes, and the very thought of sex hurt?

  * * *

  Derek hung up the phone and headed for the bathroom to finish getting ready for work. He had a few errands to run later in the afternoon so was putting in a half day on the construction site.

  He scowled at his image in the mirror. Jesus H. Christ. What would a woman see in him? He was a grizzly-faced forty-year-old who’d been working out in the Florida sun for too many years. He wasn’t ugly, but he wasn’t George Clooney either. More like Clint Eastwood, he thought, turning his chin this way and that.

  Deep character lines ran down both sides of his mouth. Character lines. He wondered who made that up. Had to be a woman. A guy would call them what they were—age lines. His eyes were okay, but they nearly got lost behind his girly eyelashes. He’d always hated those lashes. Had tried to cut them off one time when he was around ten. The kids at school had called him sissy names and he’d gotten real sick of it.

  Wasn’t until he got to high school and had girls swooning over him that he was glad his mother had come into the room and grabbed the scissors out of his hand.

  His mom wasn’t doing well in that assisted living place. Maybe he could make enough money with this dating service gig to move her out of there and into the swanky Devonshire. It was pricey but had a good reputation, and that was enough incentive to go along with this stupid plan.

  He’d get to see Christine again too.

  He stripped his clothes and jumped in the shower, letting the water pound on his shoulders and rain on his face. Felt good. Real good. Shit. He was getting a boner thinking about the other night and what he’d like to do with Christine if he got another chance.

  Except Christine had made it clear she wasn’t interested. No point getting excited about a woman who didn’t want you. He turned the water from steamy hot to cool. If he wanted a woman he could find one.

  Just like that.

  CHAPTER TWELVE

  Jenny bounced into the office at nine, right on time, followed shortly after by Helga.

  Christine waited for the two women to get settled, then told them that her daughter Nicole was going to keep the website updated and help out with the advertising and event planning. Basically, she would be Christine’s girl Friday.

  “She’ll be able to do most of that at home, so we won’t need to share our office space,” Christine added.

  “Well, that’s good since my office is already puny,” Helga said. “I don’t know how I’m going to be able to conduct my consultations in such a limited space. I’m used to having an office as large as the reception area, with a good size sofa for my therapy sessions.”

  “The clients won’t need to be lying down, Dr. Weiss,” Jenny said. “They’re joining a dating service, not seeing a shrink.”

  Helga glanced at the young woman. “The sofa was for me. I liked to lie on it. It helped me think.”

  Christine raised an eyebrow and a look passed between Jenny and her. “Yes, well, Dr. Weiss, sorry to say, but there’ll be no lying down on this job.”

  She stood up and walked over to the coffee machine. “Anyone want a cup?”

  “Tea for me,” Helga replied. She glared at Jenny. “I brought my own bagel.” Sniffing, she added, “What are you staring at? Why aren’t you finding me some clients to interview? I’ve been here for a couple of days and not one darn client.”

  Christine stopped her coffee preparation and turned to face the two women. “Today, we are going to get us some clients.” She smiled. “I have a small list of names to call. Derek told me about a couple of guys who might be interested, and I thought I might call some former customers of mine and see if they have any sons or nephews who might be interested.”

  “Hey, I might know of a few guys,” Jenny said. “Sure, come to think of it, I know quite a few guys. Problem is—are they looking for a serious relationship or just a hook up?”

  Helga harrumphed. “Just like my grandson. He’s thirty years old. When is that man going to settle down?”

  Jenny flushed. “Would he like to join the dating service, do you think? If you give me his number, I could ask him.”

  “Good try, Jenny dear.” Helga laughed. “You’re not going to get his number out of me, unless I get a bagel on my desk every morning.”

  Christine looked from one to the other. Oh, boy. She could see Jenny’s already rosy complexion deepen to a fiery red.

  “That’s out and out bribery. I refuse to do it!” Jenny sat down behind the big marble counter and booted up her computer.

  “Too bad,” Helga said, “because I could tell Joe fancied you. But if you’re not interested in talking to him, well—”

  “I never said I wasn’t interested. I just don’t want you to think I’m your personal slave.”

  “My dear girl. I would never think that.” She looked at Christine. “Is my tea ready yet?”

  Helga’s eyes were twinkling, and Christine smiled back. Helga was a bit of a sly fox, but she certain
ly brought life to the place.

  “Tea, madam.” Christine handed her a cup. “I will work on the names Derek gave me, and Jenny could you check with the Colony and make sure everything is all set with our plans? I spoke to the event coordinator last week, but we need to make a follow-up call.”

  Christine had set up a launch party for Champagne. It was to be in four weeks’ time, a dinner dance for two hundred people. The hotel was one of the finest establishments in Palm Beach, and the event was costing her a small fortune. But she knew to properly launch this upscale dating service, it had to be done right.

  “How am I going to spend my time?” Helga looked at the sleek sofa in the reception area. She sipped her tea. “That isn’t even a comfortable sofa for me to take my nap.”

  “Why don’t you put together a questionnaire and set up a potential client database on your computer?” Christine suggested helpfully.

  “Good idea. I just might do that, if I knew how to create a database, which I don’t. Jenny can do it for me, can’t you, Jenny?”

  A sneaky smile played on Jenny’s lips. “Of course, I would be happy too. If you give me Joe’s number.”

  Helga didn’t answer. She turned around and took her tea into her office.

  “I’m going to murder that woman,” Jenny muttered.

  “I can hear you.” Helga poked her head around the door. “If you want his number, give me the database, and set me up with something for my evaluations.”

  Christine knew Helga had won that round, and was very curious about what she’d done in her office yesterday and planned to do today. She was being paid a substantial salary and had yet to lift a finger. Woman couldn’t even get her own tea.

  Why that made her smile, she had no idea. But she liked Dr. Weiss very much, and was glad she was part of their little team.

  Getting back to the business in hand, she called the four men Derek had suggested and set up appointments to meet with them next week. She also called Emily Perkins, the Palm Beach socialite who’d been her customer at the salon for so long.

  “Christine darling, I’m so glad you called. I’ve been thinking of you lately and wondering how your little business is going?”

  Oh dear! Here it came, Christine thought. Emily was going to ask her to do her hair again.

  “I’ve only had the doors open a few days,” she answered, “and that’s why I’m calling. I wondered if you knew any single men who might be interested in meeting a lovely woman to spend his days with. I do insist that both parties are looking for a committed relationship, but that is really the only requirement.”

  “No, but I have a lovely niece… Well, not really that lovely, if you know what I mean. But she has a heart of gold and a lovely personality. It is unfortunate that she’s about as plain as white bread. Anyway, the point being is she could certainly use your service.”

  “I see.” Christine bit the end of her pen, thinking fast. “I’d be happy to meet her.”

  “Thank you.” Emily sighed. “I’d be ever so grateful if you could find Nora a suitable man. The poor girl is nearly forty with no prospect in sight.”

  “Yes, I will certainly try. No, I will do better than that.” Christine threw caution to the wind. She knew that if she pleased Emily Perkins, the whole world would know about it. “I promise you, Emily, I will find someone for your niece. Could she come in for a preliminary consultation? I would like to meet Nora face to face and discern what kind of man would suit her tastes.”

  “Any man would suit her tastes,” Emily replied. “She really cannot afford to be fussy.”

  This irritated Christine, but she kept her voice pleasant. “Have Nora call me to set up an appointment.”

  “I could send her over today. The poor girl has no life.”

  Christine gritted her teeth. “Let’s make it tomorrow. I won’t be in the office for the rest of the day.” She wanted to speak to a few restaurant managers about arranging single events before the day was through. Once they were arranged, she’d let Nicole set up the advertising and give her that side of the business to run. Then there were Polo parties to think about and single cruises, and the list went on and on. Booking these events had to be done many months in advance, a cruise line longer than a year. She was grateful that she would have Nicole’s help.

  The day was busy, but she’d been pleased to see they had several hits on the website, and a few email enquiries and phone calls from prospective clients. Champagne was making strides. It would be a long haul, and Christine reminded herself to take it one day at a time. This day, at least, she had accomplished quite a few things.

  When she arrived home, Nicole was gone. She was still working at Hooters, intending on giving them two weeks’ notice. Christine felt confident that this time Nicole would stay away from Brett, and might even reach for some of her goals.

  Still wound up from her day at the office, Christine changed into her golf clothes and took her cart to the range. When she didn’t have time for a game she liked to hit balls a couple of times a week. She was a low handicapper and the practice helped her stay that way. It also was a great stress reliever.

  She picked up her pitching wedge and hit a perfect fifty yard shot toward the nearest flag. Again. And again. The repetition allowed her mind to flow. She had solved many a problem on the golf course.

  Putting her pitching iron away, she pulled out her nine. She executed a few perfect swings, then worked her way up to the woods. An hour later she was dripping wet, but her head was clear.

  Christine smacked a ball two hundred yards, straight as an arrow. She smiled and hit another. She loved her driver. It was solid, dependable, a force to be reckoned with. Just like she was.

  Some things were out of her control, but she had a good feeling that Champagne would be a successful business before long. And she was on good terms with Nicole again. It had been some time since she’d been proud of her daughter. After Jim moved out, Nicole had said some pretty hurtful things and their relationship had been strained. She could forgive the words. What hurt the most was how Nicole had accepted the other woman in her father’s life. She had hung out with them, gone on vacation, and it had torn Christine up inside. She felt as though she had lost everything, her husband, her way of life and her daughter, all at once. She had held her anger in, not wanting to let Nicole know how much the betrayal hurt.

  Then Nicole said she was quitting school to go to California with Brett. She and Christine had had a huge fight, exploding an enormous rift between them. When Nicole returned from California the first time, she’d stayed with her grandmother, finding it easier to confide in her than her own mother. Now, for the first time in years, Christine was hopeful they could be close once again.

  She packed up her clubs, feeling at peace with herself.

  * * *

  Anne was quiet during the early morning taxi ride to her hotel, too nervous to speak. Before the taxi had come to a full stop she was out the door, running into the lobby as Salvatore paid the fare.

  “The American bus tour,” she said to the clerk at the front desk. “Could you please tell me if they waited for me? It was to leave at six, and I’m forty minutes late.” She was breathing fast from her short sprint, and she held on to the counter, trying to calm herself down. Wouldn’t do any good to get her blood pressure up, or her arrhythmia more activated than it was. She took a couple of deep breaths as Salvatore joined her.

  “I’m sorry, ma’am,” the clerk said. “The tour operator paged you several times and they did wait a half hour. Your friends asked for a key to your room and we sent a bellhop up to check. They were concerned to see your bed undisturbed.” The young man glanced at Salvatore, and she thought he might have winked. “You’re not far behind the group. I can have someone help you pack your bags and maybe you’ll be able to catch the bus.”

  “No need to send anyone up. I never unpacked.”

  “Yes, ma’am.” He handed her the large, heavy key. “Your bill has been paid. You won’
t need to check out.”

  Anne was already walking away from the desk. She turned to Salvatore as she waited for the elevator. “I’m so sorry the evening turned out the way it did. But I do want to thank you for dinner.” She smiled and held out her hand. “I enjoyed our short time together and you’re a wonderful dancer.” The door slid open. “Good-bye, Salvatore. Thank you.”

  He stepped in with her. “I’m not going. I’m going to see that I get you to the bus.”

  “But…but I can’t keep you from your business. You have wasted enough time on me.”

  “No.” There was a trace of a smile on his lips. “Not enough time. I will drive you to the bus and see you off. It is the least I can do. If I hadn’t insisted on taking you away from your friends, you would be on that bus right now.”

  She didn’t argue that. They got off on the sixth floor, and he followed her down the hall to her room.

  “While you gather your belongings,” he said, “I will order some breakfast. We do not have to hurry. Venice is only a few hours away. After we eat, we can take a taxi back to my apartment where my car is.”

  Anne gnawed her bottom lip. She wished she could wriggle her nose like Elizabeth Montgomery in Bewitched and magically make things happen quicker. But she couldn’t, and they did have to eat. “Yes. I’ll have whatever you’re having. And tea.”

  Anne had time to freshen up before their breakfast arrived. Salvatore had ordered scrambled eggs, croissants with strawberry preserves and fresh fruit. She realized she was hungry, and they would need some sustenance before they set out for Venice. She carried the tray of food over to the table next to the window and opened the blinds as far as they would go. With Florence’s famous red-tiled rooftops as a backdrop, the two of them sat down to eat.

  * * *

  Anne had her hands braced on the dashboard as they squealed around a tight corner. Why did they make the streets so narrow in these Italian cities? It might be pretty and romantic, but it wasn’t practical for driving.

  Even though Salvatore said there was no hurry getting to Venice, he was driving like a Formula One race car driver. Must be an Italian thing, she thought. At least the hotel had managed to contact the tour operator to let them know she was on her way to Venice. If they could intercept the bus between here and there, then Salvatore would not have to travel so far.