MAKE ME A MATCH (Running Wild)
Page 8
That sounded further than she’d planned this to go, but she drank to it anyhow.
“So, Tessa, I really need to talk to you about this matchmaking. I was thinking about Karen, y’know, she was married to this real creepo, I guess you never met him, and now she needs to meet somebody who’ll appreciate her. Maybe we could—”
“Maybe we could nothing.” Tessa couldn’t believe it. He hadn’t even waited five minutes before he started asking for favors. “So that’s what this whole thing was about, this crap about clearing the air and all that?” Her voice rose. “Just so you could try all over again to wangle your way out of the gift your sisters spent their hard-earned money on? You can’t transfer your membership to Karen, so don’t ask.”
“Hold it, hold it.” He held up both hands, palms out. “You got this all wrong, Tess, that’s not what I was gonna say. I wanted to know about buying a membership for Karen, but I won’t bring Serendipity up again if you’re gonna go ballistic every time I try to talk to you about it. Man, you’re touchy. I just thought…..”
“Okay. Sorry.” She’d misunderstood. “I just don’t trust you.” That sounded harsh, so she added, “Yet. If you want to buy Karen a membership, I’d suggest asking her about it first. I don’t want to go through that whole rigmarole again about getting your money back.”
“I will ask her. I’m gonna see her in an hour or two. I promised I’d take the boys out to buy soccer boots.”
“You’re going to Karen’s? So am I.” Tessa felt more than a little annoyed. Karen hadn’t said Eric would be there, but then, why should she? He was her brother, after all.
“Yeah? What time you going?”
“Six. She said to come early, so I could meet the kids.”
“She probably forgot I was taking them shopping. Or maybe she figured you two would have more chance to talk with them gone, they’re firecrackers, those two. You want a ride over?”
“Please. I never bring my car to work, there’s a parking problem.” She’d been going to take the bus home and then drive to Karen’s, but the wine was making her a bit dizzy. “I’d appreciate that.” What harm could a ride do?
“You hungry?” He tipped more wine into her glass. “Let’s see if they serve anything edible here.”
“Well—okay.” She’d planned to skip dinner, not smoking more than one a day had put four and three-quarter extra pounds on her hips. But wine always made her ravenous. She finished another glass and thought what the hell. She could always diet tomorrow.
“Karen’s boys play soccer?” They were his nephews. She’d never really thought about him having nephews. “You’re an uncle, lucky old you. I’ll bet if my parents had tried harder, I could be an aunt right now.” The wine was loosening her tongue. “Sometimes I get so pissed off at them only doing it that one time.” Although come to think of it, they might be going for twice, tomorrow night.
He laughed. “I coach Simon’s soccer team; he’s catching on. The kids on Ian’s team are still having a hard time figuring out which end they aim for.”
“I wish I had nephews.” She felt as if she might cry. Wine did that to her, too. “Or nieces. I’d like nieces. I’d take either, but I’d prefer both.”
“You didn’t want kids of your own? When you were married?”
“Of course I did. Why do you think I got divorced?”
“Beats me.” He shook his head and held up his palms. “Maybe because the two of you couldn’t have kids?”
“Because he wouldn’t have kids.” It made her mad and sad all over again. She had almost finished the wine. She tipped more into her glass. Talking about Gordon made her tense. “Don’t you want your own babies someday, Eric?”
“Nope.” He shook his head. He said it casually, but without room for compromise. He was looking at the menu. “Raising my sisters was enough for me, and now I’ve got Karen’s boys to worry about. I figure I’ve had enough of raising kids to last me a lifetime.”
Something inside of her contracted and then hardened. She was going to have to make a notation on his file. No point lining him up with someone whose dream was to get pregnant. It was such a waste. He had the most beautiful eyelashes. What was wrong with men? She really felt like crying now. Her chest hurt. Her stomach cramped. She’d had way more wine than he had, way too much wine. She had to pee. She tried to get to her feet, to find the bathroom, and the carpet tipped.
“Whoops.” She grabbed at the table, missed, and connected with his shoulder. It was solid, reassuring, warm. But he didn’t want kids, the rat.
He got up and helped her find the bathroom. She took a long time because she was so dizzy. She kept forgetting what she was supposed to be doing. She washed her face with cold water and then realized she hadn’t brought her purse in with her. No more makeup. Oh well, so he’d see her barefaced; she certainly wasn’t trying to make an impression on him anyway. He didn’t want kids.
He was waiting with her coat and bag when she came out.
“Let’s take a walk, clear our heads, maybe find a burger place. Unless you want four courses and sauce on everything, because that’s what’s on this menu.”
“Nope, no courses.” She was just sober enough to figure out that he’d suggested walking for her sake, because she was really tipsy from the wine. In fact, she might just be a tiny little bit drunk.
He put his arm around her when they got outside, which was a good thing because the sidewalk kept moving up and down. It felt safe, having his arm around her. It felt sexy.
“Wine makes me feel sexy; it has absolutely nothing to do with you,” she told him just in case he thought otherwise.
He laughed. “Thank you for sharing.”
They walked, but the fresh air didn’t sober her up. She couldn’t keep to a straight line. She giggled when he steered her safely past people and signs and fire hydrants. She blew kisses to a policeman in a cruiser, and to a couple of babies in strollers. Once, overcome with good feelings, she made Eric stop and she pulled his head down and kissed him, not on the lips, though. Her aim was off, and she missed, getting his warm, scratchy cheek instead.
But then he turned the tables and took her face between his palms and placed his lips smack on hers. Her knees buckled and somehow her tongue got in his mouth and the heat made her dizzy. Eric made her dizzy, and she wanted more, but then he pulled away.
“This beats snarky all to hell,” he said, but his voice was shaky.
His skin smelled good. He hugged her tight for a long, sweet moment, and she thought she could feel his heart banging, but it might have been hers. Wine made her heart bang. Then she pulled away, because she remembered he didn’t want children.
“There’s a city ordinance that forbids making out on the street,” she told him in a stern tone. “We could get arrested.”
He said he thought it was worth it, but then she thought of more stuff she needed to tell him. Friends should know things about each other, even if they weren’t going to have children together.
She told him about Gordon, how he ate the same breakfast day after day, and had lists for everything, and never read anything but newspapers, and didn’t remember his dreams.
“So what did you want from the guy?” Eric sounded puzzled.
“I wanted him to buy tickets for Cuba some Friday afternoon, or take guitar lessons, or study yoga, or start wearing a kilt. I wanted him to buy a red car, and make me an ice-cream sundae and bring it to bed. He didn’t want babies because it would disrupt his schedule. And everything was always wrong. The dry cleaners put starch in his collars, other drivers cut him off, the waiter at the restaurant was rude. Call me Pollyanna, but I want to see the right things about life.”
She knew she was talking too much, but she also knew she was a brilliant conversationalist when she drank wine. Next she told him about trying to stop smoking before it yellowed her teeth and gave her wrinkles and made her breath smell bad.
“Besides, it puts guys off sex in the morning, and I really lik
e sex in the morning, don’t you?”
“Oh, yeah.” His voice was husky and he cleared his throat. “Afternoon, evening’s okay, too. And then there’s holidays; holidays are good.” He grinned down at her and gave her a long, speculative look with his eyebrows raised. He took her arm in a gentlemanly fashion.
“Would you consider yourself highly sexed or just ordinary, Eric?”
He definitely found her as funny as she figured she was.
“Is this a quiz, Tess?”
“I’m doing research. For my job.” Wow, she was inventive when she’d had too much to drink. It made her pulse kick up, too.
“I’ve never really run a comparison survey.”
“My boss says sex is biology. We should use it for courtship.”
“Instead of pleasure? Your boss has obviously spent too much time making out with the wrong kind of lovers.”
“Only one wrong one.” Tessa told him about Bernard and the Christmas party, but he didn’t find it funny the way she expected him to.
He growled, “Dumb ass needs his butt kicked.” For some reason that made her deliriously happy. “A guy like that could cause you real trouble, Tess.”
She opened her mouth to tell him that blundering Bernard was too busy making out with his assistant to bother with her, but just in time she remembered that was privileged information. So instead she told him about Clara’s resistance to computers, and how much easier it would be to do her job if Synchronicity was computerized.
“You should come over to my office and talk to Henry, my office manager. He’s a whiz at computers. He computerized my entire business, and he just finished setting up an astrology program for Anna. Which wasn’t the best move he ever made.”
“Why not? I’m gonna get Anna to do my chart. I want to find out when I start to live happily ever after.” She was sort of happy right now, though. She jumped over cracks in the sidewalks and said she hoped her mother appreciated it. She quoted Jabberwocky and then cried when an ice-cream truck drove by.
“It reminds me of being little and having that excited feeling, like anything was possible. And then you grow up and find it isn’t.”
He handed her tissues and hugged her until the tears stopped.
“I’m enjoying the hell out of this, but I think you need something to eat, Tess. ” He bought them burgers in a fast-food joint because that’s what she said she wanted.
“Grease, the grease will settle my stomach,” she insisted. “Or was that olive oil? Grandma Blin always claimed it was a cure for hangovers. But maybe you had to drink it before you drank.” Famished, she wolfed down a veggie burger and fries and a vanilla shake
But she realized afterward that it was the coffee that did it. After the second cup, she burped twice, really loud, and then suddenly wasn’t drunk anymore, but man, she was embarrassed. She covered her eyes with her hands and moaned.
“Headache? I’ve got Tylenol here somewhere.” He started fishing in his pocket.
“No headache. I’m just mortified. I was drunk. You got me drunk.”
He nodded. “Oh, yeah. But I didn’t take advantage of you, did I?”
Not that the thought hadn’t crossed her mind. That must be what any port in a storm meant. Damn wine made her horny. How could she have kissed him that way, leaning into his pelvis right there on Granville Street? Why couldn’t she be the kind of drunk who didn’t remember anything?
“Is it too late to go to Karen’s?”
“Nope. I’ll call and tell Karen we’re on our way. They’ll be waiting.”
She noticed his hands on the cell phone. He had workman’s hands, big, with veins showing, nails broken, knuckles swollen. Clean, though. It was so refreshing to be with a guy who didn’t have manicures.
He also didn’t have the sports car she expected.
“Here she is, my pride and joy,” Eric purred, opening the passenger door to an orange Volkswagen van with a white top. “She’s a classic, nineteen seventy- two, super reliable, great for carting things around. Henry’s mother, Gladys, had her sitting in her garage, mint condition. Gladys wanted to buy a red Cadillac, if you can believe that, so she let me have this baby for a song.”
Tessa hoped it wasn’t a very long song, because this baby was downright ugly. It, too, was clean, and about all you could say for it was it got them where they were going. But who was she to criticize his taste in transportation? Personally, she was with Gladys, she’d have gone for the red Caddie in a heartbeat.
There were cracks in the sidewalk leading to Karen’s condo, and someone had used spray paint on the wall. Karen’s adorable sons dove at Eric the moment the door opened, crawling up his legs, wrapping their arms around his waist, shouting for his attention.
Simon was a big, muscular boy, tall for five, with Eric’s blue eyes and Karen’s smile. Simon was thin and angelic looking. Both boys had masses of curly red hair. Karen introduced them to Tessa, and after a bit of prompting they released Eric and shook hands formally with her.
Simon gave her a suspicious look. “Are you one of my Uncle Eric’s girlfriends?”
“Heavens, no.” Tessa gave a nervous little laugh and her face got hot. “He just gave me a ride over to your house.”
“Cause Uncle Eric has lots of girlfriends. Auntie Sophie says he does catch and release,” Simon told her. “Like with fish, but Uncle Eric does it with ladies.” He burst into giggles and Ian did, too, both of them chanting “Catch and release, catch and release. ”
“Boys, put a plug in it.” Eric picked them up, one under each arm. “We’re outta here, see you later. Bye, ladies.” He didn’t quite meet Tessa’s eyes.
“Sorry about that,” Karen said when the door closed behind them. “They’ve just got so much energy. Come and sit down, I’ve got fresh coffee made.”
“That’s what’s great about kids, ” Tessa managed in a feeble tone.
Lots of girlfriends ? Catch and release?
Lucky she didn’t have any feelings for him anymore. Eric Stewart was obviously the desk clerk at Heartbreak Hotel, and she’d be wise to remember it.
Just before ten, Eric unlocked the street door and walked along the dim hallway to his apartment. What had Karen told Tessa in the two hours he’d been out with the boys sending shoe clerks batty? He’d gone from getting kissed brainless on the street and asked about his sex drive to frostbite that damned near took his nose off when he stuck it out and offered her a ride home. He’d actually been looking forward to being alone with her again. He’d heard Tessa and Karen laughing when he came in the door. And then he’d suggested the ride home, and she’d given him that look that would have frozen his blowtorch in mid-flame.
“I’ve called a cab, thanks anyway,” she’d snapped at him. Maybe she was getting her period. Maybe she had personality disorder.
Women, who knew? She’d managed to knock the hell out of a perfectly good mood, so he’d stopped at a pub on the way home just to confirm that bar bunnies still found him irresistible. They did, but it must be his age, because tits and ass just didn’t appeal the way they once had.
His building was so old there wasn’t even an elevator, which made him glad he’d chosen an apartment on the main floor. At least nobody complained about all the junk he dragged in. Hauling tons of scrap iron in and out also saved him what he’d have spent on a gym membership, so there were lots of perks to both the place and his hobby.
He unlocked his door and went in, flicked a couple of lights, and gulped down a glass of water. He looked at the dog he was building and decided not to make life-altering changes tonight. The message light was blinking on his machine, but he wasn’t in any mood to listen. Whatever it was would keep till morning. He was heading for the shower when the phone rang.
“Eric?” It was Karen, and the tension in her voice set alarms off in his head. “Eric, where were you? I’ve been calling and calling. The police came here just after you left.” She took a quick little gulp of air, and he waited for the worst, heart hamm
ering.
“Eric, Jimmy’s dead.”
CHAPTER NINE
I don’t know whether to kill myself or go bowling
It took a moment to sink in, and then a horrible thought struck him. Could a guy die from a broken nose? He didn’t think so. He’d never heard of it happening, but he wanted desperately to call Sophie and find out. Could it take a whole week to happen?
His throat tightened. “How—what did he die from?”
“He was just walking along the street. The detective said that they’re, ummm, the police are treating it as a suspicious death. The coroner has to do the— the autopsy before they can say for sure what happened.”
Jesus.
“I’ll be right over.”
“Anna’s here now. It’s okay, you don’t have to come. I just wanted you to know.”
Would Anna be able to calm Karen down? She’d probably spout some crap about karma, and things being written in the stars, and it all being for the universal good, and souls choosing their destiny. Was that going to be much help?
Karen was still talking. “I called her when— when I couldn’t get you. She’s staying tonight.” Karen sounded like a small, frightened girl. “I have to work tomorrow.”
“No, you don’t, sweet pea. Take the day off. I’ll call the witch for you right now, tell her why you can’t make it.”
“No, no, I have to go to work. There’s this thing with a customer. I need to talk to Junella.”
She sounded hysterical, so he dropped it. Maybe it was better for her to work, keep her mind off it.
“What about the kids? Want me to take them somewhere, give you a break?”
“Sophie’s taking them to Science World. Anna called her already.”
“What else did the cops say, sweet pea?”
“They asked a lot of stuff about the fight you had with Jimmy, they already knew about that. And they asked if I’d seen Jimmy this week. The last time I saw him was at the pub a week ago.” Even dead, Jimmy Nicols was managing to make waves.