by Amanda Ashby
She tapped her fingers on the table. It had been ten minutes since she’d finished her presentation and the Petersons were still in the other room, no doubt discussing just what an idiot she was.
Kate smoothed down her one good suit and tried not to feel like a fish out of water, but it was difficult. She was used to being behind the scenes. Standing in the background—preferably close to an exit sign. Her chest tightened as a familiar anxiety crept in. What was she even doing here? Unfortunately, Matt had given her specific instructions not to leave, no matter how tempting it was. Instead he’d told her to just breathe through her feelings until the panic subsided, and while Kate hadn’t really believed him, she found herself taking in a lungful of air. Her whole body tingled in response and by the time she released her breath, the urge to flee had left her.
For better or worse, she was going to wait this one out. Which was probably a good thing since even if she had tried to walk out, Matt, who was sitting out in the foyer, would just send her right back in, in a non-datelike manner. Now that she thought about it that was probably why he’d insisted on coming with her today instead of just wishing her luck.
He’d known she was a flight risk.
She sucked in some more oxygen and was forced to admit just how grateful she was for his help. Especially since, true to his word, yesterday had been all work and no hint of a date, not even when he’d ordered them both Indian food. Instead they’d discussed possible interview questions along with how many paintings she should include in her portfolio and even whether to bring up a tenth grade art award that she’d once won. Not to mention that if she hadn’t had his help carrying all of the paintings up, she would’ve looked a lot less presentable than she currently did.
“Kate, sorry to keep you waiting for so long.” Monica Peterson suddenly reappeared and Kate forgot all about her breathing as her nerves kicked in again. Monica was in her early sixties and was dressed in a simple but expensive skirt and blouse. Her hair was also groomed to within an inch of its life and she didn’t look like she laughed very often. All in all she was an imposing sight.
“That’s fine.” Kate’s mouth was dry as Monica marched to the large table, clutching at the notes she’d been taking during the presentation.
“Calvin sends his apologies. He had to go to another meeting but I wanted to let you know that we both loved your ideas. There is a freshness to them and we both adore the way it creates nostalgia without being too overwhelming, which is why we want to offer you the commission.”
For a moment Kate was quiet as a wave of energy rushed through her body, leaving her breathless and hot. They’d said yes. They’d given her the commission.
“We were both particularly impressed with the preliminary sketches for the mural. The color palate, the artistic integrity and the hidden objects that you’ve included are very appealing and I’m sure will entertain our customers no matter how many times they visit,” Monica continued, obviously quite used to dumbstruck artists.
Kate felt a sense of pride swell up in her chest, quickly followed by relief that she’d be able to keep Socrates in the expensive cat food that he felt was his birthright.
“Thank you,” she finally managed to speak. “So, what happens now?”
“We’ll have contracts drawn up and then as soon as the builders have given us clearance you’ll be able to start on the mural itself.” Monica smiled and Kate’s body buzzed with joy as the reality began to sink in. “We will also pay a quarter of the money up front and the rest once everything has been completed.”
“Sounds great.” Kate numbly nodded her head in agreement.
She’d done it.
She’d really done it.
“Oh.” Monica paused. “There’s one other thing. We’re throwing a fund-raiser tomorrow night and it’ll be a perfect opportunity to introduce you when all of our investors are in the one place. We’d really like you to be there. And please bring your partner as well. You make a handsome couple and I’m sure that the press will eat it up.”
“M-my partner?” Kate stammered as some of her euphoria slid away as she realized that Monica Peterson thought that Kate and Matt were . . . well, that they were a couple.
“Yes.” Monica gave an impatient nod as if she found giving details to be a tiresome job. “I’ll get my assistant to leave two tickets for you at the reception desk, so don’t forget to pick them up on the way out. Oh, and it’s formal wear.”
“Actually, the thing is—” Kate took a deep breath and hoped she didn’t look as flustered as she felt. She searched for the words to explain that Matt was nothing more than her neighbor. A very, very good-looking neighbor who sometimes hid in her art gallery and who wiped paint from her cheek and insisted on helping her in a totally non-date kind of way.
A shudder of desire raced through her at the thought. What if they really were partners? What if she got to go to bed with him every night and wake up next to him each morning? What if she could tug away at his neatly ironed shirts until the buttons all flew off and her hands had access to what she knew would be his smooth, lean chest?
What if he one day woke up and decided that having her wasn’t enough?
What if he was like Harry and wanted a baby after all and she’d once again be on her own?
Kate’s desire ebbed away in an instant, but before she could even open her mouth Monica’s cell phone rang and a small frown gathered around her new patron’s lips.
“I have to take this, but don’t forget about the tickets and I’ll look forward to seeing you tomorrow night,” Monica said in an efficient voice before answering the call as she walked out the door. “Tony, I hope you have a solution for me, not a problem . . .”
No. Kate gulped as she hurried after Monica Peterson. She had to tell her the truth about Matt, because while she said she might be open to dating him, she’d planned for it to be sometime in the future. The distant future. Not tomorrow night.
“Hey.” Matt instantly stood up as soon as she stepped out of the boardroom, effectively blocking her path. “So, how did it go?”
“What?” Kate blinked as Monica disappeared down the corridor and out of sight. Then she readjusted her focus and realized just how close Matt was standing to her and how intently his dark eyes were scanning her face, looking for clues. “Oh, well the good news is that I got it.”
“Kate, that’s wonderful. I’m so proud of you,” he said as his entire face transformed from one of concern to one of joy. Unexpectedly she felt like crying. Harry, who was not only older than her, but also an established artist, had never had much time for her career, and so in the past the only ones who celebrated her achievements were Jenny and Socrates. But up until now she hadn’t realized how nice it was to have someone else’s support.
“Thank you. And thank you for all your help. I might have the painting side sorted out, but as you might’ve guessed, the business side of things can be a bit overwhelming. I’m not sure I would’ve gotten it all done without you.”
“Then it was lucky that I was there,” Matt said before he stepped closer and studied her face, so close she could almost feel his breath. “So, why don’t you look happy?”
“I am.” She gulped as her pulse fluttered. “I mean, it’s the best thing that’s ever happened to me. But there’s a slight problem.”
“A problem? Like what? They want you to make everyone nude? Or only use three colors? Or no color. Black and white. That could be a challenge considering how bright your other work is.” He arched one eyebrow and Kate let out a reluctant giggle.
“No, it’s nothing like that. It’s just they want me to go to a fund-raiser tomorrow night so that they can introduce me to some of the investors, and she mistakenly thought that you were . . . Well, that we . . .”
“We’re a couple,” Matt finished off, and Kate gave a helpless nod of her head. See, this was why she didn’t like fac
ing things head-on. Because it was embarrassing and could result in breathing difficulties.
“I guess she saw you helping with the paintings. And before I could correct her she received a phone call and now she’s no doubt in her office telling someone else that she doesn’t want to hear problems, just solutions.”
“Hmmm. That’s unfortunate. Especially since this non-dating thing is working so well for us. I’d hate to ruin what we have just to keep your new boss happy.” Matt frowned, still standing so close that he could probably hear her heart pounding away in her chest. “Then again, if you really begged me . . .”
“So now you want me to beg you to go on a date with me?” Kate said as a wave of his aftershave curled its way into her nose.
“Okay, no begging. It’s undignified.” He unleashed a dimple and she took a giddy step back and tried to take a breath of Matt-free air. “But I’m more than happy to go to the fund-raiser with you. And don’t look so worried. I promise that I own a tuxedo and I have it on good authority that my table manners are perfectly respectable.”
“It’s not that,” Kate protested as she thought of all the reasons why she should refuse him. Of how standing too close to him made her pulse spike. Of how it made her think dangerous thoughts. Of how she might trust him. “It’s just this whole dating business. Matt, I meant what I said before about my breakup. It was pretty brutal. I’m not sure how ready I am.”
“Then we’ll take it one step at a time,” he said. “In fact, let’s not even call it a date. Let’s just pretend that we’re two neighbors spending time together. We can make our own rules. A non-date. Does that sound less terrifying? Not to mention that it makes me look very spontaneous.”
“Y-you want to wing it? The guy who I saw tidying up my paintbrush collection when you thought I wasn’t looking yesterday?” Kate raised a quizzical eyebrow as hope flared in her chest. Was this her way of having it all? Of being able to spend time with a guy who made her pulse flutter, while still keeping her heart safe?
“You saw that, huh?” Matt winced, though his brown eyes were shining. “Well, I guess that means I’ll have to hand my ninja badge back. But I do mean it. I’ll let go of my need to control and plan everything and you can let go of your fear of getting hurt and we’ll just spend time together. No pressure. What do you say?”
“Okay.” Kate blinked, unsure how any of this happened. One minute she was a broke artist with a hole in her ceiling and a strict policy on men, and suddenly she had the biggest commission of her life and was going on a non-date with the best-looking guy she’d ever seen. It really had been a strange week.
***
“A tuxedo?” Keith raised his eyebrows as he sat down on one of Matt’s neat white sofas and sprawled out his legs. “What’s the big occasion? Don’t tell me that you’re going on a date with one of the women from the Stop the Clock competition.”
“Please say that you’re not,” Emma’s husband, Sam, said from over by the breakfast bar, where he was indulging in a second beer while his health-conscious wife wasn’t around to see him. “Because you know that Emma will go ballistic. She says that the more you enable Keith and his stupid ideas, the more stupid ideas he’ll keep having.”
“Hey, I’m right here,” Keith complained, but Sam and Matt ignored him.
“Please. I’m not that desperate,” Matt said as he carefully took the tuxedo out of the dry cleaning bag it had been stored in, to check that it was in perfect condition for tomorrow night. “Besides, I’m perfectly capable of meeting a woman on my own.”
“Oh, you can meet them, all right,” Keith chimed in. “But are they the right kind of girl for you? Whereas the Stop the Clock competition was perfect for a man in your situation.”
“Keith, I think you might be beating a dead horse,” Sam said before looking at Matt with interest. “So, you’ve met someone? Emma was doing that annoying smile of hers to suggest that she knew something I didn’t, but then refused to tell me because it wasn’t her secret to tell. Like that’s ever stopped her before.”
Matt took a gulp of beer as he recalled the feel of Kate as his fingers had worked to loosen the zipper of her painting smock the previous day. The effort it had taken to restrain his fingers from exploring the slightly jutting bones of her shoulder blades had been immense, made all the worse by the fact she’d said no to a date. Which meant that exploring her shoulder blades was entirely off-limits.
He’d been half-tempted to try and change her mind with a list of excellent reasons, but instead, as he’d watched her nervously chew on her lip while the dark shadows under her eyes grew heavier, he’d found himself offering his help. He actually wasn’t sure who had been more surprised. Her or him, since spontaneous wasn’t normally in his wheelhouse. Then again, someone like Kate wasn’t normally in his wheelhouse, yet the more time he spent with her, the more she fascinated him.
“Well?” Sam said, bringing Matt back down to earth.
“Kind of. She lives next door and gave me refuge when Keith dropped his Stop the Clock bomb,” Matt said, not really sure how to define the magnetic attraction between him and Kate. She was so different from him in every way. But somehow that didn’t seem to matter. Nothing mattered except seeing her again.
“The hot artist?” Keith looked up in interest. “So my competition did work.”
“And how do you figure that?” Matt lifted an eyebrow.
“Because you met her thanks to my announcement. The radio station will love this. I mean, buddy, if it wasn’t for me you never would’ve forced your way into her gallery like that. When can I get you both in for an interview?”
“Try never,” Matt retorted.
“Talk about ungrateful,” Keith muttered as he reached over to the coffee table for the envelope he’d brought around with him. “Especially when I came here bearing gifts.”
“Only because the radio station made you,” Sam reminded him as Keith waved the envelope in the air. It was for two free nights at the Talbot, and according to Keith his bosses had insisted that Matt be given it as a way of an apology.
“And they can have them right back again,” Matt said as he picked up the envelope and tucked it back into Keith’s jacket, which was on a messy heap on the floor. The last thing he wanted was anything to do with the competition. Even an apology.
Keith rolled his eyes, but Sam ignored him as he turned his attention back to Matt.
“Enough deflection. I want some juicy details. What’s she like and when’s the wedding?”
“Seriously, what is it with you two?” Matt frowned. “We’re going on a date, not getting married.”
“So you say, but I know you, Matt, and once you make your mind up to do something, you do it.” Sam took another sip of his beer and nodded his head, as if he’d just said something deeply insightful. “Which means now you’ve decided to have kids, knowing you, you’ll be proposing any day now.”
“Yeah, well just make sure you give us time to organize a decent bachelor party,” Keith chimed in, and Matt frowned as he looked at his watch.
“For your information, Kate and I have purposely decided that we’re going to take it slowly. Be spontaneous—and before either of you open your mouths, yes, I can be spontaneous. In fact, I’m about to spontaneously kick you both out of my place right now.”
“As your best friend, I have to tell you that being spontaneous has made you grumpy.” Sam looked reluctantly at his half-finished beer before struggling to his feet. Obviously the prospect of going back to a house full of recovering chicken-pox victims wasn’t as appealing as having another drink, but Matt made a pointed effort of bagging up the beers and thrusting them toward Sam. He then turned to where Keith was still sprawled.
“You too.”
“Don’t be like that,” Keith complained.
“Like what?” Matt said in exasperation. “Anyone would think you don’t ha
ve a home to go to.”
“You’re not too far off. Ever since Miranda discovered my address, she keeps trying to pop over to discuss the show. It’s a nightmare.”
“Oh, we can’t have the big, bad producer scaring poor little Keith,” Matt retorted.
“Exactly,” Keith began before catching Matt’s pointed look. He sighed. “You still want me to go, don’t you?”
“That would be yes.” Matt nodded his head as Keith reluctantly stood up and smoothed down his wrinkled clothes in an attempt to look dignified.
“Well.” He sniffed. “I know when I’m not wanted.”
“Good,” Matt replied as he walked his two friends down to the front door.
Once they were gone he returned to his tuxedo, to check it was still in one piece. It had been a while since he’d worn it. Probably his parents’ thirty-fifth wedding anniversary two months ago, when he and Emma had rounded up all the bridesmaids, flower girls and groomsmen and re-created the ceremony all over again.
Matt smiled as he recalled the startled look on his mother’s face when she realized what was going on. Emma had booked the original church and Matt had been driving his mother there on the pretext of needing some help sweet-talking the priest into letting a corporate client use the church for a photo shoot.
But when they’d both walked up the tiled steps of St. Joseph’s, his mother had squeezed his hand in understanding. “You wonderful children,” she whispered with a tear in her eye. “Thank you.”
It had been a touching moment. Of course, then Cousin Edith had accidentally let off the party popper Emma had given her for later, and the noise had caused Great-Auntie Ruth to dive under the pew screaming for everyone to get their gas masks because the enemy was at it again. But despite the chaos, Matt had still felt the strength of his family ties reaching out to bind him. It had been a good feeling.
