by Robin Wells
It also meant Matt undoubtedly shared her brother’s view of her as an impractical scatterbrain. Robert had loved to regale his friends with tales of her mishaps and Matt was sure to have heard the gory details of every single one. It wouldn’t be easy convincing him she was capable and competent.
Thinking about being competent made Ali glance at her watch, then hurriedly scramble into her jeans. Robert had said Matt was a stickler for punctuality and she didn’t want to keep him waiting.
Matt was swallowing a gulp of coffee when Ali pushed open the glass door of the Cattleman’s Cafe, jangling the cowbells overhead. He set the green mug down hard on the Formica tabletop and watched her scan the room. Draped in a black wool cape with a vivid red lining and toting a large black bag, she looked like a sexy version of Little Red Riding Hood. She pushed back the hood, ruffling her hair, and Matt felt a surge of attraction.
Quit ogling her like the Big Bad Wolf, he reprimanded himself.
Ali spotted him and quickly made her way to the table, flashing him a friendly grin as she slid onto the booth seat across from him. “What’s up?”
Matt eyed her uncertainly. While he’d been waiting for her, he’d mentally run through half a dozen ways to broach the subject. None of them made the topic more palatable. Might as well go with his usual straightforward approach. “We have a serious situation we need to discuss,” he began.
Ali smiled companionably. “It must be quite a situation to bring you to the bridal salon looking for me. How did you know where I was?”
“I, uh, overheard Justin Townsend mention it.”
Her grin widened. “I didn’t know you knew Justin. Are you coming to the wedding?”
The question caught Matt by surprise. Weren’t guests supposed to receive written invitations to weddings? From what he’d heard about how AIi usually operated, though, he wouldn’t be surprised if she’d invited guests telepathically.
“Tm not sure,” he hedged. “When is it?”
“This Saturday,” she replied.
Saturday! Derrick wasn’t wasting any time. Matt decided he’d better not beat around the bush, either.
He placed his elbows on the table and leaned forward. “Let me get right to the point. How well do you know Derrick Atchison, Ali?” he asked.
She shrugged her shoulders. “Fairly well, I guess. I went to high school with him.”
“Have you seen much of him since then?”
“Well, no.” Ali paused to order an ice tea from the waitress. “I hadn’t seen Derrick since graduation until I ran into him at a party last weekend.”
Matt stared at her incredulously. “You hadn’t seen him in years until last weekend? That must have been some reunion.” He couldn’t keep an edge of irony out of his voice. “Yessir, I’d say you two must have really hit it off.”
Ali shot him a quizzical look. “What’s this all about, Matt?”
Matt set down his coffee so hard that it threatened to slosh out of the cup. “Look, Ali, I know this is none of my business—but how can you walk down the aisle with someone you barely know?”
Ali regarded him strangely. “It’s no big deal. People do it all the time.”
She’s even goofier than I thought. Matt ran a hand down his face and decided to drop the questions. “I have a few things to tell you about Derrick that might make you change your mind.”
“I doubt there’s anything you can tell me about him that I haven’t already heard,” she said with a serene smile. “Hillsboro is a pretty small town, and I’ve stayed in touch with my old friends here.”
Matt felt his mouth fall open. He closed it with an effort and rubbed his jaw. Try another approach, he told himself, but he had no idea what might work with a person as completely devoid of common sense as Ali seemed to be.
The waitress delivered Ali’s tea, and Matt watched her squeeze a lemon slice into the glass as he considered his next move. Maybe if he could figure out why she was marrying Derrick, he could figure out a way to stop her.
He forced what he hoped was a composed expression onto his face, deliberately trying to keep his voice low and controlled. “Why are you doing this, Ali?”
Her eyebrows lifted in surprise. “Because I was asked,” she replied in an overly patient tone, the kind one might use when explaining something obvious to a halfwit. “Besides, it’s an honor.”
Matt shook his head in disbelief. Of all the absurd, inane, ridiculous things he’d ever heard, this took the cake. “Robert told me you were unpredictable. I didn’t realize that was code for flat-out crazy.”
Ali’s back stiffened. “I don’t know what you’re talking about, but I don’t appreciate being addressed in that fashion.”
What would Robert do if he were here? He’d probably lay down the law. Matt slammed his hand on the table, his jaw tightening into a stubborn set. “Well, I won’t allow it.”
Matt realized too late that his voice was loud enough to make the other patrons in the cafe turn and stare at him. But that was the least of his worries; a pair of indignant gray eyes were boring a hole through him.
“I beg your pardon?” Ali asked in a tone was chilly enough to freeze lava.
“I won’t let you do it,” Matt said flatly. He leveled what was meant to be a cool gaze at her, but a slight twitch in his jaw gave away his effort to control his temper. “I was Robert’s best friend, and there’s no way I’m going to let his sister pull a damn fool stunt she’ll regret for the rest of her life.”
Ali eyed him icily. “Who the heck do you think you are, telling me what I can and can’t do?”
“I’m a person who owes it to Robert to keep his sister from marrying a con artist who’s only interested in her inheritance.”
There! He’d said it—although not as delicately as he’d originally intended. He watched her eyes widen, and decided to press on while he had her attention. “If I have to truss you up and take you across the state line on Saturday to prevent you from making the mistake of a lifetime, I’ll damn well do it.”
Ali stared at him for a moment, her eyes round and her mouth open in a perfect little ‘o.’ Then, to Matt’s total discomfiture, she burst into laughter.
“I don’t see what’s so funny about this,” he snapped. “If you don’t think I’m serious, just try me.”
Ali only laughed harder—so hard, in fact, that she clutched her stomach and doubled over, laughing until tears rolled down her cheeks.
Matt watched her in confusion. Of all the reactions he’d imagined she might have, he’d never thought of this one. He was vaguely aware that the entire cafe was regarding them with undisguised interest. Was she hysterical? Maybe she needed medical attention. Matt was wondering if he should call for help when she pulled herself together enough to speak.
“You think I’m going to marry Derrick Atchison,” she finally gasped.
Matt eyed her suspiciously. “What am I supposed to think?”
She gripped the edge of the table and succumbed to another fit of giggles.
Matt reached across and grabbed her hand. It felt warm and soft and surprisingly slight under his fingers. Touching her made him adopt a gentler tone. “Are you saying you’re not marrying Derrick?”
Ali’s eyes fell on her captured hand. The physical contact seemed to have a sobering effect on her. “Of course not. Lauren Connors is marrying Justin. I’m going to be the maid of honor, and Derrick is the best man.”
Matt knit his brows together. “But I distinctly heard Justin say you and Derrick are walking down the aisle together.”
“We are—after the ceremony, behind Lauren and Justin.” Ali’s voice once again had that be-patient-with-the-idiot quality to it. She withdrew her hand, picked up her napkin and dabbed at her cheeks. “The maid of honor and the best man always follow the bridal couple out of the church. We practiced it at the rehearsal last night.”
Matt wished he could slither under the table. He squirmed on the vinyl booth and clenched his knuckles on the tabletop
. “I see. I thought—well, it’s pretty obvious what I thought.”
Ali reached over and patted his arm. “Actually, it’s very sweet of you to be so concerned,” she said softly, “even if you were awfully high-handed. But you and I need to get two things straight if we’re going to work together. One—I happen to have a pretty good head on my shoulders, regardless of what you may have heard. And two—I don’t need another big brother.”
Matt’s head jerked to attention. “Whoa. Back up a moment. Did you say work together?”
Ali nodded. “I intended to come talk to you next week, but since the subject has come up, we might as well discuss it now.”
“Discuss what now?” Matt’s orderly life suddenly seemed to be careening out of control.
Ali took a sip of her ice tea, then reached for the sugar. “Well, Robert left me his half of your company. My attorney tells me that most of the assets are tied up in the Victorian Village housing development that’s now under construction.”
“Right,” Matt said cautiously. “So?”
“So it doesn’t strike me as fair that I’ll receive half the profits without doing any of the work.” Ali calmly opened a packet of sugar and poured it into her glass. “I’ve got some great ideas for the project and I’ve moved back to Hillsboro to help you with it.”
She couldn’t have shocked him more if she’d dropped a bomb in his lap. In fact, Matt felt like she’d done just that. “Now wait just a cotton-picking minute,” he began. Easy, Jordan—proceed with caution, a little voice inside him warned. So far strong-arm tactics have only gotten her back up.
Matt drew a deep breath and deliberately lowered his voice. “That really isn’t necessary,” he said with feigned nonchalance. “Robert completed his portion of the work when he designed the homes.”
“But I want to help,” Ali said. “I’m an interior designer, Matt, and I’ve always wanted to work on one of Robert’s projects. He told me that we would someday. This was his last project, so it’s the only ‘someday’ I’ve got.”
“But… but…” Matt sputtered. Her words were striking pure terror in his heart. He searched for another way to dissuade her. “What about your job in Dallas?”
“I quit,” Ali told him.
Matt barely stifled a groan. Great. Just great. She was really serious about this.
“I’d gotten tired of the pace of the city and I missed my old friends, anyway,” she continued, “so I decided to move back to Hillsboro. Since Robert left his house to me, it seemed like a logical decision.”
Logical? By whose definition?
Ali glanced at her watch. “Oh, dear—I’m nearly late for the bridesmaid’s luncheon. Look, I’ll be home later today and most of tomorrow if you want to discuss this some more. Feel free to drop by. Otherwise, I’ll see you at the office on Monday.” She flashed him a smile, then she was gone.
Matt stared after her, feeling like he’d been hit by a cyclone. He watched her sweep out of the cafe in a whirl of black and red, thinking that a cyclone was an all too accurate analogy. After all, what she proposed would cut a swath of chaos through his well-ordered life.
A phrase came to mind—a phrase weathermen used to describe the part of the country most prone to destructive twisters.
Tornado Alley.
Better make that Tornado Ali.
Matt heaved a sigh and raked a hand through his hair. Whichever way he spelled it, he was definitely in for a rough time.
Chapter Two
“Okay, Flipper—ready? Go get it, boy!”
Ali flung the miniature Frisbee. The small black-and-white dog scampered through the dry leaves,leaped high in the air and caught the toy in his teeth.
Ali grinned and clapped her hands, her thick wool mittens muffling the sound. The little dog darted back to her and plopped the toy at her feet, barking sharply and wagging his tail. Ali bent and petted the animal as she picked up the disc.
“Good catch! You really love this game, don’t you, fella? Okay, here we go again. Ready… set… go!” Ali drew back her arm and again hurled the disc. To her dismay, this time it landed on the slope of the roof.
“Oh, no!”she exclaimed. Flipper stood on his hind legs and whined.
“Don’t worry, boy,” she crooned to her pet. “We’ll get it down. I think there’s a ladder in the garage.” Ali headed back to the house, the frozen grass crunching under her feet as the little dog followed at her heels.
She found the ladder resting against the wall where she remembered it. As she bent to lift it, she noticed a box beside it on the concrete floor. She pulled up the flap and peered inside.
Drafting tools. The sight made Ali’s eyes mist over and a lump formed in her throat. She picked up a slide rule and reverently ran her mittened hand along the length of it, her heart aching to see the instruments her brother had loved so much boxed and forgotten in the garage.
This wasn’t the first time she’d been hit by a sudden, overwhelming wave of grief. She’d felt the same thing when she first walked into the house—a house that Robert had designed, a home filled with his furniture, a place that so strongly reminded her of her brother that she could almost hear him laugh in the other room.
Why hadn’t she come to visit him here when he was alive? He’d begged her to come last summer.
Ali gently placed the slide rule back in the box. She knew exactly why she hadn’t come, and she might as well admit it: she’d wanted to avoid Robert’s well-intentioned advice on how to live her life. He didn’t meant to, but Robert had always made her feel like a screw-up.
Ali sighed and sat back on her heels. She’d adored her big brother, but he’d been her exact opposite. Practical to a fault, Robert had never made a move without carefully weighing every conceivable consequence. Ali, on the other hand, preferred to tackle life head-on, and everything she touched somehow took an unexpected turn. She had a way of attracting mishaps like a magnet, but that didn’t mean that she was careless or incompetent. Unfortunately, she’d never convinced her brother of that fact. He’d felt it was his duty to point out the error of her ways and he hadn’t abandoned the task once she’d become an adult.
She wiped a tear from her cheek, the mitten rough against her skin. Robert had never known how badly his criticisms had hurt, how much she’d yearned for his acceptance and approval. In fact, the desire to earn his respect was part of the reason she’d moved to Dallas as soon as she’d earned a degree at the local college. She’d hoped to prove herself in the big city—and she’d done a pretty good job of it, too, she thought with a modest burst of pride. In the past five years as an interior designer with a major furniture store, she’d received three promotions.
But her secret plan had been shattered by her brother’s death. She’d always harbored the dream that someday she’d work with Robert and prove that she was capable and mature. If she could do that, maybe she could finally believe, deep down where it counted, that she wasn’t an overgrown child like her mother—that she was strong and competent, that she could function on her own, that her ideas had weight and merit.
Now her only chance to work on one of Robert’s projects was the housing development Matt was building.
Ali chewed the inside of her lip worriedly at the thought of Matt. They hadn’t gotten off to a very good start. He seemed to be laboring under the misguided notion that she needed a surrogate big brother. Judging from the way he’d acted and his remarks about her being unpredictable, her reputation had preceded her.
She blew a stray curl from her forehead in a sharp puff of air as frustration tightened her chest. She’d long ago accepted the fact that an extraordinary number of odd things seemed to happen around her, but other people sometimes had a hard time adjusting to it. Especially rigidly structured, plan-every-detail types like Matt Jordan.
Well, she’d just have to try extra hard to appear capable around him. She’d present her plan in a professional, businesslike manner on Monday, and hopefully he’d agree with her ideas.
Ali’s mouth firmed into a determined line. He had to; this was her only opportunity to pay back the brother who’d stepped into a parental role when their father had died, who’d mowed the piano teacher’s lawn in exchange for her lessons, who’d held a before-school paper route and an after-school restaurant job to pay for braces for her teeth.
Ali rose to her feet and dusted off her knees. Robert had viewed the Victorian Village project as the most important one of his career, and she was determined to help make it a reality.
A surge of energy flowed through her as she thought of her plans. “Come on, Flipper,” she said to her pet, picking up the ladder and heading for the garage door. “Let’s go get your toy.”
The cold wind invigorated her face and lifted her spirits. With Flipper jumping excitedly at her heels, she dragged the ladder across the grass and leaned it against the house.
The moment it was set in place, the little dog dashed up the rungs.
“Flipper! Oh, my gosh—what are you doing?”
Ali watched helplessly as her pet scampered up the ladder. “Come back down here right now,” she ordered. “Flipper!”
But it was too late. Flipper was already on the roof, picking his way across the thick wood shingles toward the disc. Ali gazed in horror as he clamped his teeth around the toy and stretched his head over the edge to look down at her, wagging his stumpy tail. Do dogs get dizzy? she wondered wildly.
“Don’t move! Stay!” she shouted.
“Why? What’s the matter?” an alarmed masculine voice responded.
Ali jerked her head in the direction of the voice and saw Matt entering the backyard, his hand frozen on the gate latch. “Not you—my dog. He’s on the roof!” She pointed to Flipper.
Matt craned his neck, stared up, then blinked in disbelief. Sure enough, a tiny black-and-white dog trotted along the edge of the overhang, a red disc grasped in its jaws. The mutt stopped with his front paws in the rain gutter, looked down at him and growled.
Matt groaned. He’d come over here to straighten things out, figuring he and Ali could have a quiet, rational conversation. He should have known better. With all the normal, sane people in the world, why did his partner have to be related to a complete lunatic?
