Set Up in SoHo (The Matchmaker Chronicles)

by Dee Davis

  “You just want to see the best in everyone. There’s nothing wrong with that.”

  “Well, I didn’t see the best in you. I blamed you for what happened with my mother. I thought you drove her away.”

  Althea laughed. “As if I could have. Melina has never done anything she didn’t want to do.”

  “Including abandoning me.” I hated the bitterness in my voice, but I couldn’t help it. Reality bites. “All this time I believed in a person who doesn’t exist.”

  “She does exist, Andrea. On some level. Your mother lives in the moment. And when you have the chance to share that moment with her, it can be magical.”

  “Do you really believe that?”

  “Yes,” she said. “I do. People are what they are. And we have to accept them for that. Otherwise, we’re doomed to be disappointed. But there’s no doubt in my mind that Melina loves you. She just doesn’t know how to be a mother.”

  “You weren’t afraid to step up to the plate. And I wasn’t even your child.”

  “You were always my child, Andrea.” She smiled, reaching over to squeeze my hands. “From the first time I saw your tiny little face. There was never a contest in my mind. It wasn’t a sacrifice.”

  “But you loved Philip.”

  “And he ran away with my sister. But the past is just that— the past.”

  “So, do you ever talk to her? Melina, I mean?” I hadn’t consciously chosen to use her given name. It had just slipped out. But with the pronouncement, something inside me shifted. I let some of the pain go, the relief actually palpable. Like the moment after you jump off the high dive when your fear morphs into elation. I knew it probably wouldn’t last. That there were still emotions I had to deal with. But for the moment, at least, the sensation was freeing.

  “Not often.” Althea shrugged. “We don’t really have all that much to say. Mother keeps me up-to-date, and that’s enough.”

  “You must hate her.”

  “It’s not that simple. She’s my sister. And I accepted her for who she is a long time ago.”

  “And Philip? Have you talked to him?”

  “Since he’s been back in New York? No. Although I probably should have. It might have made things easier for you. But you like to do things on your own, and you seemed to have things under control.”

  “Now there’s a misperception.” I laughed, marveling at how comfortable I felt sharing with Althea. For a moment I considered that maybe this wasn’t my aunt. Maybe this new, softer woman was a pod person or a clone or something equally nefarious. Or maybe, for the first time, I was just seeing things for what they really were.

  “Everything seemed to be progressing well the last time we talked,” Althea was saying. “Has something happened?”

  “He turned me down. His publicist said it was because of you. I thought she meant all the brouhaha surrounding the bet and Vanessa and Mark’s engagement. But of course she was talking about you and Melina.”

  “Well, that just isn’t going to do,” Althea said, her expression hardening. “I simply won’t let something that happened a lifetime ago impact you in a negative way.”

  “I’m not sure there’s anything you can do about it. And even if you could, I’m not sure that I’d want you to. I mean, the man is slime. After what he did to you, I have no interest whatsoever in working with him.”

  “What happened to me happened a long time ago,” she said, her voice soft. “It was humiliating, and painful, and something I’d have just as soon had been left buried. But the real truth of it is that Philip DuBois was the loser. Not me. I got you. He got Melina.”

  It was perhaps the nicest thing anyone had ever said to me. “I appreciate the sentiment. But no matter who got the better deal, I am still not comfortable working with the man.”

  “What about prime time?” she asked, cutting right to the heart of the matter.

  “I’ll just have to get there some other way. If not now, then later. We’ve got a good show. And we don’t need Philip DuBois to prove it. The powers that be will just have to get a grip.”

  “I love you for saying that,” Althea said, “but there’s no point in cutting off your nose for the sake of my face. Or something like that.”

  “It’s a mixed-up metaphor but I get the point.” I was kind of liking this “Althea and Andi against the world” thing.

  “So you’ll let me talk to him?”

  “I don’t know.”

  “I can get him to change his mind,” she said. “I mean, worst case, I can just threaten to air his dirty laundry.”

  “You don’t mean that.”

  “Well, only as a last resort. This isn’t a vendetta. But I won’t allow what happened between Philip, Melina, and me to negatively impact you any more than it already has. I want your show to succeed. And if cooking with Philip DuBois is part of the package, then I’ll do whatever is necessary to make sure it happens.” Now here was the Althea I knew and loved. The queen of manipulation. Only this time she was on my side—or maybe she’d always been on my side and I’d just been too blind to see it.

  Anyway, there was really no arguing with Althea once her mind was made up. “All right, then. Talk to Philip. Do your worst.”

  “Or best.” She smiled. “It all depends on how you look at it.”

  And that was, of course, exactly the point. It was all about point of view. And mine had been seriously askew. My mother might look at the world through rose-colored glasses, but I’d been wearing blinders. And it was past time to get rid of them. To accept my life for what it really was. I wasn’t my mother. And I wasn’t Althea. I was hopefully the best of them both. And more important, I was me. Andi. And that had to count for something.

  “So,” Althea said, pulling me back to the conversation at hand. “It’s settled. I’ll call Philip. But before I do that, we still have one more thing we need to talk about.”

  My newfound maturity headed south. The last thing I wanted to discuss was Ethan. Better to just close the door and move on. “Honestly, Althea, I don’t think there’s anything left to say.”

  “There’s a lot to be said, Andi.” I don’t think Althea had ever actually called me Andi before. I know it’s not that big a deal, but it felt good. Right, actually. “And up until now the only person talking has been Diana Merreck.”

  “Believe me, she said enough for everyone.”

  “But she didn’t tell you the whole truth. And if I’ve learned anything today, it’s that it’s important to be completely honest. So I’ll admit that I helped to set you up with Ethan. But I didn’t approach him. He came to me.”

  “What do you mean?” I asked, my stomach going creepy crawly on me.

  “He came to me that night in the hospital. He was intrigued. But he knew you were in a bad place. What with Dillon and the breakup and everything. So he asked me for advice. And initially I agreed that it probably wasn’t the optimal time for a new man in your life. But he was quite insistent. And so I came up with the idea of arranging for him to seemingly accidentally run into you.”

  “At the park. I can’t believe I didn’t see it for what it was.”

  “A man so interested in a woman he’s willing to ask her family for help?”

  “You make it sound so normal.”

  “Well, if you put aside my profession, it is normal. And because I liked him and I love you, I agreed.”

  “To set me up.”

  “To facilitate the two of you coming together.”

  “But Diana said—”

  “Diana doesn’t know squat. There were no ulterior motives. Except maybe the fact that I wanted to make things better for you. How could I not? Dillon hurt you badly, and you have to know by now that I’d have done anything to make that better. Including shooting the boy if I thought that would have helped.”

  “You never liked Dillon.”

  “It doesn’t matter what I thought. You loved him. And I know what it feels like to have someone you love hurt you.”

&nb
sp; “So you were just trying to help ease the pain?”

  “Yes.” She nodded. “And I thought—still think, actually— that Ethan could make that happen.”

  “And Ethan, he really just wanted to go out with me?”

  “That’s pretty much it. You fell into the cellar and he fell for you.”

  “So you’re saying that everything that happened, everything I said, I got it all wrong—again? I blew my chance at happiness because I believed what Diana said?”

  “It doesn’t have to be over,” Althea said. “There might need to be a little groveling on your part. But he was in the wrong, too. He did lie to you.”

  “Because I was so obsessed with the idea of you meddling in my life that I drove him to it.”

  “It wasn’t your fault. I do meddle. It’s part of who I am. I can’t help myself. That’s why I’m a good matchmaker. And maybe not such a good aunt?”

  “You’re better than good. I just wasn’t seeing things in the right light.”

  “Anyway,” she said, “the point is that there’s hope for the two of you.”

  “No, actually, there isn’t,” I said, staring down at my hands. “You see, Dillon helped me get out of The Pierre last night. And then he sort of stayed over.”

  “I take it he didn’t sleep on the sofa.”

  I shook my head. “He was really wonderful. He told Diana off, snuck me out the back way, and then apologized for everything that had happened. We talked and drank—a lot. And one thing led to another. . . Anyway, Ethan arrived to find Dillon without a shirt and me wearing a bedsheet. It wasn’t pretty.”

  “Did you and Ethan talk at all?”

  “Yeah. Sort of. I let him have it. And he . . . well, he didn’t have much to say. Which I guess, considering the circumstances, was understandable. Anyway, you can see now that our getting back together is out of the question. I pretty much sealed the deal, so to speak, when I slept with my ex.”

  “And what about Dillon?”

  “I’m not sure what you mean?”

  “Are the two of you getting back together?” she asked, brows drawn together in concern.

  “No. I don’t know why I ever thought we had a chance. You were right. We have nothing in common.”

  “You loved each other.”

  “But that’s not enough, is it? There has to be something more. Something to build on. And with Dillon, there just isn’t anything there.”

  “But you still slept with him.”

  “I was devastated and drunk,” I said, being completely honest with her.

  “Not a good combination,” she acknowledged.

  I shook my head. “I don’t really remember all that much. But I guess I just needed to know that someone cared. Anyway, I knew the moment I saw the two of them standing there this morning that what I had with Dillon was over. And as soon as Ethan left, I told him as much.”

  “Sounds to me like you’ve got your head on straight. I’m just sorry it had to play out the way it did. And I honestly regret setting the whole thing in motion by not telling you about Ethan’s interest in the first place.”

  “You had good reasons to handle things the way you did. It’s no one’s fault. It just is what it is. And it’s time for me to move on. It’s like you said, sometimes it’s better not to dwell on the past.”

  “I was talking about something that happened twenty years ago. You and Ethan . . .”

  “Althea ...” I crossed my arms, glaring at her.

  “But I was only—”

  “Trying to help?” We both broke into laughter, and suddenly the whole world seemed brighter. Out of all the bad something intrinsically good had arisen. I’d found my mother. My real mother. And the funny thing was, she’d been right here under my nose the whole time. Sometimes one really can’t see the trees for the forest. Or however that goes.

  “All right,” my mother said, still smiling. “I promise. No more meddling.”

  It was a brave statement. And I think in her own way she probably meant it. At least in that moment.

  But I knew better.

  Some things just aren’t that easy to change.

  Chapter 26

  New York in the springtime is like a beautiful reawakening. Especially after a rain. Blustery winds and gray clouds give way to budding branches and bright blue sky, everything smelling fresh and sweet.

  And there’s no prettier place, in my opinion, than the Ramble in Central Park. The long winding paths are the perfect place for thinking. And, eventually, when you spill out onto the far side of the boat pond, it’s almost like walking into a postcard. Rowboats idyllically bob in the pond as pedestrians amble along rain-washed pathways, the soft hollow wail of a saxophone carried on the breeze.

  Althea had worked her magic. It had taken a bit of persuasion, but Philip DuBois had agreed to do the show. I still wasn’t sure that we wouldn’t have been better off just forgetting the whole thing, but in some weird kind of way I think talking to him had given her closure. And Cassie and Clinton were over the moon.

  Cassie had taken the news to the big guns and word was that we had the inside track on the prime time special.

  Don’t get me wrong—I was really happy about the show—but funnily, it didn’t seem to matter as much as it had a month ago. Shifting priorities, I suppose. Anyway, we were all celebrating tonight. Althea’s treat. Craft. Which, as I’ve already noted, has the most amazing food. But before facing my friends, I’d wanted a little time on my own. And so I’d left Althea’s and headed for the park.

  So much had changed. Not the least of which was me. I had been so certain that I knew what I wanted in life. That I had a handle on where I was going and where I’d been. Turns out I didn’t have a clue. Everything had been based on a version of my life that didn’t actually exist.

  I’d spent years rejecting everything Althea stood for. And now, it turned out, she was my true north. I’d spent my whole life chasing after an image of my mother. An ideal I’d created of a free spirit. And yet, in the end, it turned out that she’d simply been running away. Hiding from reality. Pretending that mistakes she’d made didn’t exist.

  Mistakes like me.

  But Althea had stepped in. She’d loved and protected me. And driven me insane. Pretty much the definition of a mother. Right?

  Only I’d refused to see it, clinging instead to a fairy-tale person who didn’t exist. Trying to emulate her. When in reality I wasn’t anything like her at all. Real or imagined.

  I’d chosen Dillon because he seemed to embody the ideal I sought. But I’d lied to myself. Pretended I wanted the same things he did. When in truth, I yearned for stability. For a family. For a place where I truly belonged.

  Then Ethan had come along and, despite all my misguided notions, he’d showed me what life could be like when someone really cared. Only I’d thrown it all away with my preconceived judgments and overreactions. Not to mention the horizontal pity party with my ex.

  I’d been afraid. Pure and simple.

  And so I’d blown my chance at happiness by refusing to see it for what it really was.

  I sighed and settled down on a bench by the edge of the water, just as my cell rang. I pulled out the phone, my heart quickening. Maybe . . .

  It was Bethany.

  “Hey there,” I said, swallowing my disappointment. “I was wondering when I’d hear from you. I’ve been leaving messages.”

  “I’m sorry,” she said. “I’ve had my phone turned off. I’ve been with Michael.”

  “So tell me?” I asked, holding my breath, praying for a positive answer.

  “Everything is great. I finally convinced him that I didn’t want to break up. That I was just scared about moving in. Anyway, he’s willing to give it another try. So I guess that means we’re officially back together again.”

  “That’s wonderful,” I said. “Honestly, Bethany, I’m so happy for you.”

  “Thank you. I can’t quite believe it myself. But I never would have gone to talk
to him if it hadn’t been for you. If I didn’t know better, I’d say you were turning into Althea.”

  Twenty-four hours ago, that comment would have pissed me off. But now—well, amazingly, it felt like a compliment. Not that I was going into the family business, mind you. “I’m just glad it worked out. You and Michael belong together.”

  “I wasn’t sure I should tell you. I mean, I wanted you to know, but under the circumstances I thought. . .” She paused, her voice hesitant.

  “That I couldn’t deal,” I finished for her. “I can see why you’d think that. But you’re wrong. I couldn’t stand not knowing how things turned out. That’s one of the reasons I’ve been leaving messages every five minutes.”

  “Well, it’s all wonderful,” she gushed. “In fact, we’re even revisiting the idea of moving in together.”

  “That’s huge.”

  “I know. But I’m working off what you said. That we have to grab on to chance when it comes by. Anyway, enough about me. What about you? Last time we talked you were off to wring Althea’s neck.”

  “Fortunately for me, she didn’t answer her cell,” I said, laughing at the thought. “I’m sure I would have just said something I regretted. Anyway, since she wasn’t around, I decided to try Harriet’s and wound up talking to Bernie instead.”

  “Always the voice of reason.”

  “More than you’ll ever know. She gave me a lot to think about, and, as a result, I wound up having a long talk with Althea.”

  “For the good, I hope.”

  “I think so. But it’s too long a story to tell you over the phone. I’ll save it for when we’re together. Which brings me to the other reason I called. I actually have some good news. Philip DuBois agreed to do the show.”

  “You’re kidding? That’s great.”

  “I know. And even more amazing, it’s all Althea’s doing. Anyway, she’s taking Clinton, Cassie, and me out to celebrate. And I wanted you to come, too.”

  “If it were any other night, I’d be there in a second, but—”