by Sharon Sala
Okay, so the worst case scenario would be that he’d have one date with the woman, she wouldn’t be what he wanted and after suffering through dinner with her, he’d never have to see her again. And he’d be off the hook with Bennie.
There had to be a better way to find a wife—one who met his needs. Maybe Bennie could come up with another idea. She seemed to always find solutions to his problems. What would she do, he wondered, if he asked her to find him a wife? Knowing how capable she was, he didn’t doubt for a minute that she’d produce a suitable candidate. But did handpicking a wife fall under the job description for a personal assistant?
“What difference does that make?” he questioned himself aloud. From the very beginning, his relationship with Bennie had been more like partners than employer and employee. As a matter of fact, he had already talked to his lawyer about giving Bennie a piece of the business. After all, she deserved it.
He thought it would make a nice Christmas present.
Of course, he’d have to go through with responding to this personal ad, just to show Bennie he respected her suggestion. Then, if the lady wasn’t suitable, he’d turn Operation Wife Search over to Bennie while he dealt with more important matters.
The minute Holt entered the office, Bennie prepared his morning coffee. With mug in hand and the day’s agenda on her mind, she nudged open his door with her hip. She handed him the coffee, then leaned over his shoulder and punched in a file name on his computer.
Holt liked the way Bennie always smelled—like the roses that had grown in his grandmother’s yard when he was a kid. Tilting his head slightly, he brushed the side of her face with his nose. She jerked away from him as if an electrical current had passed from his body to hers.
“Here’s the list of suppliers you wanted to see.” She nodded to the computer, then eased around the side of his desk and took a seat across from him. “You have a ten o’clock appointment with Mr. Sandler. Then I’ve scheduled you for a haircut and a manicure at eleven-thirty.”
“I don’t need a haircut!”
“Yes, you do. You don’t want to look like a bum for your brother’s wedding tomorrow.” She glanced at his hair. If she didn’t remind him to get haircuts, he’d let his hair grow out shaggy again. It had taken her years of cajoling to persuade him to have an occasional manicure. And even now, he often balked. “Your round-trip ticket to Louisville is on Rene’s desk. Your flight leaves at two-thirty this afternoon and your return flight will get you back to Fairmount around ten tomorrow night. Your hotel reservations are at the Kentucky Inn.”
“Don’t forget to cover for me with Randy Johnson this afternoon.”
“I’ve already scheduled Randy for cocktails and I E-mailed him the new specifications for the bowling alley.”
“Sometimes I think you could run this business without me.” Holt smiled at Bennie, but she didn’t return his smile. He noticed that she was staring at the folded newspaper lying on top of his briefcase. “Oh, yeah, I need you to do something for me while I’m gone.”
“What?” Had she forgotten something? she wondered. She was sure she’d thought of everything. She prided herself on keeping things around the office running smoothly.
Holt lifted the newspaper off his briefcase, opened it to the personal ads section and folded the page in half. “Set things up with this woman, will you?” He handed Bennie today’s issue of the Herald Daily.
When she stared at him, a puzzled expression on her face, he pointed to the ad he’d circled in red ink. “Interview her for me and see what you think. She sounds too good to be true. You’re a pretty good judge of character, so after you talk to her, decide whether or not it would be worth my time to ask her for a date. I’d prefer it if you could get her to come by the office so you could get a good look at her.”
“You want me to handle this for you?” Bennie forced herself to remain calm, to grasp the newspaper without trembling. Had he chosen her ad? Was he asking her to set him up on a date with “SWF, 29, intelligent, attractive professional, DAR member, prestigious family lineage?”
“Absolutely. Contact the paper today and explain the situation—that you’re my assistant, etcetera—then interview this perfect woman, and when I call you tonight, you can give me a report. If she passes muster with you, then you can set up a date for us.”
Bennie glanced down at the newspaper. Her heart caught in her throat when she read the ad Holt had chosen. Her ad. Oh, God, now what?
“Are you sure?” she asked.
“You’re not having second thoughts about this, are you? After all, my checking the personal ads was your idea.” He noted the odd way Bennie was staring at him, as if she were concerned about him. “What are you so worried about? She sounds like a woman who knows exactly what she wants. She’s looking for a man who’ll offer marriage. She didn’t mention anything about love.”
“I think most women consider the two a package deal.”
“Well, you tell her up front that I want a woman who’s interested in a business deal. I’m not going to waste time romancing someone.”
“What if she wants to be romanced?” Bennie asked.
“Then she’s the wrong woman for me.”
“And if she’s interested in a business deal, is there anything in particular that you don’t want in a woman? If her background checks out, then she’s obviously what you’re looking for, but I’m sure you have specific—”
“If her background checks out and she’s not a real dog, then I don’t care if she’s blonde or brunette or if she’s tall and slim or short and plump. All I ask is that she be reasonably attractive.”
“Reasonably attractive,” Bennie said. Am I reasonably attractive? Does Holt think I am?
And as the day wore on, she found herself repeating those questions again and again. She must have been temporarily insane to have suggested to Holt that he pick a wife from the personal ads. Even more so, had she completely lost her mind by allowing Rene to tailor her ad for his specific needs?
“So, what are you going to do?” Rene asked, then bit into her cheeseburger.
Friday night, when most single women had dates, Bennie found herself at a local restaurant with Rene, who had recently broken up with her steady fellow.
“I don’t know. I suppose when Holt calls tonight, I’ll tell him that the lady’s background checks out okay and that she’s reasonably attractive, although a little on the plump side.”
“And what are you going to say when he asks if she’d be interested in a business deal arrangement instead of a love match?” Rene squirted ketchup on her French fries.
“I might have to fudge the truth on that one,” Bennie admitted. “Be honest with me. Do you think I’d be nuts to go through with it, to actually set myself up on a date with Holt?”
“What have you got—”
“To lose. Yeah, yeah, I know.”
“There’s one thing you haven’t thought of,” Rene said. “What if, after your date, Holt offers you marriage on a strictly business basis? After all, you really are the girl of his dreams.”
“This isn’t going to work,” Bennie said. “I was nuts to have thought it would. I won’t marry Holt or any man without love. And you’re right—once Holt realizes that his faithful, loyal assistant possesses all the qualities he wants in a wife, then he’ll probably make me an offer.”
“I fixed up your personal ad too good, didn’t I?” Rene slurped on her cola.
“I told you not to put in the bit about a prestigious lineage or my being a member of the DAR. I’m sure those are the very things that caught Holt’s eye and maybe the very things that would turn off any other guy.”
“So, if you don’t want Holt to know the complete truth about you, tell him that I filled out the ad for you and I embellished it a little.”
“When he calls tonight, maybe I should tell him that the woman was a fraud.”
Running her index finger up and down the moist plastic cup, Rene smiled coyly. “Why is
it that every time Holt is out of town, he calls you?”
“I’m his assistant. Why wouldn’t he call me?”
“He calls you at night, at your house. That doesn’t sound too businesslike to me. What do y’all talk about when he calls?”
“Just what are you getting at?” Bennie asked.
“I’ll bet you two don’t talk about business, do you?”
“Of course we— Sometimes we discuss business. But usually he just tells me about his day. And occasionally we wind up talking about a book we’ve read or a movie we’ve seen or even what’s happening politically in this country.”
“Friend talk.”
“Yes, of course. What else did you expect?”
“Nothing, I suppose. I just find it odd that he doesn’t call whatever woman he happens to be dating at the time. Or better yet, why is he always alone in his hotel room calling you instead of bonking some willing bimbo? We both know Holt doesn’t have any problem attracting women.”
“I don’t know why Holt calls me, other than the fact that we’re friends.” Bennie had wondered, more than once, why Holt often kept her on the phone for an hour or longer, not only when he was out of town, but often when he was home alone. She tried not to question his motives, but she couldn’t stop herself from hoping that he turned to her as a confidante because he cared for her.
Maybe he didn’t realize himself how much she meant to him. Maybe going out on a real date with him would force him to open his eyes and see her as a desirable woman. Setting up this date with Holt could very well be her one big chance—her last chance—with the man she loved.
Bennie stepped out of the shower and wrapped a towel around her wet hair. Just as she began drying off, the phone rang. Holt! She had given up on his calling and decided to bathe and go to bed. After all, it was past midnight.
With moisture dripping from her body, she raced into the bedroom. After checking her caller ID, she grabbed the phone.
“Hello.”
“Bennie?”
“Yes.”
“You sound out of breath. Are you okay?”
“Fine. I was just getting out of the shower.”
An image of Bennie standing naked under a warm shower spray flashed through Holt’s mind. What the hell was wrong with him? He was having lascivious thoughts about his best friend. And this wasn’t the first time! Damn, he should have taken up the offer the stripper at Jason’s party had made to spend the night with him. Instead of tormenting himself with thoughts of what Bennie looked like naked, he could be frolicking with a bleached blonde who probably knew every trick in the book.
“Holt, are you there?” The silence at the other end of the line made her wonder if they’d been disconnected.
“Yeah, I’m here.”
“I thought you’d call me before the bachelor party instead of afterward.”
“To be honest, I wasn’t going to call at all,” he admitted. “I’d pretty much changed my mind about the date with the lady from the personal ad.”
“Oh. I see. So, you want me to call her tomorrow and—”
“What was she like?” he asked. “Did you just talk to her or did you meet her?”
“I—I met her,” Bennie said. “She’s nice.”
“Did you check her out? Is she what she claims to be?”
“Uh, I’m not sure. I’m still checking. I think she might have exaggerated the part about her family lineage, but I don’t think she out-and-out lied. She could be what you’re looking for, if…if you’re willing to settle for—”
“Is she butt ugly?”
Bennie gasped, then laughed. “No, she is not! She has dark hair and is very neat. Medium height. Slightly plump. Pretty, in an ordinary way.”
“Do you think I should set up a date with her or not?” he asked, hoping Bennie would tell him the woman wasn’t worth wasting his time.
“Well, I…uh…” Tell him no and end this farce right now, she told herself. You’re never going to make Holt Jackson love you. He isn’t capable of falling in love with anyone.
“Sounds as if you’ve got some doubts about this lady being the right woman for me,” he said, seeming relieved.
“Actually, I think this lady is the right woman for you,” Bennie heard herself saying as if the voice were coming from someone else.
“Oh. So, you think I should have dinner with her and see for myself if she’s—”
“Yes, I think you should meet her and judge for yourself.”
“Well, all right, if you think so.”
“Is next Saturday night too soon?” Bennie lifted her robe from the foot of the bed, eased her arms into the sleeves, then sat on the bed and stuffed her feet and legs under the covers.
“No, Saturday night’s fine.”
“I’ll make arrangements for you. I assume you want me to make dinner reservations.”
“Yeah. You know her type. Set up something you think she’d like.”
“Should I have Rene order flowers for the lady?”
“Sure. Tell her to send the usual dozen red roses.”
“This lady doesn’t like red roses,” Bennie told Holt. “She prefers white roses.”
“Yeah, she would. They’re more expensive, aren’t they?”
“Yes, they are. So, do you or do you not want Rene to order white roses for her?”
“Yeah. And make it two dozen. We want her to know just how loaded I am, don’t we? Two dozen roses should impress her.”
“All right. I’ll have everything set up when you get back. Just give me a call Saturday morning and I’ll let you know the time and place you’re to meet her.”
“Sure thing. By the way, what’s her name?”
“Her name?” Oh, God, what could she say? She could hardly tell him the woman’s name was Marianne Bennett, could she? “The lady asked to remain anonymous until the night you meet. I’m afraid she’s a bit of a romantic.”
“Damn, Bennie, I told you—”
“She knows how you feel about love,” Bennie said. “I explained that, if things work out between the two of you, you’re interested in marriage, but not in love.”
“And she agreed to that?”
“She’s willing to meet you and see what happens.”
As Bennie clutched the phone to her ear, she yawned loudly. She lay down on the bed, then curled up against her pillow.
“Are you sleepy?” Holt asked. “I thought I heard you yawn.”
“Just tired. It’s been a long day.”
“I’m sorry I called so late. I should have waited until morning.”
“That’s all right.” She didn’t care when he called—day or night. Just listening to his voice was a pleasure.
“Why do you put up with me, Bennie? I’m so inconsiderate and I’m always taking advantage of you. I’m surprised you’re still my friend, after all the times I’ve imposed on you.”
Why do I put up with you? Oh, Holt, you idiot. I love you. I love you so much it hurts. Why is it that everyone else can see how I feel, but you’re totally blind? “You’d be there for me, if I needed you, wouldn’t you, Holt?”
“You know I would,” he assured her. “I’d do just about anything for you.”
Love me, she wanted to scream. Love me the way I love you. “Did you have fun at the bachelor party tonight?”
“I guess,” he said. “I can’t believe my brother’s getting married again. This makes wife number three and the guy’s only thirty-two!”
“Looks like he’s going to keep trying until he gets it right.”
“I intend to get it right the first time,” Holt told her. “None of this falling in and out of love. Just two sensible people willing to go into a marriage based on mutual respect and reasonable expectations.”
“All marriages based on love don’t end in divorce,” Bennie said.
“No, not all, just half, according to the latest statistics.”
“So, you think a mutually beneficial business deal marriage will prevent
a divorce? That not being in love with your wife assures you both of a long-lasting marriage?”
“You sound as if you disagree with me. Don’t tell me that my sensible, levelheaded Bennie is actually looking for love.” Holt chuckled. “I’ve never thought of you as the type who’d expect romance in a relationship. I thought you were far too smart for that.”
“Just goes to show you that you don’t know me as well as you think you do.”
“You don’t have a secret lover stashed away that you haven’t told me about, do you?” Holt asked teasingly.
“If he’s a secret lover, then I would hardly tell you about him, would I?”
“Are you saying that you actually have a secret—”
“I’m saying good night. You need to get some sleep so you’ll be alert for your brother’s noon wedding. And I need at least a couple hours of rest before I head back to the office and hold down the fort for you while you’re gone.”
“I know a brush-off when I hear one.” Holt chuckled again.
“Then say good night.”
“Set up the date for me,” he said. “And Bennie?”
“Yes?”
“I hope this secret lover of yours deserves you. I wouldn’t let just any man have you, you know.”
Chapter 3
Holt read over the directions to Wildwood Lodge, a restaurant and inn about fifteen miles outside Fairmount. He didn’t like the idea of meeting this woman at such a romantic place and he’d told Bennie so. But she had assured him that this kind of fancy restaurant would be just what his mystery lady expected.
“I’ve been to the Wildwood Lodge,” Bennie had said. “It’s the kind of place I adore. And since this lady and I seem to have a great deal in common, I’m sure she’ll love it, too.”
He had grumbled about Wildwood Lodge giving his mystery lady the wrong idea, but he now realised the real reason he’d been so out of sorts with Bennie. The minute she’d mentioned having been to the Wildwood Lodge, he’d wondered with whom she’d shared a romantic evening. He hadn’t realized there was a special man in her life.
