“Pretty much, what?” As usual Teddy read between the lines and persisted.
“As we were parting he called me a liar.”
“What?” Her eyes grew big.
“Not in those exact words. He asked me if everything I put in my profile was true.”
“Well it was, wasn’t it?” Teddy asked.
“Teddy!”
“I mean,” she stammered. “We all like to embellish ourselves a little online.”
“I did not embellish.”
At that moment the phone rang. Diana got up to leave. At the door Teddy stopped her. “Well, at least he’s good-looking,” she said.
Diana frowned at her and went to her own office. It was a contrast to the orderliness of Teddy’s. Diana worked in chaos. She knew where everything was, and she could put her hands on it without error.
Good-looking, Teddy had said. Diana supposed if she thought about him without the animosity that clouded his image, Scott was pleasant to look at. More than that. He had great eyes. They were probably his best feature, dark brown, fringed by long lashes. His cheeks had dimples that drove the women crazy in college. They hadn’t diminished in effect in the ten years since they graduated. He wasn’t a football player, but his lean features boded well for the diving team. Diana remembered the broad shoulders that tapered to a thin waist and strong muscular legs. Diana had to admit he was good-looking. If she was planning one of her bridal fashion shows, he’d be a shoo-in for a tuxedo model.
Diana glanced down at her desk. Several bridal magazines lay open in front of her. One by one she scanned the pages and studied the grooms. Not one of the men smiling up at her had an ounce of the gorgeous good looks that Scott Thomas had.
Looks weren’t everything, she thought. The man was still a jerk. And even though he could turn the head of every woman in town, Diana knew the two of them should never have been matched.
* * *
Scott loosened his tie and opened his collar in the same instant he came through the garage door into the mudroom. As usual the house was cool and quiet. In the kitchen he opened the refrigerator and grabbed the container of orange juice. It was nearly empty. He lifted the container to drink, but his mother’s words came back to him, and he poured a glassfull and drank it in one long gulp.
The answering machine showed eight new messages. Aside from his sister, people usually called or sent text messages to his cell phone. It was unusual for anyone to contact him on his landline. Checking his cell, he found another nine unread texts. As he scrolled through them he felt both grateful and disappointed that none were from Diana. Why he should expect to see anything from her, he didn’t understand. She’d made it plain that there could never be anything between them, so why would he think she’d call? Apology, maybe. He shook his head. That was unlikely.
Pressing the button on the answering machine he listened to the calls. Most of them were either from Bill Quincy or his bride-to-be, Jennifer Embry, a couple who’d talked him into being a member of their wedding this afternoon while he was on the street with Diana. Bill thanked him for standing in for Oscar Peterson, who’d been in an accident and would be laid up for the next several weeks. He’d recover, but not in time for the nuptials. Jennifer, a numerologist, wouldn’t have her numbers thrown out of whack. Scott knew she’d postpone the wedding before doing that.
The other calls were from Jennifer giving him details of where and when he needed to be. She called to change his tuxedo appointment twice.
The reason he agreed to stand in for Oscar was that Bill had told him the wedding was being planned by Diana’s firm. At the time he thought it was ironic and he wanted to get him off the phone. But now he was sorry he’d agreed. Impulsiveness wasn’t one of his traits. As a pilot he had to be steady and thoughtful, but Bill was a friend. To stand up for him, he’d make the sacrifice. Scott felt no disappointment at not being included in the original plans. He could do without weddings. Being involved in one was something to be avoided, like air pockets and bumper-to-bumper traffic. He was sure when Bill called him, he was last on the list and the only one available.
Scott was committed now. He had an appointment for a tuxedo fitting, and his name had been added to the programs. Jennifer expected him at the rehearsal and the rehearsal dinner. The wedding was the following weekend.
The answering machine clicked off. Scott grabbed the television remote and pressed the power button. He smiled to himself. What was Diana going to think when he showed up at the wedding rehearsal? He remembered her strutting out of sight as she walked into the garage. Her parting words told him that she never wanted to see him again. She was wrong. She’d see him. And sooner than she thought.
He’d angered her. There had been times in the past when he’d intentionally intimidated her, but today that wasn’t his plan. They had rubbed each other the wrong way since their first meeting. While he’d followed her to the garage, she could have heard only one side of the conversation he was having—if she was listening. He was sure she was. In his experience, women always listened. But Diana had never followed the mold. He couldn’t say he knew her, but he knew that beneath the facade of calm she showed to the world was a smoldering woman. He’d found that out when he kissed her on campus in broad daylight, a lifetime ago.
To think that all these years later, he could still remember that kiss. Her kiss. Scott had kissed his share of women. They seemed to hover around him like skydivers in formation, but none of them were memorable. None but Diana.
And next weekend he’d have another chance to piss her off.
* * *
Scott didn’t know how long he’d been waiting, but he was getting irritated. He had a flight today, and he needed to get this fitting done and return to this office. Pulling out his phone, he reviewed his missed calls. His sister Piper’s number and her photo appeared on the display. He couldn’t help smiling. The photo was taken at her wedding four years ago. It was of the two of them, their faces near replicas of their parents. He should have returned her previous call, but with all the appointments this wedding required, it slipped his mind. He pushed the send button and waited for her to answer.
“Hi,” she said. “I’ve been dying to talk to you. How was the meeting? What did she look like? I have a thousand questions. Did the two of you connect?”
Scott laughed from deep in his belly. His sister was a nonstop talking machine. He sobered and tried to decide how to begin and how much to tell. He should have thought of this before he dialed her number. He’d tell her about the meeting. He could describe Diana, give Piper all the answers she wanted, but he would leave out the fact that the woman in question was Brainiac.
“Well, go on. Tell me,” she commanded. “Is she the woman of your dreams?”
“I’m not sure about that.”
“Did she meet all those ridiculous requirements you put in?”
“I haven’t found that out yet,” Scott said. “We only met for lunch. I didn’t have time to interrogate her.” Scott’s forced laugh took the sting out of his words.
He went through describing Diana. He told Piper she had dark hair, omitting that it was lustrous and fell over her shoulders and down her back like a cascading waterfall. He shared that her eyes were brown, but he didn’t add that they were like looking into melting pools of coal. He said she was dressed in business clothes, but didn’t say that the suit hugged her curves the way his hands wanted to or that her shoes supported legs that were as long as the Garden State Parkway.
“Did the two of you connect?” she asked.
“In a way,” Scott hedged, knowing his sister would not let that go.
“What do you mean?”
“Remember the woman I told you about when I was in college? The one with the long hair.”
“You mean the one who always had her head in a book?” Piper asked. “Didn’t
you call her something? Brain something. Yeah, Brainiac.”
“Her name is Diana Greer.” It was her, but Scott didn’t want to tell his sister. He’d said so many things about Diana that were not flattering that he didn’t want Piper to have a more negative picture of her than had already been painted.
“Was it her?”
“It was her,” he admitted.
Piper laughed for a moment. “It’s like that movie. You probably don’t know it. It’s a chick flick—You’ve Got Mail. The couple don’t realize they know each other. It has–”
“I know the movie,” Scott interrupted.
Piper seemed to sober. “I’m sorry this didn’t work out, Scott.” Piper was the only person he’d told about the matchmaking service. Of course she supported him. She always did. “I remember you said she had so much hair that when she had her nose in a book, she looked like Cousin Itt.”
Scott winced at that. “She’s changed a lot.”
“I hope so. “ Piper paused. “Are you going to try again?”
“This is not over yet,” Scott told her.
“You’re seeing her again?” Surprise was evident in her voice.
“At a wedding next weekend.” He forced a laugh for the second time. “I’m a replacement in Bill Quincy’s wedding. Diana’s company is the wedding consultant.”
“From what you told me, I thought she’d be running General Motors by now. She’s a wedding consultant?”
“Actually she owns her own business. Weddings by Diana. She’s got stores in several states. While they might not be General Motors, if you put her up against the president of GM she could hold her own.”
“Oh.” Piper held on to the word as if it was the end of a song. She sounded impressed.
“You’ve heard of them?”
“Who hasn’t? She’s been all over the financial pages. It seems everything she touches turned to green, that’s as in money. Her franchises have been expanding like they were a fast food chain. I wish I’d used her when I got married.”
Scott felt his heart tug at that. When he saw Diana he was impressed that she had changed over the years, but her changes were for the better. He supposed she was always there under the hair and out of the book, but he rarely saw her or even looked at her. It wasn’t until that one day in front of Nassau Hall that he saw her face. It was naked of any makeup. Her skin was flawless, and the depths of her dark eyes were enough to drive a man crazy.
And where she was concerned, he was all male.
Chapter 2
The parking lot of Darlington Wedding Gowns and Tuxedos was packed when Diana pulled into the only available space. And that was as far from the door as she could get. Darlington had been several steps away from her offices, but with Scott’s new use for the property practically everyone had relocated. The store was now housed in a huge strip mall several miles from her.
Final fittings for the Embry-Quincy wedding party was scheduled for today. Diana wouldn’t let anything having to do with Scott deter her. She stepped into the June heat and felt her clothes and body deflate. It shouldn’t be in the nineties this early in the season. And she shouldn’t be here. First she was the owner. She worked with the managers of new locations and Teddy ran the consultant staff. But Jennifer Embry came from old money, and she insisted Diana consult her wedding. As such she was the wedding planner, not the dress approver. However, she’d learned early in this business that a wedding planner’s duties were fluid. Some brides were demanding. Others only wanted her to take care of the ceremony and the reception. But she and Teddy ran a soup-to-nuts organization.
Pulling open the door of Darlington’s, she silently thanked the air-conditioning gods for their invention of such a useful mechanism.
“Diana,” Jennifer greeted her with a relieved smile. “I’m glad to see you.”
Jennifer stood in front of a triple wall of mirrors, her white gown billowing around her.
“You look beautiful,” she told her client.
“The hem is too long. The gloves aren’t the same color as the gown. I can’t see through the veil.”
Susan Dollard, the store owner, frowned. Diana smiled back at her.
“Jennifer, remember we know that items of different materials will not be exactly the same color due to shine, weaving methods, difference in lots, and a hundred other reasons. Just focus on the day. It’s going to be beautiful. I know the alterations will be completed while we wait.”
The seamstress was on the floor with her needle and thread, quickly adjusting the length. Diana stepped back to get a good look at the bride. “You look gorgeous. Just wait until Bill sees you in this gown.”
The praise wasn’t false. Jennifer glowed in her gown. It was a perfect fit and style for the tall, majestic-looking blonde.
“The veil, Ms. Embry.” Susan came forward with the altered crown.
“Let me,” Diana said, reaching for the soft concoction of netting. Stepping up on the platform with Jennifer, she placed it on her head and spread out the folds of fabric. “Is it better?” she asked.
Jennifer turned back to the wall of mirrors. Tears were in her voice when she answered.
“Great,” Diana said, glad to have appeased another bride. She stepped off the platform and onto the floor. “How’s everything else?”
“Fine,” Jennifer said. Then she turned to Susan and the seamstress and apologized. Both women smiled. They’d been through this scene a hundred or more times. “Oh, by the way,” Jennifer said. “There’s been a replacement for one of the groomsmen.”
“I got your message.” She should have said messages. Diana wondered if three was a significant number for Jennifer. She’d told her three times about Oscar’s replacement, yet she never mentioned who the replacement was. Brides, even those as organized as Jennifer, had lapses of memory.
“He’s next door getting fitted for his tux.”
“Let me go introduce myself.” Diana liked knowing the members of the wedding party. In case of an emergency, she knew who she was looking for. She took the digital camera she always carried from her purse. She’d take a photo and label it to be sure. Jennifer Embry had twelve bridesmaids and an equal number of groomsmen. It was impossible to keep all the names straight, even though Diana was good with names and faces. Still, she relied on file photos to help her or one of her assistants in case she had to delegate duties.
The gown and tuxedo shops were connected by a short passageway. It was designed both to keep the noise down and to provide privacy. Diana didn’t use it. She preferred to enter from the outside.
The bells chimed when she entered the shop. Several people browsed the various colors and styles of men’s clothing. All of the dressing room doors were closed. Judging by the parking lot, the place was full.
“Jeremy,” she called.
The clerk came from the last dressing room. “Ms. Greer, how are you?” When they were alone Jeremy was very informal and called her Diana; occasionally and with several drinks under his belt, she was Di. When she came in the shop, she was Ms. Greer. To her he was always Jeremy. He and Susan were man and wife, but they kept to their separate areas unless need forced one to the other side of the causeway.
“I’m looking for the new member of the Embry-Quincy wedding. The bride told me he was here and I wanted to introduce myself.”
Someone said something from behind them and one of the other clerks went to aid the customer.
“He’s waiting for his fitting.” Jeremy indicated one of the dressing room doors.
“I can wait a few minutes.”
“It might be longer than that. I’m short-handed and swamped. Three parties are due in any moment now and I have all the dressing rooms filled.” Suddenly, he put a hand to his chin. Then he looked at Diana with a strange expression. “I wouldn’t like to imp
ose, but you do know the ropes? Do you have a moment to help out?”
Diana never refused Jeremy anything. He’d helped her get started by giving her mountains of advice that saved her from some major pitfalls. Before his move to this location she had worked in his store for over a year and had learned how to take measurements.
“The Embry-Quincy wedding is in the Red Room.” He smiled and offered her the tape measure hanging around his neck. “I believe the new member may need his nerves soothed.”
Diana smiled. She’d often been called upon to settle a guy whose mind was on other tasks. She glanced at the dressing rooms. Jeremy named his rooms after those in the White House. It gave the place a little elegance, he said, and who wants to dress in Room 3 when they could have the Red Room? Diana still remembered the expression on his face when he gave more credence to a false name than to a nondescript number.
Taking the tape measure, she dropped her purse in his office and knocked lightly on the door of the dressing room. “I’m here to take your measurements,” she said before going in. She wanted the man to know she was female in case Jeremy had told him to remove his pants. Or if he was shy.
“Come in.”
Diana stepped through the door and quickly closed it. Although Jeremy’s dressing rooms were huge and set up like the entrance to a home, with a foyer section and a comfortable living room, sporting a large mirror that covered one wall, Diana couldn’t be sure the client wasn’t standing near the door in full view of whomever was outside. When she turned back she saw only her reflection across the spacious gray-colored carpeting. The subdued floor contrasted with the bright furnishings. Walking several steps past a wall that set off the foyer area, she came face-to-face with the last person on the planet she expected to see.
Diana didn’t know which one of them was more surprised.
“What are you doing here?” they asked at the same time.
Diana recovered first. “I’m here to take your measurements if you are the replacement in the Embry-Quincy wedding.”
His Love Match Page 2
