Miss Match: a Lauren Holbrook novel

by Erynn Mangum

  Ryan bursts. “Are you kidding? John Wayne is my favorite actor.”

  Obviously, we’ll need some time to work with Ryan on his choice of actors.

  “Remember the strongboxes?” Hannah goes on.

  “Yep.”

  “Bring at least one. You can lock up the chocolate and then stand guard with the darts.”

  Ryan laughs.

  Suddenly, a dart hits me square in the forehead.

  Cupid is at work, apparently, and letting me know.

  Hannah.

  Ryan.

  Already they have something in common — Old West movies, bless their future children’s hearts.

  Ryan will be easy. Hannah, beautiful and intelligent, can steal the heart of a cold-blooded shark.

  Mental note: Talk to Dad. Tell him not to mention the fishing trip again until a week before. This is getting ridiculous.

  Hannah might be harder. But hanging around a bunch of Christians is apparently rubbing off on her. The salvation issue may not be a problem soon. I’m hopeful, anyway.

  But if looks mean anything to her . . .

  Just keep him smiling. He might be plain to look at, but when he smiles, his whole face lights up. Pretty cute. Like watching a little fourth grader’s expression when he climbs to the top of the monkey bars for the first time.

  Plus, he has nice teeth. And pretty eyelashes.

  This can work.

  “So, Ryan,” I butt in, “what are you doing for lunch today?”

  He blinks a few times. “Probably eating.”

  “Want to join us? Brandon owes us lunch out, and you’re officially invited.”

  “Well . . .”

  “You aren’t seriously going to turn down free food,” I lecture. “At Vizzini’s? Come on, Ryan. The future reputation of bachelors everywhere is resting on your shoulders.”

  He smiles. Good. Keep smiling. “Uh, sure, I’ll go. I guess.”

  I am ecstatic. “Great! Twelve thirty work?”

  “Sure.” He squeezes Ruby. “See you at twelve thirty, then.”

  “Okay.” Ruby masks her confusion quite nicely. She has come a long way.

  Ryan leaves.

  I leave the room a microsecond later. Better to explain The New Plan to Ruby in private, away from Hannah’s nosy ears.

  I crash open Brandon’s office door. To his credit, he doesn’t even look up. “Hey, Laurie.”

  I cross the room and take a seat on top of his desk. “How’d you know it was me?”

  “Deduction. Ruby and Hannah don’t bang doors. So it was either you or a robber, and I didn’t hear screams out front.” He smiles, leaning back in his chair. “What’s up?”

  “Here you go.”

  He takes the money with a frown. “You’re giving me forty bucks?”

  “For lunch.”

  “I’m buying lunch?”

  “Yes.”

  He morphs into principal-mode. “What did you just do?” Folds his hands on his desk, straightens his shoulders, cools his eyes.

  Brandon picked the wrong career. He’s pretty good at playing principal.

  “Well, you’re taking us out to lunch today.”

  “I am.” His voice is flat.

  “Yep.”

  “Who is us?”

  “You, me, Ruby, Hannah, and,” I clear my throat, “Ryan, possibly Ty and Newton.”

  “Ryan?” he jumps on the name. “Who’s Ryan and why are we taking him?”

  I make it sound innocent. “You met him Wednesday. He’s Ruby’s brother.”

  He nods. “Good enough. Why are we taking him?”

  I clamber to the far-off corners of my brain. “Well, he was standing there when I asked everyone to lunch, so I had to include him.”

  Brandon leans farther back in his chair, crosses his arms, and gives me the expression that says, How stupid do you think I am?

  “How stupid do you think I am?” he asks.

  Man, I nailed that look.

  “Is that rhetorical?”

  “I know you’re not setting Ruby up with her brother.”

  “Gee, you’re a genius.”

  He ignores me. “And you’re staying single, so the obvious choice is our lovely Miss Curtis.”

  I feign shock. “What on earth gave you that idea? Honestly! The thought of me setting Hannah Curtis up with Ruby’s brother —”

  “And paying me forty bucks to do it.” He waves the bills in my face.

  I still his hand. “The future happiness of two people is worth even more than forty dollars to me.”

  He rolls his eyes. “Bless your kind and generous nature.”

  “How’d it go with Nick?” I ask. Brandon’s meeting with Nick about the sovereignty issue was this morning.

  “Good. Great.” He lets his breath out and thumps his Bible, which is near my left shoe. “I think I understand a little more.”

  “Want to share?”

  “Later. Let me gather my thoughts first, okay?” He smiles at me and taps my knee with his pen. “Get back to work.”

  I smile at him, climb off his desk, and start to leave.

  “Hey.”

  I stop. Turn. Smile the full 120 watts.

  “Yes, Brandon dear?”

  “Don’t give me that look. Listen, I have absolutely nothing to do with this matchmaking. All right? I wash my hands.”

  “Agreed.”

  “Hey,” he says again as I turn the doorknob.

  I turn again.

  He grins boyishly. “If you bring brownies again, can you put in whatever you put in that last batch? Those were good.”

  I laugh and leave. I must be rubbing off on Brandon because that is my next plan. After lunch, Ryan will be coaxed to come for an early dinner before Bible study tomorrow night. Brownies are on the menu.

  Following will be Hannah’s conversion, his imminent proposal, and her exuberant “yes, of course!”

  I can almost hear the voice from Field of Dreams.

  “If you arrange it, wedding bells will come.”

  And by Jove, I’m going to arrange it.

  Chapter Eleven

  “Say, ‘Cupid rocks!’”

  I believe in mixing my personal and business lives.

  Four-year-old Delaney repeats me and then kicks her two-year-old brother, Davis. “You’re supposed to say it!” she lectures him.

  Davis’s eyes fill and his lower lip protrudes. “Sowwy, Duh-waney.” He blinks repeatedly and sticks his thumb in his mouth.

  “Whoa, whoa, guys.” I come to poor Davis’s rescue. “Uh, how about we don’t say anything? Smile!”

  Delaney and Davis finish a few minutes later and I watch them leave, praying blessings over the head of Davis, that he might live to age three.

  “Ready for lunch?” Hannah asks from behind me.

  I turn. “Is Ryan here yet?”

  “No, but he should be any minute.”

  Ruby steps out of Brandon’s office, followed by the manager of the studio. “So anyway, I told them to come back next week for a reshoot.”

  “Sounds fine.” Brandon pulls on a jacket.

  “Ry here yet?” Ruby asks.

  I shake my head. “Nope.”

  “Good. I’ll be right back.” She disappears into the bathroom.

  “Vizzini’s, I’m assuming,” Brandon says.

  “You assume correctly,” I tell him. “Best breadsticks this side of the country.”

  The bell jangles over the front door and I turn. “Hi, Ryan. Wait a minute —”

  Nick is before me.

  “Hi, Nick,” I revise.

  “Nick! Glad you could make it.” Brandon shakes Nick’s hand. “We’ll be heading out as soon as Ryan gets here.”

  Nick turns to greet Hannah.

  Well, well, well. Another matchmaker joined our midst.

  “Brandon, you have become what you have mocked,” I whisper.

  He sighs. “Being around you as much as I am, it was inevitable.”

  “
I know.”

  Ryan comes inside, pulling his leather coat tightly around him. “It is freezing cold out there.”

  “Hi, Ryan,” Nick says.

  “Nick, right? Good to see you again.” Ryan turns to Hannah. “Hannah, you’re going to want a heavier coat.”

  Hannah tugs on her lightweight sweater-jacket. “I’ll be okay, I think.”

  Ryan stares at her for a second before muttering something under his breath and stripping off his coat.

  “Here.” He hands it to her. “It’s beat up, but at least it’s warm.”

  “Ryan, I’m not going to take your coat.”

  “Yes, you are.”

  My elation at the exchange must show on my face because Brandon elbows me hard in the ribs.

  I yelp.

  I hate it when people look at me with that weird wrinkle right between their eyebrows. It makes me feel like I have suddenly converted into a Turkish dwarf with sideburns and an accordion.

  Ruby comes down the hall, and everyone’s attention is diverted. She has taken to spiral curling her hair in the past two days and it looks great.

  “Nick,” she says, no surprise in her voice. “Good to see you. Hey, Ry.”

  She has obviously been tipped off Nick might come. Brandon doesn’t relish moments of sheer shock like I do.

  Hannah takes Ryan’s coat.

  “I can carry five in the Tahoe,” I say. “Counting myself.”

  “Ruby and I can go in my car,” Nick says.

  Ruby blushes prettily. I nod. “Good. Let’s go.”

  Nick ends up behind me as I pull out of the parking lot. Vizzini’s is a mere six minutes away in the heaviest of traffic, and I want to give Nick and Ruby plenty of time to fall in love. So I go ten under the speed limit.

  Nick can’t pass me without making Ryan think the guy driving his sister is a speed demon. And Ryan and Hannah are too busy chatting in the backseat to notice they can see every blade of dead grass we pass.

  Brandon, however, is not.

  “Why are you driving like your father?” he asks in a low voice so as not to interrupt the conversation revolving around John Wayne and appaloosas in the back.

  I try to sound oblivious. “What do you mean?”

  “You’re driving thirty miles an hour. It’ll be time for dinner before we get there.”

  I pat his hand resting on the console. “Don’t worry, I know what I’m doing.”

  “I know, and that’s what scares me.”

  Ten minutes later, we are all safely in the restaurant.

  And who should be our waiter but JACK?

  “Hi,” he gapes when he sees who he is seating. “You’re back.”

  Surprise reigns in his voice. I nod mutely.

  “Right . . . right this way, please.”

  After JACK seats us, gives us menus, and leaves, Ruby leans forward. “Laurie, I didn’t know you had something going on with the cute waiter guy.”

  “Me neither,” Brandon says.

  “There’s nothing going on with the cute waiter guy.” I lower my voice. “He just dumped a pitcher of water in my lap last time I was here.”

  Ryan and Hannah burst out laughing. Ruby smiles, sympathetic.

  “How come these things always happen to you?” Nick asks.

  “Because she’s Laurie, Nick,” Brandon says. “Her name means ‘Bringer of Pandemonium.’”

  JACK slinks back to the table. “Have you decided?”

  Everyone orders.

  He leaves as quickly as he comes.

  Brandon watches him go. “Poor guy. I think a hefty tip is in order.”

  “Have you seen El Dorado?” Ryan asks.

  “Whoa! Halt the conversation.” Ruby raises her hand. “No John Wayne talk, please. I’m begging here.”

  “And I’m seconding the begging,” I add.

  Ryan grins at Hannah. “Guess we’ll have to talk later.”

  “Speaking of later,” I say skillfully, “I was thinking maybe we could all have an early dinner at my house tomorrow before Bible study.” Wow, that was smooth.

  “Great idea, Nutsy. I’m in,” Brandon says.

  Nick watches Ruby. With interest. A lot of it.

  “I can make it,” she says.

  “Me too,” Nick says immediately. Hannah and Ryan both nod.

  “Nutsy?” Ryan and Nick say together.

  I close my eyes. “Brandon.”

  Lunch passes with a lot of laughs. Meanwhile, The New Plan is carried out with talent and ease.

  By the time we leave a 30 percent tip for JACK, I’m convinced Ruby and Hannah will have a double wedding.

  I go home that night crafting the second phase. Attraction has been accomplished.

  Check mark for Tuesday.

  Phase Two Title: Cultivate, Consider, Commit.

  Subpoints: Ruby and Hannah will both Cultivate their ever-blossoming relationships with Nick and Ryan. Next, marriage Consideration will arise for the two pairs. And finally, we have a Commitment on both sides and a date in June.

  Which leaves me plenty of time to help plan both weddings while still accounting for my month of fishing in March.

  “Hi, Honey,” Dad says when I come in the house.

  A gorgeous fire crackles in the fireplace; Dad is settled in his chair, glasses in place and a book cradled in his hands.

  He looks peaceful.

  I love my dad.

  “Hiya, Pop.” I slouch into the love seat.

  “How was work?”

  “Niductate.”

  Niductate: (adj.) Nice, neat, and productive.

  Dad, aware of my word fetish, doesn’t do anything but smile at me.

  “How was your day?” I ask.

  “Good. I picked up some more fishing lures.”

  Lure.

  “Aha!” I yell, shattering Dad’s serenity.

  “What?” he shouts.

  “That’s what I need! A lure!”

  “Honey, I think you’re beautiful just the way you are.” Dad relaxes back in his chair. “Don’t go changing yourself to attract other people.”

  “No, not allure. A lure. Two words.”

  “Are you going to go practice fishing?”

  I grin. “I sure am.”

  I use a highlighter and underline Ephesians 1:11. “In him we were also chosen, having been predestined according to the plan of him who works out everything in conformity with the purpose of his will.”

  According to this, God’s plan and purpose cannot be thwarted, because everything conforms to His will.

  I bite my lower lip and stare at the verse for a long time before turning out the light.

  Wednesday morning I wake to my alarm at seven fifteen. I set it an hour earlier than usual so I can make my Supercalifragilisticexpialidocious Brownies.

  The sacrifices I make for the future happiness of my friends.

  Now I’m out forty bucks and a crucial hour of beauty sleep.

  I mix the concoction vowing if either party doesn’t marry, I’m going to bestow a rain of fiery chastisements on their heads.

  Brandon, Hannah, and Ruby all show up at exactly five thirty this evening. I think it is sad how Ruby has trained us to be the Punctual Picture Party.

  Brandon, in typical fashion, doesn’t ring the doorbell, doesn’t knock, just barges right in.

  I swear I am going to get a deadbolt for that door. One of these days he’s going to walk in and I’ll be in my underwear.

  Fortunately, I got dressed good and early.

  “Where’s Ryan and Nick?” I ask.

  “Nick called, he’s on his way.” Ruby hands me the salad she made.

  I smile sweetly. “He has your number?”

  She blushes. “Well . . . he . . . I . . .”

  Hannah pats her arm. “Why don’t I take your coats?”

  I’m more than curious about where she’s going to put them. This is the first time Hannah has been to my house.

  I grab her arm on her way down the hall
. “First door on the right.”

  “Thanks.”

  Nick shows up just as the threesome heads to the kitchen.

  He looks awful.

  I don’t let him inside.

  “Whoa, Nicky.” I shove him back onto the porch and close the door behind me. “What the heck happened to you?”

  His hair, normally smoothed down with gel, curls Shirley Temple– like all over his head. Which, by itself, is pretty cute. But his eyes . . .

  Blegh.

  “Laurie.” He swallows.

  “Did someone die? Were you in a wreck? What happened?” I push him down on the bench.

  He cradles his head in his hands. “Laurie, Laurie, Laurie. I can’t do this.”

  Confusion is setting in. “What? Dinner?”

  “No.” He looks up, eyes tortured. “Ruby.”

  I stare at him. “What are you talking about?”

  “She’s beautiful.”

  “Okay. With you so far.”

  “She’s so sweet and charming and godly.” He shakes his head, looking off in the distance. “She even cooks!”

  I’m totally lost. “Nick, I’m not seeing the problem.”

  “Laurie, look at me!”

  It is my firm belief in Pit-of-Despair times like these that honesty is always the best policy.

  “You look awful.”

  His shoulders sag farther. A feat I thought impossible. “Thanks.”

  “Listen, you can borrow my comb and some spray gel.”

  “She’s amazing, Laurie.”

  I blink. “Who is?”

  “Ruby!”

  “So why are you so upset?” I ask. My temper is beginning to play hide-and-seek, and at the moment, it is lost. My voice has more than a little bite to it. It is cold, I’m wearing a lightweight long-sleeved T-shirt and no shoes, and I know I’m getting frostbite on my nose.

  Nick stares at me bleakly. “I think . . . I think I . . .”

  Suddenly, frostbite or not, I want desperately to hear what he has to say.

  “Go on,” I urge.

  “Oh, Laurie,” he whispers. “I think I’ve fallen —”

  “Hey, guys.”

  ARRG!

  It is all I can do to not clobber Ryan over the head with a wicker chair and stuff his body under the porch so Nick can finish.

  Nick sobers immediately. “Hi, Ryan.” His voice is normal, eyes start to clear. He rubs his hands over his face, blinks a few times.