“Sure it does,” he asserted. “Or it should, anyway. After all, you are my girlfriend.”
“In name only,” she reminded him.
“I beg to differ,” he said placidly. “In name only would mean our relationship is purely platonic. Kissing each other changed that.”
“It didn’t change anything,” Sierra said. “In name only means no emotional involvement. It means you can kiss someone for no better reason than you feel like it.”
“Hmm.” A thoughtful air filled the line and she had the feeling that instead of blowing off her words, he was carefully considering them. “Makes sense.”
Sierra hadn’t expected him to agree. And she wasn’t sure why it bothered her to have him concede the point. “I need to go.”
“Why?” he asked, clearly startled by her abruptness.
“I’ll talk to you tomorrow,” she said. “Good night, Matt.”
“Wait,” he said quickly. “Before you hang up I have something to ask you.”
“Make it quick.”
“James Hanna, the main architect for the Advocacy Center, is having a party at his house on Friday night. It would be a good idea if we went together.”
“Absolutely not,” The words popped out of her mouth the same instant they entered her head
“Tell me what you really think.” Laughter filled the other end of the line.
While Sierra conceded her response had been a bit rude, it was honest. Not because she didn’t like him but because a party typically meant lots of people. Lots of people meant someone could be attending who knew Libby. Someone who knew Sierra wasn’t Elizabeth Carlyle.
“Saturday just isn’t good for me,” she said.
“Even on the phone you’re cute when you lie.” He laughed again. “The party’s on Friday.”
“Oh.” Sierra paused, sure he’d said Saturday. But she wasn’t about to argue. She didn’t plan to attend the party whether it was on Friday or Saturday. “I don’t think it’s a good idea to mix business and pleasure.”
“I agree,” he said without missing a beat. “This party is strictly business.”
“I don’t believe you,” she said.
“Scout’s honor.”
She could almost see him holding up three fingers in the Scout salute and she had to shake her head at the depths to which the man would go to get his way.
“Now who’s lying to who?” Sierra couldn’t resist teasing him. “We both know you were never a Boy Scout.”
“I had friends who were Scouts,” Matt said. “That should count for something.”
“It doesn’t count,” Sierra said.
“I wanted to join but my father didn’t have time to take me to the meetings,” Matt said. “Surely that counts.”
“It’s definitely a stretch,” Sierra said, playing along. “What about your mother? Why couldn’t she take you?”
“She left when I was ten,” he said and for a second Sierra swore his voice hitched. But a chuckle dispelled that notion. “And Dad had better things to do than shuttle me around to campfires.”
“It’s hard for one parent to do it all,” Sierra said softly. That’s why, way back when, she’d sworn to herself that her children would grow up with both a mom and a dad.
She sighed. “I know. I grew up without a father.”
“I remember my dad talking about that divorce,” Matt said. “Sounded like it was an ugly one.”
For a second, Sierra couldn’t figure out what he was talking about. Her father had died in an auto accident. Then it came to her in a rush that he was talking about Libby’s life, not hers.
Libby’s mother had found her husband in a compromising position with her best friend and promptly filed for divorce. Though Stella never seemed to mind, the publicity had been hard on Libby.
“Some men aren’t meant to be parents,” was all Sierra could think to say.
“And some women aren’t, either,” Matt added. “Now about the party—I’ll pick you up at eight.”
Although the event did sound like fun, especially with Matt on her arm, Sierra refused to abandon common sense and succumb to masculine charm. “I’m sorry—”
“Your mother is the principal backer of the Advocacy Center,” Matt interrupted her, an extra measure of persuasiveness now in his tone. “But it’s an expensive project. The more money that can be raised the better.”
“What does any of that have to do with the party?”
“It’s not just a party,” Matt said. “It’s a fundraiser for the Advocacy Center. There’ll be a silent auction. Many of the Center’s proponents will be there hoping to convince some well-known Santa Barbara philanthropists to ante up.”
Sierra drew her eyebrows together. “I thought Stella, um, my mother was putting up the money?”
“She’s financing the start-up costs,” Matt said. “But ongoing support will still be needed if the Center is going to remain viable five and ten years down the road.”
Normally Sierra would jump at the chance to solicit funds for such a worthy project. But what if there was someone Libby knew in attendance? Granted, Libby had never been one to indulge in the Santa Barbara social scene and Stella Carlyle had never considered herself part of the community….
“Could you get me a guest list?” Sierra asked impulsively, wondering why she just didn’t say no.
“Why?”
“I’d like to see if they’ve left anyone off that should be invited,” she said, quickly improvising.
“Will you go if I get you the list?” Matt asked immediately.
“If you get me the list, I’ll be very grateful,” Sierra answered, sidestepping the question.
“Consider it done,” he said. “I’ll get it from Jim in the morning then I’ll stop by the shop and drop it off.”
“Perfect.” Sierra would connect with Libby tomorrow and show her the names. And, regardless of what she’d insinuated to Matt, her attendance at the party would depend entirely on Libby’s response. “I’ll be in about eleven.”
“I’ll see you then,” he said. “And, Sierra?”
Her gaze drifted to the clock and she widened her eyes. How in the world was she ever going to get up and have Maddie to play group on time? “Yes, Matt?”
“Most women find me irresistible in a tux,” he said in a confident tone. “So Friday night…”
“Yes?” she said a trifle impatiently.
“I have two words for you.”
She heaved a frustrated sigh. “And what two words would that be?”
“Be prepared.”
Matt straightened the jacket of his tux and stole a quick glance at his watch before returning his gaze to the voluptuous brunette. She’d been chattering nonstop since she’d cornered him a few minutes ago, but at the moment he couldn’t recall a single word she’d said.
James Hanna’s large house with windows overlooking the Pacific was a perfect setting for the party. Music from a small chamber orchestra provided a pleasant backdrop to the guests’ chatter and the sweet scent of the exotic flowers brought in just for the occasion, filled the air. The buffet tables brimmed with trays of delicious hors d’oeuvres and the wine that filled the glass in his hand was top-notch.
For the past hour, Matt had mingled, always keeping one eye on the door. He told himself that he was just interested in the attendees, but the truth was he was looking for the pretty blonde who’d assured him she would meet him by the front door promptly at eight. It was now almost nine and Sierra was nowhere in sight.
He blew out a frustrated breath wishing he’d insisted on picking her up. But when he’d suggested it, she’d balked. At the time he’d been so glad she’d agreed to go with him that he’d simply said okay. Now he had to wonder if even back then she’d planned to stand him up.
“Why did I even go to all the work of getting that guest list if she wasn’t going to show?” Matt muttered, feeling his anger mount with each passing second.
“Pardon me?”
&nbs
p; Matt blinked, only then realizing that Missy or Mindy, or whatever her name was, still stood before him.
“Did you say something?” she asked in a deliberately husky voice designed to stir a man’s senses.
Though she was an attractive woman and he’d once favored brunettes, her beauty left his senses untouched. The only thing he could figure was that his tastes were changing.
He almost blew her off, but good manners won out and he offered a conciliatory smile. “I was just commenting on your story.”
Actually he hadn’t been listening at all. He’d heard the first part—something about a recent trip to Greece—and had immediately tuned her out.
“Silly me,” she said, gazing up at him through lowered lashes. “I thought you invited me to a show.”
Matt groaned. Of all the women in the room, why did she have to be James Hanna’s niece? James was a big deal in Santa Barbara and he’d talked about using Dixon and Associates for his firm’s legal work.
Still, the last thing Matt wanted was to take Mitzi on a date. Thankfully, he had a ready excuse.
“You must have misunderstood,” he offered her a mollifying smile. “Not that I don’t find you attractive but I’m seeing someone.”
For a second the woman’s face fell, but it only took a second for her to regain her composure. She glanced around the room. “Is your girlfriend here?”
“Not yet,” Matt said, resisting the urge to look at his watch again. “But I’m expecting her any minute.”
“If you were mine, I wouldn’t let you out of my sight for even one second.” She took a step closer and the overpowering scent of her expensive perfume wafted over him. “Temptation is everywhere.”
Her hand moved to his arm and she gazed up at him questioningly.
Matt realized ruefully that temptation wasn’t just everywhere, it was right in front of him dressed in a low-cut black gown. She was an attractive package, he’d give her that, but the trouble was, she wasn’t the woman he wanted tonight.
He mouthed some vague excuse about seeing someone he knew and made a hasty retreat, his gaze still firmly fixed on the door.
By ten o’clock, he’d given up hope and his anger soared. He was almost tempted to look up Mitzi and take her up on her offer. But even as the thought entered his mind, Matt rejected it. He’d never used a woman like that before and he wasn’t going to start now.
By eleven o’clock, worry replaced anger. Sierra had promised she’d attend and though he didn’t know her well, she seemed the reliable sort.
He’d tried to call her home phone several times but all he’d gotten was the recorder. Crazy thoughts ran through his head. What if she were sick? What if she’d been in an accident?
If he knew where she lived he’d drive over there and make sure she was all right. Unfortunately, he didn’t have her home address and she’d told him once she wasn’t in the phone book.
He thought for a moment. His father would know her address. After all, Sierra lived in her mother’s old house and his dad had been there many times. Matt moved to the outside deck and hit speed dial.
It rang several times before his father answered. “Hello, Matt.”
By the sounds of the laughter and clinking glasses in the background, Matt concluded his father was out “being seen.” When Dix had been told by his doctor to cut back his workload, his father had decided to use his recuperation time to full advantage and increase his visibility at prominent social events.
It had been a smart move, and had already generated an impressive amount of new clients and an even more impressive revenue spike.
“I need a favor,” Matt said. “Do you have Stella Carlyle’s home address?”
“She lives just outside of Paris,” his father said. “But I don’t have the address with me and I’m in the middle of something right now—”
“Actually, it’s her address in Santa Barbara that I need,” Matt said quickly, not giving his father a chance to finish or to hang up. “Her daughter and I were supposed to meet at a party tonight and we must have got our wires crossed. I just wanted to stop by her place and make sure she’s okay.”
“Stella’s daughter?” A spark of interest sounded in his father’s voice. “Are you and Elizabeth Carlyle involved?”
The blatant approval in his father’s voice took Matt by surprise.
“Involved might be too strong a word,” Matt hedged.
His father no longer seemed in such a hurry to get off the phone. “Is she as pretty as her mother?”
“She’s blond.” Matt hoped Sierra wasn’t lying on her floor in need of medical attention while he was wasting time exchanging inane comments with his father. Still, past experience had taught him, it did no good to rush his dad.
“Ditzy?”
“No, she’s not. And that’s why I’m concerned. It’s not like her not to show.” Matt heaved an exasperated sigh. “Do you have the address or not?”
“Let me think.” Silence filled the phone lines for several long heartbeats. “I don’t have the address but I can give you directions. The house is an old Victorian just off Santa Barbara Street on Arrellaga. Tall hedges all around. You can’t miss it.”
Matt pictured the area in his mind. Arrellaga was close to downtown. He calculated the time it would take to get there. Not long, if he caught the lights and drove over the speed-limit.
“Thanks,” Matt said. “I appreciate the help.”
“Just one question,” Dix interjected, before Matt could click off. “Do you like the girl?”
Matt thought for a moment. “At this moment I’d like to throttle her. Does that count?”
His father’s robust laugh resounded over the phone lines. “Tells me all I need to know.”
The dial tone sounded and Matt swore softly. He was glad someone found this whole situation amusing because he didn’t.
Not for one minute.
Chapter Ten
Sierra popped a leftover chocolate petit four into her mouth and sighed. Her mother really did fabulous things with pastries.
Grabbing a dishrag, Sierra moved to the refrigerator surface for a final touch-up. She glanced up at the clock on Libby’s kitchen wall.
Almost midnight. If she were Cinderella, she’d be just about to turn back into a scullery maid.
Glancing down at her faded blue jeans and well-washed UC Santa Barbara Gauchos T-shirt, Sierra smiled ruefully. Tonight she didn’t need to change back because she’d never gotten to be a princess. Despite her best intentions and a new dress, she’d ending up chucking her plans and staying home to help her mother.
If only I hadn’t stopped by Libby’s house…
After dropping Maddie off for an overnight play date with a friend, Sierra had swung by Libby’s to borrow some shoes. Instead of some sleek black pumps, she’d found her mother and Libby in the kitchen frantically trying to fill a last-minute order.
In addition to being Libby’s housekeeper, Peggy Summers also ran her own up-and-coming catering service. Business had really taken off right before last Christmas and the hectic pace had continued into the summer. Usually Sierra worked side by side with her mother but since she and Libby had switched places, assisting with the catering had become Libby’s responsibility. Unfortunately this last-minute crisis demanded far more than just two sets of hands.
Apparently the original caterer had backed out at the last minute, leaving the hostess in the lurch. The frantic woman had offered Peggy twice the going rate if she could step in. Though Libby let Peggy use her kitchen any time she needed it, Sierra’s mother had been hoping to save enough money to one day have her own catering facility. The income from this job would go a long way toward helping Peggy achieve that goal.
That’s why Sierra had pulled on an apron and pitched in without even being asked. By eleven, they were in good shape for the next day’s event.
Libby had been exhausted and Sierra had sent her to bed, saying one person could easily do the rest of the clean-up. Her mo
ther, who’d have to be up at dawn tomorrow, had offered to stay but Sierra had sent her home, too.
Sierra didn’t mind the job or working alone. She’d always enjoyed taking something messy and making it shiny and new again. In fact, she’d probably had more fun spending the evening in the kitchen than she’d have had at the party, even with a handsome man at her side.
She stilled and the dishrag in her hand paused on the chrome finish of the refrigerator door.
I never called Matt.
Guilt swept over her. She’d promised she’d be at the front door of James Hanna’s house at eight. But she’d gotten so involved in helping her mother, she’d completely forgotten about the party. Her gaze slid to the clock.
It was too late to call now.
Too late to apologize.
Too late to find out firsthand what he’d meant by “be prepared.”
For a second she let herself imagine a different kind of evening. Instead of being elbow deep in flour, she’d have been in Matt’s arms. They would have laughed and danced and talked. He would have plied her with outrageous compliments that she wouldn’t have believed for a minute but that still would have made her feel all warm and gooey inside.
She’d have talked to people about the Center and they’d all have been enthusiastic and ready to open their wallets. The evening would have been a roaring success. Afterward Matt would have walked her to her car and kissed her until her head whirled. Then, like Cinderella, the clock would have struck twelve and she’d have gone home.
The thought brought her back to the present with a start and she snorted back a laugh. Matt Dixon was no Prince Charming. And, she was certainly no Cinderella.
Sierra finished wiping the refrigerator, gave the countertops another once-over and smiled in satisfaction. Seeing it now, you could never tell all the work that had gone on here this evening. Except…
Her gaze critically scanned the small kitchen rug at the base of the sink. It might be only her imagination but it looked like the tiny oval could benefit from a good shaking.
Love Enough For Two (Love Inspired) Page 8
