Undercover Bachelor (Undercover Matchmakers Book 1)

by Maria Geraci

  “I believe it’s every citizen’s responsibility to learn CPR,” said Walter. “You never know when you might be called upon to save a life. I thought about going to medical school. In the end, of course, I chose the law, but sometimes I do wonder.”

  “You would have made a wonderful doctor,” Connie gushed.

  “I like to think so.” If Walter was a peacock, he’d be strutting his feathers about now.

  Annie caught Sophie’s amused gaze. “So you and Walter are still doing the regular Tuesday night dinner thing, huh?”

  “Yep.” For now.

  “The girls and I are still doing drinks every Thursday. You should join us sometime.” The “girls” consisted of Sophie, her best friend, Zoe Parrish (who was also Millie’s niece), Reggie Cooper, and Coco Phillips. The four of them had been best friends since grade school and were a couple of years older than Annie. Sophie had invited her to join them before, but Annie had always found a reason not to go, usually having to do with either work or Walter.

  “You still meeting over at Bootleg Pete’s?” asked Annie.

  “Eight p.m. every Thursday night. Don’t be late, or you won’t get any nachos,” Sophie teased. She put her stethoscope back in her bag, then turned to look at Sam. “Do I know you?” But before he could answer, she shook her head and laughed. “Never mind. I’m pretty sure if we’d ever met, I would have remembered.” She handed him a card. “In case you need any follow-up, here’s the number for our clinic. Just ask for Sophie Esposito. I’m the nurse practitioner.”

  “Thanks.” He pocketed the card.

  Sophie wasn’t flirting with Sam. And he wasn’t flirting with her. It was more like two good-looking people with a mutual awareness of one another. But something about it made Annie stiffen. Oddly, she realized, she was more jealous of this brief exchange than the outright flirting going on between Connie and Walter.

  Now that the “emergency” was over, it was time to get to the bottom of this.

  “So, who’s Roy?” Annie asked.

  Connie pointed to Sam. “This guy right here.”

  “Your name is Roy?” Why on earth would Connie think that Sam DeLuca was named Roy?

  Sam shrugged. “That’s me.”

  “Roy what?” Annie demanded.

  “Roy Rogers.” There was no mistaking the humor in his green eyes. Roy Rogers, her ass. Annie tried not to laugh.

  “Like the cowboy, right?” said Walter. “Your mom must have some sense of humor.”

  “You ready for dessert?” Connie asked them.

  Walter glanced at his watch. “No time. I need to head back to the office. This whole 911 thing has really put me off my schedule.”

  Annie had spent all day building up the courage to break up with Walter. She couldn’t go through another twenty-four hours with her stomach twisted up in knots. She needed to make a clean break now. “But Walter, we need to talk.”

  “Sorry, babe. I’ve got to put in at least three more hours tonight. I’m a partner now, remember?” He grabbed his coat jacket from their booth and pulled out his wallet. “Connie, can I get the bill?”

  “No need for that,” said Sam. “Your dinner is on me.”

  Annie spoke up. “Oh, but we couldn’t—”

  “It’s the least I can do. Considering how your boyfriend practically saved my life.”

  Right.

  Walter put away his wallet. “That’s awful nice of you. Thanks, Roy.” He gave Annie a dismissive peck on the cheek. “I’ll call you tomorrow.”

  Annie waited until Walter left the café to turn to confront “Roy,” but before she could ask Sam DeLuca what he was doing in Old Explorer’s Bay, he pointed toward his booth. “Care to join for me for dessert?”

  “Don’t mind if I do.” She slid into the booth to sit across from him.

  “Should I bring your fish over here?” asked Connie. “You’ve hardly touched it.”

  She winced. “Um, could you ditch it and bring me the meat loaf instead?”

  “Sure thing,” said Connie.

  “So,” she began once Connie had left them alone to get her food. “Roy Rogers, huh?”

  “What can I say? I’m a Bruce Willis fan.”

  “Die Hard.”

  “I love that movie,” they said in unison, causing them both to laugh.

  “Why the fake name? Because you’re clearly not Roy Rogers, and we both know it.”

  Sam leaned into the table and lowered his voice. “I’d appreciate it if you keep that to yourself. Connie recognized me the minute I walked in the door. As for the fake name, let’s just say being Sam DeLuca hasn’t been easy this past week.”

  Annie could only imagine. Between the show, Twitter crashing, and his stint on the talk-show circuit, you couldn’t go online without seeing his face or reading an article about what was next for America’s most eligible bachelor.

  “Nice to meet you, Sam.” She extended her hand. “I’m Annie Esposito, by the way.”

  Sam shook her hand, sending a bolt of heat up her arm, straight down to her toes. Yowza. So this was instant attraction. She’d never felt it before this strongly. Not with Russell. And certainly not with Walter.

  “I figured that out,” he said.

  “Figured what out?”

  “That you were Annie.”

  “That I was …” She shook her head. “What are you doing here in Old Explorer’s Bay?”

  “I have a couple of reasons. The main one is to get away from the press.”

  “So you’re like undercover?”

  “You could say that.”

  “That’s very James Bondish of you. What’s the other reason?”

  “You.”

  “Me?” This was the second time he’d alluded to knowing her. “Sorry, but I’m confused. I saw you on TV at my mom’s house. That’s how I know who you are, but we just met fifteen minutes ago, so how on earth could you have come to town to see me?”

  For one sickening moment, she thought back to the letter she’d written him. Thank God she’d never sent it. Not that she’d ever considered sending it even for a moment, but now she was doubly grateful that she’d thrown it in the trash. That letter was filled with her most vulnerable thoughts. To think if he’d read it, then to have to face him … Her face went hot just thinking about it.

  Sam sat back in his seat and looked her. “If that’s how you want to play it, okay. I get it.”

  If that’s how she wanted to play it?

  Before she could ask him to clarify what he meant, Connie brought her a heaping serving of the meat loaf special. “Thanks,” she said. “And Connie? Don’t ever let me order the fish again on a Tuesday night. No matter what I say.”

  Connie gave her a thumbs-up.

  “Got your appetite back?” Sam asked as he watched her dig into the meat loaf.

  “I was too nervous to eat before.”

  “Oh yeah? Nervous about what?” There was a knowing look in his gaze that made her feel twitchy. Nothing about this scenario made sense, and it wasn’t merely the fact that she was now sitting face-to-face with a man she never dreamed she’d actually meet in person, let alone have a deep conversation with. She chewed slowly, considering how much she should share with him. Would Sam DeLuca be as easy to talk to in person as he’d been in that letter?

  “I was going to break up with my boyfriend when you started choking. Or rather, when Connie and Walter thought you were choking. I was waiting for him to finish his dinner.” Before he could say anything, she added, “I know. I’m horrible at breaking up with people.”

  “You have much experience with that?”

  “None. Breaking up with Walter after dinner and before dessert was Bridget’s idea. That’s my dad’s personal assistant at work, but she’s more like the office know-it-all. She gave me some pointers.”

  “Sounds like my personal assistant Stella. She worked for my father before me.” For an instant, he got the same look on his face that he’d gotten on the show when he’d
talked to Hannah about his father.

  “If you don’t mind me asking, how did he die?”

  “Lung cancer,” he said flatly.

  “I’m sorry. It must have been hard when Hannah brought that up on live TV.”

  He brushed it off with a shrug.

  “Can I ask you something? What on earth made you go on Single Gal? I mean, c’mon, look at you. If you need help getting a date, then the world as we know it is in serious trouble. Unless you’re some kind of whack job, but I’m pretty good at reading people, and you seem fairly normal. You like Die Hard. Plus, you’re a rich oil tycoon, so you’ve got that going for you too.”

  “I was outmaneuvered by my sister.” He told her all about his sister Becks and how he’d made a deal with her. If she applied to colleges, then he’d apply to go on the show.

  “She’s sneaky and smart. I like her.”

  “She likes you too.”

  There he went again. Saying things that made no sense. “Your sister has never met me. How on earth could she like me?”

  He hesitated. “What I meant to say was that if she ever met you, she’d like you.” Annie was certain that it wasn’t what he’d meant to say, but she let it slide. Tonight was strange enough already.

  “You already know what I do, so tell me about your job,” he urged.

  “I work for the family business.”

  “Another thing we have in common.”

  “Only we’re not a family of oil billionaires. We sell used cars.”

  “Don’t sell yourself short. It’s a pretty big dealership. And you’re the CFO.”

  She stilled. “How do you know that? Have you been to the dealership?”

  “I, uh, drove by it on my way to the hotel. I’m interested in getting a car. For my sister. The clerk at the hotel gave me your card and told me all about you and your brother taking over the business from your father.”

  Annie relaxed. “That sounds about right. Everyone in this town knows everything about everyone else, and they love to tell anyone who’ll listen. Speaking of hotels, please tell me you’re staying at The Conquistador Inn and not the other one.”

  “I am.”

  “I didn’t know there was a route there from the interstate that took you by our dealership.”

  “I must have gotten lost.”

  She nodded, but it seemed unlikely this man couldn’t follow a simple GPS route. Maybe it was his one fatal flaw. After all, he couldn’t be rich, handsome, have a good sense of humor and follow directions, right? That would be asking too much.

  “What’s so funny?”

  “Nothing,” she said, still grinning.

  He looked at her for what felt like the longest few seconds of her life, then cleared his throat. “Is working for the family business your dream job?”

  “Not even close,” she said before thinking, then flushed. “I didn’t mean that the way it sounded.”

  “Yeah, you did.”

  What was it about this guy? On TV, in person, it was like he could see right through her.

  “I used to work for a big Fortune 500 company in their finance department. I loved it,” she admitted. “Even the long hours. It was exciting. You must know what I mean. The adrenaline surge when all your numbers come out right and you realize your profit margin is exactly where you want it to be.”

  “That’s what you call exciting?”

  “Don’t you? You work for a huge oil company. You’re the CEO.”

  “Yeah, but I’d rather be wrestling cattle.” He frowned, like he hadn’t expected to say that. It made sense, though. This feeling of restlessness she’d picked up from him even through a flat screen.

  “You want to be a rancher?”

  “I am a rancher. At least, on the weekends.”

  “But you want to do it full time.”

  “That’s impossible. I have responsibilities.”

  “Does this ranch have a name? Please tell me it does. Hold on. Let me guess. The Dusty DeLuca?”

  He looked like he’d just sucked on a lemon. “That’s a terrible name. It’s the Pitchfork Pines. Named by my great grandmother Ruth.” His voice somehow got deeper, twangier, as he proceeded to tell her all about the ranch he and his mother and sister lived on and the nearby town of Baylee Flats.

  “It sounds terrific.”

  “It’s two hundred and fifty thousand acres of heaven,” he said.

  “Wow. That’s like huge.”

  “Not by Texas standards.”

  She snickered. “Because everything’s bigger in Texas?”

  “You got that right, little lady,” he drawled, doing a terrible John Wayne imitation that made her smile anyway.

  “You should do it. You should quit your job and run the ranch full time.”

  “It’s not that simple.”

  “Sure it is. You can hire someone to take over as CEO of the oil company, right? Or promote from within? Life is too short to go through it unhappy. Especially if you have the means to fix it.” She put her elbows on the table and leaned in closer. “You know who made me see that? You did. You’re the reason I’m breaking up with Walter.”

  He jerked back.

  Annie rolled her eyes. “Not you, you. I mean, yeah, you’re like every girl’s dream guy right now, but it was what you said on that morning show that got me thinking. I deserve to feel the zing. And so does Walter. He deserves someone who loves him with all his heart. But that person isn’t me.”

  Before he could respond, Connie came by their booth. “Sorry to kick you kids out, but I’d like to go home.”

  “What?” they said, once again in unison.

  “We closed twenty minutes ago.”

  They glanced around the diner. The lights were dimmed, and they were the only customers left. “Sorry about that,” said Sam.

  “No worries. You two seemed to be hitting it off so well, I hated to interrupt.”

  Sam paid the check and walked Annie outside to her car.

  “This is me,” she said, pointing to her Subaru.

  “I guess this is good night then.” He almost sounded disappointed, like he wanted the night to go on.

  For one crazy second, Annie thought about inviting him to get a drink somewhere. But … no. That would be too presumptuous of her. “It was great meeting you. You’re my first famous person.”

  “I’m not famous,” he insisted.

  “Says you. Let me give you a tip. Don’t buy any flowers while you’re in town unless you’re into mother-daughter threesomes.”

  He shut his eyes briefly. “I don’t want to know what that means.”

  She laughed, then pulled the keys from her purse and opened the car door. “So long, Sam. Good luck.” As she pulled out, she glanced up in the rearview mirror to see him standing on the sidewalk with his hands in his pants pockets, still watching her.

  Tonight had been by far the strangest night of her life. Who would have thought that she’d run into Sam DeLuca (of all people!) at The Miramar Café? Call it fate. Call it karma. Call it a stroke of unbelievable good luck, but somehow, the universe had seen fit to bring Sam into her life, even if it was just for a couple of hours. If Annie had harbored the tiniest doubt in her mind about breaking up with Walter, it was gone. She knew what she had to do. She just had to find the right way to do it.

  10

  “How was the bed?” Rudy watched with a keen eye from behind the registration counter as Sam poured himself a cup of the hotel’s complimentary java.

  “It was okay, thanks.” What wasn’t okay was this weak-ass coffee. Maybe he should go back to The Miramar Café for breakfast. If their pancakes were half as good as their meat loaf, it was worth making a trip there before heading over to see Annie this morning.

  Annie. He’d gone to bed last night thinking about her.

  You should do it. You should quit your job and run the ranch full time.

  Sure. Easy for her to say. Cyrus Byrd would roll over in his grave if he knew his grandson wanted to wa
lk away from the company he’d worked so hard to build.

  He thought about all the other things they’d talked about too. Shouldn’t she have mentioned the letter? It was like she’d never sent it. Could he have the wrong Annie? No. There could only be one Annie Esposito in this town. Plus, it had her voice all over it. Maybe she was embarrassed about the things she’d written. That must be it.

  He needed to clear things up between them. He would head over to the car dealership this morning and tell her the whole truth behind his coming to Old Explorer’s Bay. Then his conscience would stop niggling at him, and in a few weeks when the show was over, he could get back to his regularly scheduled life.

  “Going fishing this morning?” asked Rudy, cutting into his thoughts.

  “Maybe,” Sam said noncommittally. “Probably not today.”

  “Yep. It’s too late to book a boat for today. You could book for tomorrow though.”

  Sam’s cell phone went off, saving him from having to make more small talk with the clerk. It was Becks. Perfect timing. He stepped outside to the parking lot and took the call. “When does the orientation start?”

  “Fifteen minutes. Did you meet Annie?”

  “As a matter of fact, I did. And Walter too.”

  “Oh. So I guess you couldn’t talk to her alone then, huh?” He didn’t bother to correct her. “What did you think? Did you feel the zing?”

  “You’ve been watching too much reality TV.”

  “Hey, zing is your word, not mine.”

  “Don’t remind me. That’s what got me into this mess.”

  “Someone’s grumpy this morning.”

  Grumpy? He wasn’t grumpy. What he was, was caffeine deprived. And yeah, okay, maybe last night’s conversation had unsettled him. He’d thought about quitting the business to run the ranch a million times. But he’d never said it out loud. That was one idea that didn’t mesh with reality. He had responsibilities, and he couldn’t just walk away from them.

  “Is she pretty?” Becks asked.

  “Is who pretty?” Sam asked, being deliberately obtuse.