Books by Fern Michaels:
Perfect Match
A Family Affair
Forget Me Not
The Blossom Sisters
Balancing Act
Tuesday’s Child
Betrayal
Southern Comfort
To Taste the Wine
Sins of the Flesh
Sins of Omission
Return to Sender
Mr. and Miss Anonymous
Up Close and Personal
Fool Me Once
Picture Perfect
About Face
The Future Scrolls
Kentucky Sunrise
Kentucky Heat
Kentucky Rich
Plain Jane
Charming Lily
What You Wish For
The Guest List
Listen to Your Heart
Celebration
Yesterday
Finders Keepers
Annie’s Rainbow
Sara’s Song
Vegas Sunrise
Vegas Heat
Vegas Rich
Whitefire
Wish List
Dear Emily
Christmas at Timberwoods
The Sisterhood Novels:
Eyes Only
Kiss and Tell
Blindsided
Gotcha!
Home Free
Déjà Vu
Cross Roads
Game Over
Deadly Deals
Vanishing Act
Razor Sharp
Under the Radar
Final Justice
Collateral Damage
Fast Track
Hokus Pokus
Hide and Seek
Free Fall
Lethal Justice
Sweet Revenge
The Jury
Vendetta
Payback
Weekend Warriors
The Godmothers Series:
Classified
Breaking News
Deadline
Late Edition
Exclusive
The Scoop
E-Book Exclusives:
Desperate Measures
Seasons of Her Life
To Have and to Hold
Take Down
Countdown
Upside Down
Serendipity
Captive Innocence
Captive Embraces
Captive Passions
Captive Secrets
Captive Splendors
Cinders to Satin
For All Their Lives
Fancy Dancer
Texas Heat
Texas Rich
Texas Fury
Texas Sunrise
Anthologies:
When the Snow Falls
Secret Santa
A Winter Wonderland
I’ll Be Home for Christmas
Making Spirits Bright
Holiday Magic
Snow Angels
Silver Bells
Comfort and Joy
Sugar and Spice
Let It Snow
A Gift of Joy
Five Golden Rings
Deck the Halls
Jingle All the Way
FERN MICHAELS
Perfect Match
KENSINGTON PUBLISHING CORP.
http://www.kensingtonbooks.com
All copyrighted material within is Attributor Protected.
Table of Contents
Also by
Title Page
Dedication
Prologue
Chapter One
Chapter Two
Chapter Three
Chapter Four
Chapter Five
Chapter Six
Chapter Seven
Chapter Eight
Chapter Nine
Chapter Ten
Chapter Eleven
Chapter Twelve
Chapter Thirteen
Chapter Fourteen
Chapter Fifteen
Chapter Sixteen
Chapter Seventeen
Chapter Eighteen
Chapter Nineteen
Chapter Twenty
Chapter Twenty-one
Chapter Twenty-two
Chapter Twenty-three
Chapter Twenty-four
Epilogue
Maureen’s Rich Bourbon Pecan Pie
Copyright Page
I’d like to dedicate this book to Corinda Carfora, the composer of “What Was I Thinking,” and to Henry Neunsinger, who really is the best hairstylist in the world as well as the best interior decorator. And to BFFs Terry Egger, Wayne Arnold, and Steve Wise. You’re the best. Thank you all for being in my life and making it so enjoyable.
Fern
Prologue
Beth Masters stood in her kitchen, staring out at her backyard, which was alive with flowers every color of the rainbow as well as beautiful fall foliage. Autumn had always been her favorite time of year.
She felt sad that she was going to be leaving her perfect little house on a tree-lined street in Garden Grove, a house that had been her home for the past five years, ever since the day she’d graduated from Clemson University, actually. The house was a gift from her brother, older by two years, for her outstanding academic achievement during her four-year stint at college.
Her beloved older brother, Jake Masters, had been an NFL superstar. But not now. These days, Jake Masters was in a wheelchair thanks to an injury sustained during the fourth quarter of the Super Bowl, three years ago.
Beth, known as Beezer to her older brother, was even sadder that she would be leaving Jake. Not that Jake needed her—he didn’t. And that was part of the problem. He had his longtime trainer, Moose, to see to his every need. Maybe that was what was bothering her. Jake didn’t need her; that was the bottom line. He’d done so much for her over the years, and just when she needed . . . no, wanted to try to pay him back, he closed up shop and pretty much told her to stay out of his crippled life. The really awful part of all that was she’d actually listened to him and stayed away.
Beth swiped at the tears that were puddling in her eyes. She should have told Jake months ago that she was leaving. If not in person, then either by e-mail or a letter. She’d kept putting it off, and now she was out of time.
Beth walked around, looking at everything in her house. Her life, all thanks to Jake. She picked up a sorry-looking piece of pottery in her family room. Jake had backed her when she thought she would be the world’s next stellar potter. It hadn’t happened. Money, Jake’s money, down the drain. She moved on and picked up a beer stein. That hadn’t exactly worked out either. The world wasn’t ready for a female brew-meister. More of Jake’s money down the drain.
And on and on it went, the evidence of all of her failures, all of Jake’s wasted money as she made her last, lonely walk through the house, which brought her to the foyer and the front door. But today she had a check for Jake, for all his wasted dollars.
Beth started to cry again when she thought about how successful she was now, and she’d done it on her own, with just her computer and a lot of guts. No real money invested, either. She’d done it as a lark, but before she knew what was happening, she was making so much money she couldn’t count it fast enough. So many times she’d wanted to share it all with Jake, but he always sloughed her off because he had his own pity party going on.
The greatest NFL player of all time wouldn’t be blowing her off today. Not today. In just a little while, she was going to drive the ten miles to where Jake lived in a fortress of his own making, or, as she thought of it, where he hid out from the world, and that included her. Not today, buddy. More tears leaked out of her eyes.
Beth looked at her watch. A frown started to build on her f
ace just as she heard the key in the lock. Okaaayyy. She ran to the door and fell into Gracie Sweet’s arms. Gracie was her best friend in the whole world and her business partner. Gracie was so smart, it was sinful. Unlike Beth, who was dumb as dirt according to Jake Masters.
And yet here she was, a multimillionaire, as was Gracie. And they’d done it on their own, with no help from anyone.
Gracie Sweet was a ball of fire. She had a Shirley Temple mop of russet-colored curls and a face full of freckles. She had a reckless smile that showed off teeth that were more beautiful than rare pearls. She had summer blue eyes that Beth swore could see into a person’s soul. She was tall, and not exactly lanky but close to it. And yet she looked good in anything she wore, which was mostly jeans and T-shirts with clever sayings emblazoned on the backs.
“I see you’ve been crying, Beth. What’s up with that? You know it’s okay to change your mind if that’s what you want to do.” Gracie’s voice was gentle yet firm.
“Are you out of your mind, Gracie? I can’t deprive the world of the next greatest country-western singer to hit the billboards. Read my lips. I-am-going-to-Nashville!”
“One more time, Beth. You can’t sing. You can’t even carry a tune.”
“That doesn’t matter. The machines do it all for you. I’ve got the looks, the personality, the body, and the stamina to make it work. They won’t even notice I can’t sing. Besides, I’m going to take lessons. I have it all worked out. John is going to join me in two weeks. By the time he gets there, we’ll be ready to take on Nashville like it’s never been taken on. By storm. You watch!”
“You can’t sing.”
“I do wish you’d stop saying that. I’m working on that end of it. You need to be more optimistic, Gracie.”
“And you need to be more realistic, Beth,” Gracie snapped.
“I was meant to do this. It’s in me. I just have to make it happen. I promise you, I am going to make it happen.”
For some strange, ungodly reason that she couldn’t define, Gracie believed her friend implicitly.
“Okay, now that we’ve settled all of that, do you have the plan down pat?”
Gracie grimaced. “I do. I can recite it in my sleep. I know exactly what to do, when to do it, and how to do it. I start the wheels in motion one month from today.”
“Good. That’s good. In a month’s time, Jake will be pulling his hair out by the roots and begging you to help him when you show up on his doorstep. From there on in, it’s your gig. I know that if anyone can make it happen, it’s you.
“I guess we should say our good-byes here, okay? Let’s not cry.” Beth sobbed as she gathered Gracie in her arms, who was sobbing harder than she was.
Ten minutes later, both young women were dry eyed, with Beth shouting over her shoulder about watering the flowers and to only use Old English on the furniture and a host of other things. She stopped in midsentence when Gracie slammed the door shut.
Gracie would take care of her house, she had no doubt. That worry was behind her now. Now she had to beard the lion. Maybe wolf was a better word. On the other hand, maybe Jake would act like her big brother, the brother she loved heart and soul. This time, her gut told her hope would not spring eternal.
Beth climbed behind the wheel of her Jeep Cherokee and started the engine. The Jeep was packed to the max with all her personal possessions, things she couldn’t bear to leave behind. She wished she felt light of heart as she started the ten-mile drive to her brother’s hidden fortress. That would come later, she thought, after she had left Jake behind.
The drive to the outskirts of Garden Grove, a small, private community between Charleston and Columbia, South Carolina, was uneventful. Beth arrived and parked in the driveway. She got out her cell and sent off a text to Moose since Jake never responded to her. It was simple. I’m in the driveway. I need to see Jake.
The returning text was almost instantaneous. Jake isn’t up to seeing anyone today, Beezer.
Beth returned the text. Then I will climb the fence. You know I will, so open the damn gate and let me in. Or I might decide to smash it and drive straight through. Make it easy on yourself. I’m not going away.
There was no return text. Instead, the gate swung open. Beth was through it in a nanosecond. When she arrived at the front of the house, Moose was already on the steps of the veranda, waiting for her.
Beth hopped out of the car.
Moose looked at the loaded Cherokee. “You going somewhere, Beezer?”
“Yeah. I came to say good-bye to that no-account brother of mine. Don’t try to stop me, Moose. Where is he?”
“Where you going?”
“None of your damn business. Now where is he?”
“Out on the back deck.”
Beth took off, sprinting around the side of the house to the deck, which was half in the shade and half in the sun. She stopped short and stared at her handsome brother until a giant lump formed in her throat.
“Hey!”
Jake Masters turned around and stared at his beautiful sister. “Hey!”
Beth walked around Jake’s chair and perched on a wooden coffee table littered with sports magazines.
“I’m not in the mood for visitors, Beezer. You should have called ahead.”
“I’m not exactly in the mood for visitors either, Jake. I’ve been calling ahead for three years now, and you never call me back, so what’s the point?” Beth said, noticing Moose hovering by the French doors, listening to everything they said. Ever the protector.
“Then what the hell are you doing here?” Jake snapped.
Beth almost lost it then and screamed at him, but she remembered the promise she made to herself not to lose her cool and not to cry. She sucked in a deep breath. “I came here for three reasons. One, to thank you for all you’ve done for me. Two, to pay you back. Three, to say good-bye.”
The good-bye was what got his interest. She could tell.
“You going somewhere?” Did she sense anxiety suddenly in his voice?
“Yeah. Yeah, I am. The Jeep is all packed up and parked in front. Couldn’t leave without telling my big brother good-bye even if he is an ass. Here,” she said, holding out a small manila envelope to him. He reached for it.
Jake slit the envelope and pulled out a check made out to him in the amount of $887,433.11. His eyes popped wide. “What’s this for, and where did you get this kind of money?”
“I told you, it’s payback for all you did for me.” Beth tossed a black-and-white marble notebook onto the table. “It’s all in there, right to the penny. I kept track, Jake. We’re square now unless you want the house back. I can deed it back to you. I wasn’t sure what you would want to do about it.”
Jake felt his insides start to crumble. This all sounded so serious, so . . . so final.
“The house was a gift. Why would I want it back?” he asked gruffly.
“I don’t know why, Jake. I don’t know anything about you anymore. You cut me off.”
“This hasn’t been easy for me, Beezer. In case you haven’t noticed, I’m crippled and in a wheelchair.”
“Oh, I noticed. I want you to stop calling me Beezer. I also know that your surgeons told you that another operation could do the trick, but you said no and took your marbles and went home and settled into that chair. You’re a quitter, Jake. I never thought I’d say that to you, but you are, you . . . Oh, what’s the point? You never listened to me in your life, and you aren’t going to start now.” In preparation for leaving, Beth got up and slung her purse, which was so large that it could have doubled as a weekend bag, over her slim shoulder.
“Wait just a damn minute here. I’ve called you Beezer from the day you were born because Mom said I couldn’t say Bethany. If you went through what I went through, you’d quit, too. Fifty-fifty isn’t good enough—that’s what the surgeons said. Where the hell are you going and where did you get this money?” Jake barked, his stomach churning like a windmill.
“I should have s
aid I came here for four things instead of three. I’m turning over my business to you, and God help you if you run it into the ground. If you do, I will come back here and cut your balls off. I started a matchmaking service three years ago, and it is now a multimillion-dollar business. I did it on my own, with no backing. Me. I did it. This,” she said, pulling a thick padded envelope out of her bag, “is all you need, plus your computer, to keep the company running. And guess what, big brother? You can do it in a wheelchair. I am going to Nashville to become the world’s next country-western singer, to answer your last question.”
Whatever Jake was expecting to hear, this wasn’t it. He felt like he had just dropped through the rabbit hole. “Beezer, you can’t sing,” he blurted, his eyes on the check in his hands.
“I’m getting a little sick and tired of hearing what I can and can’t do. Did you know you could play football back in the day? You had to jump through hoops, tryouts, the whole nine yards. Yeah, yeah, I’ve heard you say a thousand times you were born to play football. How’s that working for you now, Jake? Where’s your backup? You tried, why can’t I?”
Beth could feel her eyes start to burn. I will not cry. I will not. I absolutely will not cry. “Yes, I failed at all those things you helped me with. I admit that. I was trying to find my way. Do I have regrets? Hell, yes, a ton of them, but that isn’t going to stop me from doing what I know I was meant to do, what I was afraid to do until now. That’s the best defense I’m prepared to offer at this time. And, I just paid you back, so we’re square. Plus I gave you a bonus. My business. See ya, Jake.”
“Beezer, wait!” Jake said through clenched teeth. “I wasn’t judging you.”
“Yeah, you were, you always judged me, and I always came up short in your eyes. Enough with the bullshit, Jake. I’ve had it with you and your poor-me attitude. You should be glad you’re alive. And all that money you won in the court case, what was it I read, seventy-five million? Not too shabby, big brother. I guess the next question should be What’s a cripple like you going to do with seventy-five million plus all those other megamillions you earned along the way, with your salary and those endorsements? Figure it out, Jake. Go for the operation and stop being such a pussy.” Beth hated the words she’d just spewed, but she had to say them in the hopes she’d make her brother mad enough to do something besides vegetate in the wheelchair he was sitting in.
Perfect Match Page 1
