by Kay Lyons
“The first time was a practice date,” Izzy said from the other room, where she was sprawled across Amelia’s bed.
Her friend had arrived an hour ago after dropping off a piece of her artwork for a downtown shop and claimed to be there for moral support. Amelia wasn’t so sure that was the case. Because really? If not for her friend, she wouldn’t be stressing about the hours ahead. Somehow going to a sperm clinic seemed easier than what was basically a blind date.
“The second time will be the charm.”
“Isn’t the saying the third time is the charm?” she muttered, her voice echoing off of the mirror in front of her. “Am I really going to have to go through this again?”
“I’m an optimist,” Izzy said. “It’ll be the second. And you said yourself the first match wasn’t horrible and he was a nice man, you just weren’t attracted to him enough to go out again. Marsali gets that time is of the essence, so I’m sure this one will be better. Think positive!”
Amelia applied mascara and made that face women tended to make while doing so, her words coming out elongated and weird as she focused on the task and tried to tamp down the nerves churning in her belly. “What makes you think this one will be better than the last?”
The date Marsali had arranged hadn’t been bad. The man had been polite and courteous, but she’d felt no chemistry whatsoever. It was like sitting across the table from one of her brothers. He’d stated repeatedly that he’d like to see her again, but she’d stayed noncommittal, even during the extraordinarily awkward goodbye, when he’d given her a kiss on the cheek. His interest had been clear, which made the evening all the more difficult.
“What did Marsali say about this man when she called you?” Izzy asked.
“She said he’s tall, dark, and handsome, with a little salt in the pepper, thirty-eight like me, and in real estate. And he’s a widower.”
“Oh, ouch. Kids?”
“Two,” Amelia said, giving up on the makeup and deciding it was as good as it was going to get. “Marsali never wants to give too much information because she wants us to have plenty to talk about in the get-to-know-you stage, so that’s all I got from her beyond where we’re meeting and such.”
“Well, the tall, dark, and handsome part sounds yummy. Just go and enjoy. Where are you having dinner?”
“Wrightsville Beach,” Amelia said, naming the restaurant.
“Good choice. The view is amazing there. See? You’re off to a good start already. It’ll all work out.”
“I don’t know. I mean it,” she said when she spotted Izzy rolling her eyes. “How crazy is it to go meet a stranger on what is basically a blind date when the news is full of sex traffickers?”
“Seriously, Meli? Marsali vetted him. He’s not a sex trafficker—or a serial killer like you accused the last one of being.”
“I didn’t accuse him of anything. I just said to you that it was possible.”
“Anything is possible these days.”
“Yeah, that comment? Not helpful.”
Izzy laughed and rolled to sit upright on the edge of the bed. Amelia glanced at Izzy and wondered how anyone as beautiful as her younger friend could still be single. Izzy was picky, though, and since Amelia had known her, a rare few men had ever made the cut and managed to get Izzy to the dating stage. Izzy typically cut them loose after a few days’ thought for one reason or another, none of which ever really made sense to Amelia.
“You’re nervous. I get it,” Izzy said in a soothing voice. “Look, if it would make you feel better, I’ll come with you.”
“Be serious.”
“I am,” Izzy said, shrugging. “It’s Friday night, I have no plans, and I just got a very healthy commission from the painting I dropped off earlier. I’m due some really good seafood. I could come with. We ride there, split up once we get there, I sit at the bar and have a nice meal while flirting with the bartender, and you do your thing meeting your date. I could use a dinner out, trust me. Doritos can only so many meals make.”
“You’d do that?”
“And get to see one of Marsali’s wonderful men from afar? Absolutely. I want to know if you’re being too critical, and this is the only way I’ll be able to judge.”
“I don’t know, Iz.”
“Hey, just an offer. I’d keep my distance unless I see you head to the ladies’ room. Otherwise I’ll eat, drink, and flirt, and head out to the car after you send a text that the date is over. Or you could be nice and pick me up at the door. You’ll never hear a peep from me, but I’ll keep a discreet eye on you. Sound like a plan?”
“Yeah, it does, actually.” Amelia hesitated at the thought of taking someone else on her date but gave in to the lure of security. A girl couldn’t be too careful these days. And a background check wouldn’t necessarily vet out crazy. Had they done this the first time, maybe Amelia wouldn’t have been so nervous? Why were these setups so… difficult? Maybe because you didn’t instigate them? But it would make her feel good to have a friend nearby. “Fine. I guess that means you’re my incognito plus one.”
“Yay! I need five minutes,” Izzy said, grabbing her large purse. “Oh, and to raid your closet. Hey, if I’m going to sit at the bar, I might as well look good. Maybe I’ll find a lonely Mr. Right.”
“Maybe you should’ve hired Marsali to match you instead of me,” Amelia said, her tone grumbling while Izzy proceeded to strip.
Amelia vacated the bathroom and pulled on the clothes she’d picked out earlier before taking Izzy’s place on the bed. Izzy might be an artist and free spirit in some ways, but in others she was always prepared. That magical bag of hers held everything from makeup and sketchpads to a bikini and all the odds and bits Izzy might need to hop a flight or solve whatever problem might come up. Izzy had amazed at times, from producing whatever was needed for a wardrobe malfunction or a bad hair day to being passport ready on a whim.
“Oh, no,” Izzy said, bringing Amelia’s attention back to the present. “This is alllll you. I’m not the one Googling sperm banks. But just think, you still have four whole weeks left if you change your mind about your three-matchup rule. You know Marsali wants to help you, and she’d be happy to continue matching you until you find the one.”
“You mean the one I don’t believe actually exists?” Amelia pulled a throw pillow from the bed to hug and dug her toes into the carpet beneath her feet.
“Really? Are we going back to that again?” Izzy asked with the snap of her eye shadow palette.
Izzy turned and leaned a shoulder against the doorframe of the bathroom, her gaze so uncomfortably direct Amelia squirmed. “Why not?” Amelia said. “Izzy, that’s why picking someone out at the sperm clinic might work for me. I mean, what are the odds that there is a perfect person out there for everyone? Or the odds that I’ll actually find mine?”
“If you think of it that way, it is depressing, but I think there are a lot of someones out there we would be happy with, and the key is finding one of them. Those odds are better and it takes the pressure off, right? Because we’re not searching for that perfect someone. We’re going for someone we can be happy with.”
“Isn’t that settling?” It sure sounded like settling to her. Because even if there were multiple someones out there, finding one was still an issue. After all, there was a big, wide world out there with billions of people.
But, again, what if her high school boyfriend was her one? What if she’d walked away and, in doing so, set the course to be alone her entire life? Could she bring herself to settle for something less than what she’d had in the past? Because no one had ever compared to—
“No, it’s not settling,” Izzy argued. “Happiness is just… It’s being content with what you have, including the person you’ve fallen in love with, who loves your good and bad, just like you love theirs, and focusing on making that relationship the best it can be. You work together, you’re not at odds.”
“Look at you getting all philosophical and romantic.”
Amelia hated that Izzy made so much sense, but she couldn’t deny the truth of her bestie’s words. It would be a lot easier raising a child in a family atmosphere. Maybe she should stop being so negative toward the process and take it one date at a time? Heaven knew that would help, but it would also be so much easier if her biological clock wasn’t ticking away like a finely tuned race car whipping around the track. “Fine. I’ll try.”
“Yay. I knew I’d win. Wait, you’re wearing that?” Izzy narrowed her gaze and shook her head. “No.”
“What? What’s wrong?” Amelia asked, staring down at her clothes.
“You’re too professional. Meli, this is a date. You want to be casual. Fun and flirty,” Izzy stated, shoving herself off the wooden frame. “I’m going closet diving. Do you still have that skirt I gave you?”
“Yeah. But it’s awfully short. You should’ve kept it and had it hemmed up for you.” Izzy was about four inches shorter than Amelia’s five eight, but they were the same size otherwise.
Izzy began digging and searching.
“Ah! Here it is. Put this on,” Izzy said, shoving it at Amelia.
Amelia eyed the patterned beach-themed skirt and sighed. “I’m not going to win with this, either, am I?”
“Nope,” Izzy said, her voice muffled by the closet as she dug for a blouse.
Amelia unzipped and shrugged out of the palazzo pants she had on and carefully laid them across the bed before pulling on the skirt. Thanks to the height difference, it landed a hair above mid-thigh. “Are you sure it’s not too short?”
A blouse hit her chest and Amelia scrambled to catch it before it fell to the floor. Interesting. Not something she would’ve chosen to wear with the skirt, but the color combination totally worked. She’d have to remember this in the future.
“It’s perfect. Especially with those stilts you call legs. Let’s see you. Hurry up.”
Amelia donned the sleeveless blouse, but before she could do much more, Izzy’s fingers unbuttoned one of the buttons over Amelia’s chest.
“Don’t you dare button that back up. Oh, this is good. Much better. Now, jewelry. And perfume. Leave your hair a bit mussed. It’s sexy.”
Sexy? Amelia waited and let Izzy do her thing. Her friend moved to the dresser to look over the various items on display for easy access and chose a bracelet and dangly earrings. Finally, after a spritz of perfume on her pulse points, Izzy deemed Amelia ready.
“Remember. Now that Marsali has your feedback on the first date to go along with what you told her during your client interview, the odds are even higher that this will be the guy. Just enjoy yourself.”
Maybe. Only time would tell.
While Izzy went back to the closet for something for her to wear to the restaurant, Amelia reclaimed her perch on the edge of the bed and waited. During her dinner with Izzy and Marsali, the matchmaker had bombarded Amelia with questions about her likes and dislikes, temperament preferences, pet peeves. No stone was left unturned, and Marsali did the same interviews with the men. Maybe this one would be better now that the first one was out of the way? But Marsali had no way of judging chemistry, so theoretically it could be another dud.
No. We’re thinking positive. No duds!
“Okay, I’m ready. Oh! We forgot shoes for you. Where are those new shoes of yours that I love so much? The wedges with the ankle straps?”
Amelia moved to the closet once more and found the shoes Izzy coveted. One of the perks of being on set so much behind the scenes was making friends with the costume designers and getting various castoffs at the end of filming.
Amelia donned the shoes, then took a deep breath before she stood and towered even higher over her shorter friend. “How do I look?”
“Dang, girlfriend. I’d totally date you. Now… what are we going to do?”
Amelia blinked. “Go to dinner?”
“Find a man!” Izzy said in her best cheer voice. “Let’s do this.”
Izzy had chosen a turquoise tunic Amelia typically wore with leggings, but given their height difference, Izzy was able to wear it as a dress. Paired with her blinged-out flip-flops, it looked cute and summery.
Traffic was thick due to the weekend and beautiful weather, and forty minutes later, Amelia dropped her friend off outside the restaurant to get herself situated at the bar before parking her secondhand Mercedes SUV in the lot. She took a final look in her mirror and touched up the lipstick she’d worried off during the drive.
Her heart pounded in her chest, and even though she’d done this once already, her anxiety skyrocketed. Meeting someone naturally at the grocery store or a park was one thing, but when she was so aware of it being a setup, she couldn’t help but think it added another layer of stress.
Amelia got out of the vehicle and clutched her wrap and purse as she headed toward the restaurant, aware of several male heads turning as she made her way to the entrance. At least her appearance was on point tonight and the admiring looks boosted her flagging confidence.
Like the first time, she paused at the hostess stand and gave Marsali’s name. Marsali valued the privacy of her clients, and unless Amelia chose to give the man her full name and contact info, everything went through Marsali, including the dinner reservation.
“This way,” a handsome young host said. “Follow me.”
The young man’s height and broad shoulders blocked her view as he led the way into the dining area, and Amelia’s nervousness cranked higher, forcing her to take a steadying glance out the floor-to-ceiling windows at the beautiful view of the Atlantic beyond. The host stopped and Amelia stumbled a bit at the abrupt halt. She hoped her date didn’t notice her clumsiness and think she’d arrived drunk.
She smiled at the host, who held her chair, before forcing herself to face her date for the evening. Amelia gasped sharply and practically fell into the chair when her legs gave out.
This couldn’t be— Really?
Amelia stared into the black-brown eyes of Lincoln Hayes, all the while struggling to take a breath. Her body floated, transported back in time to the sweetness of first love and the heat they’d shared.
“Your server will be right with you. Enjoy your evening,” the host said as he walked away.
Lincoln’s eyes warmed, and the little lines at the corners crinkled as he smiled that gorgeous, make-her-knees-weak smile of his. Oh, he’d easily convinced her to do many things with that smile. Drag race in the dark of night on a deserted road, climb to the top of a water tower for a make-out session, fall completely and totally in love with him. So many things….
Except one.
“Amelia. It’s been a long time.”
Chapter 4
Lincoln slowly lowered himself into his seat at the table and pondered the odds of his first professional match being his high school girlfriend of two and a half years.
“It’s good to see you, Lincoln. You look great,” she said, smiling.
“So do you.”
Amelia showed little of the twenty years between their last conversation—their breakup—and this one. Her hair was still the same light brown, though now she wore it shorter and curled along her neck and shoulders, and her eyes were the same soft green with umber flecks in them, reminding him of rich, thick moss. Amelia had always had that girl-next-door look about her, but she’d grown into a beautiful woman.
An awkward silence descended on them as they stared at one another, gazes locked and searching. His chest squeezed from the heaviness of the pain they’d gone through, the pain she’d caused. And despite the years, a bit of anger returned. No one liked getting dumped, after a
ll.
“Is this as… shocking to you as it is to me?” she asked.
“I—”
“Welcome. I’m Jamie. May I get your drink order?” a waitress asked as she paused by their table.
Since Lincoln already had a drink in front of him, Amelia ordered an iced tea.
“No wine?”
“Oh, I definitely need a clear head for this,” she told him somewhat wryly.
Once the waitress walked away, Lincoln inhaled and nodded. “It is strange.”
“Right? I mean, we dated twenty years ago but to match again now—”
She gasped sharply and Lincoln braced himself for whatever came next. Given her expression, it wasn’t good.
“Marsali said you’re a widower? Oh, Lincoln, I’m sorry.”
He accepted the condolences with a nod and tried not to think of the grief that had lessened over the years but was and always would be there. “Thanks. It’s been three years. Car accident,” he said, since that was usually the next question. “She passed at the scene.”
“Just like your parents.”
Amelia’s gaze softened even more and he saw a sparkle of tears she blinked away to keep in check. The sight touched him, though it confused him more. He wondered how Amelia could be so compassionate and yet walk away as she had. He’d lived in a fog afterwards, destroyed by Amelia’s betrayal… until he’d met Jill.
“You’ve been through so much. I’m just… I have no words, Lincoln.”
He nodded, not really wanting to talk about his life with his wife when he sat across the table from another woman who’d broken his heart with her refusal and disappearance twenty years prior. It was… weird, this boomerang feeling of time repeating itself. Except, this time it couldn’t since Jill was gone.
“Lincoln, if this is too weird for you, I can go,” Amelia said. “I… I know I hurt you, but believe me when I tell you I’m sorry for that. If it’s any consolation, I broke my own heart that night as well.” She glanced at the bar before turning back to him. “You know, I think I’m going to leave. You seem a little shell-shocked,” she said, getting her purse from the chair beside her.
