“She is. But she also wanted to delve into the personal side of it. Stuff like why do I own a matchmaking firm if I’m determined to stay single.”
“A question Mom and I have pondered many a time,” Jane said.
“Um … you’re single, too. Would you like to delve into your reasoning on that?”
“I haven’t met Mr. Right,” she said.
“I don’t think you’re even looking,” Conner said. “I do want you to be happy.”
“I am happy. And I suspect you are, too. We aren’t like other people who need a spouse to be fulfilled,” she said. “We learned a long time ago to depend on ourselves—and each other, of course.”
“Of course,” he agreed. He hadn’t realized that Janey felt the same way he did. He’d tried his best to shield her from the worst of the fallout with their father. “I thought I protected you from most of the family drama that made me such a loner.”
“You did. You have always been the best big brother a girl could ask for.”
“The best … that’s not what you tweeted a few minutes ago.”
She laughed as he’d hoped she would. It bothered him that his sister was as closed-off to interpersonal relationships as he was. He’d adjusted to living alone and not letting anyone get too close, but Janey was gregarious and always had a group of friends around her.
“Love you,” she said.
“Love you, too, brat. Is Mom coming to this soirée of yours?”
“No, she has a board meeting for her charity. She said if you didn’t agree to come she’d call and put the screws to you.”
“You two always team up, don’t you?”
“If we didn’t, you’d stay shut away in your office like some sort of hermit and then, when we finally did see you, who knows what you’d look like.”
“Now you’re just being silly,” he said. He liked that Jane had retained most of her upbeat personality. She’d always been a giggling little girl, but after their father left and the scandal broke there were times when Conner thought he’d never hear his sister’s laughter again. Luckily, over the years they’d moved on and slowly that specter of pain from their father had dulled.
“Yes, I am. See you tomorrow night,” she said and hung up the phone.
Conner spent the rest of the afternoon in meetings and pretending that he didn’t notice that Nichole Reynolds had tweeted about him right after Jane had. He knew that social media was the wave of the future, but personally didn’t care for it.
Which was why he continued checking to see if Nichole tweeted anything else. He didn’t know why he was so obsessed with that woman. Sure, she could kiss his socks off and just the thought of her in his arms gave him a raging hard-on, but otherwise she was just like every other woman and reporter he’d ever met.
He was kidding himself. He knew that she was different and he wanted to see her again. Except that he’d done everything in his power to make sure she didn’t come back.
He knew that he’d said some callous things to her the last time they were together. A better man would call and apologize or send flowers or jewelry, but he couldn’t be that man … wouldn’t be that man. As Janey had said, life was easier when he only depended on himself, and he wasn’t about to risk that for Nichole Reynolds, no matter what her effect on him.
Willow lived in Brooklyn in one of those brownstones that were going for millions of dollars back before the beginning of the recession. She had waited and watched the property she wanted until the market had gone soft and she’d been able to buy it. That was one thing about her friend that Nichole envied. Willow had patience. She would wait as long as it took to make something happen.
Nichole knocked on Willow’s door just as another cab pulled up and Gail Little stepped out. Gail smiled and once again Nichole was struck by how happy her friend looked. The two women hugged and said hello. Willow opened the door with her cell phone to her ear. She gestured for them to come in.
“So why did you call this emergency meeting?” Gail asked as they both entered Willow’s foyer and walked down the short hall into the kitchen.
“Willow is keeping a secret about Jack Crown,” Nichole said, opening the cabinet to get out three wineglasses. Gail opened the bottle of chilled Chardonnay she’d brought and poured three glasses.
“She is?”
“I’m not,” Willow said, entering the room. “I knew him in high school.”
“How come you never mentioned it before now?” Nichole asked.
Willow sighed and took a long swallow of her wine. “Let’s sit down if you’re going to grill me. I ordered a pizza and it should be arriving in fifteen minutes.”
“Good,” Gail said with a big smile. “Plenty of time for you to tell us all about your Jack.”
“He’s not my Jack … I tutored him when he was a junior.”
“What year were we in?” Nichole asked.
“Freshman.”
“That must have been humiliating for him,” Gail said.
Willow flushed and looked down at her glass. “I have no idea. He needed help in English. That was all.”
It didn’t take reporting skills for Nichole to know there was a lot more to the story than Willow was letting on.
“Yeah, right,” Gail said.
“Why didn’t you ever mention him to us?” Nichole asked.
“Because he was just another kid I was tutoring. You guys didn’t want to hear about that.”
“Was he cute back then?” Nichole asked. “He had to be. He has what scientists call the golden triangle. His face is perfectly symmetrical. He is beautiful,” Nichole said.
“Don’t let him hear you say that. His head might explode,” Willow said.
“That sounds like a lot more than just his old tutor talking. What happened between the two of you?” Gail asked.
Willow finished her glass of wine and poured another. “He … he was just a teenage boy and I was a stupid teenage girl who thought that just because he was nice to me in private we were friends in public.”
“Oh, Will, I’m so sorry,” Nichole said, putting down her glass to go and hug her friend. Gail joined them, rubbing Willow’s back.
“That’s too bad. He seems like a fun guy now,” Nichole said.
“You’d probably like him,” Willow said. “He keeps things light, the way you do.”
Nichole wasn’t too sure she kept things light anymore. She certainly hadn’t been able to do that with Conner. She wanted something more with him, but wasn’t sure she trusted herself.
“He’s not my type,” Nichole said, mentally comparing Jack to the clean-cut handsomeness of Conner. He’d suddenly become her fantasy man. No surprise there, given the chemistry that sizzled between them.
“Since when?” Willow asked.
“You don’t understand what I liked in my boy toys,” Nichole said.
“Liked? Do you want something else now?” Gail asked. “This is exciting. Do you have a man in your life? One you’re serious about? I think you were grilling Willow to keep us from asking you about your life.”
Nichole bit her lower lip. “Truthfully, there is a guy, but it’s complicated and I really don’t think anything is going to come of it. But I sort of wish something would.”