Читать книгу Beneath The Surface - Linda Turner, Linda Turner, Marilyn Pappano - Страница 7

“Don’t be such a coward,” Abby mumbled to herself. “People join dating services all the time. There’s nothing to it. Pick up the phone and call!”

Taking her own advice sounded easy enough, but she cringed at the thought of throwing herself back into the dating scene. She hated dating. She just wasn’t good at it. Men wanted a woman with curves and personality and sex appeal, and she lacked all three. Oh, she didn’t think of herself as a complete loser—she was pleasant and easygoing and knew how to act in public. When it came to men, however, her confidence was nonexistent. And it was all her mother’s fault.

“I think someone must have switched babies on me in the hospital. Look at you! You can’t be my kid. You’re skinny as a fence post, your face is covered with freckles and that red hair of yours glows in the dark. I never looked unattractive a day in my life. I was pretty.”

Even now, twenty-three years later, Abby could see her mother fluffing her hair and preening before her like some kind of movie star. Concerned only with herself, she hadn’t given a thought to what she was doing to her ten-year-old daughter’s self-esteem. Not that that was anything new, Abby thought with a grimace. Her mother had never passed up a chance to point out that she didn’t measure up, regardless of how hard she tried.

“Take my advice, sweetheart,” her mother had told Abby countless times. “Learn all you can while you’re in school, then get yourself a good job. You’re going to need it. No man is his right mind is going to want you. You’re just too plain.”

Abby hadn’t wanted to believe her, but time, unfortunately, had proved her mother to be right. Abby was thirty-three years old and could count the men who’d asked her out on the fingers of one hand. Which was why she’d agreed to date Dennis.

From the moment she’d met him, she’d known he wasn’t the Prince Charming she’d been waiting for her entire life. Not even close. But she was so tired of being alone. And he wasn’t a complete loser. At times he could be considerate. Though his constant bragging set her nerves on edge and he had even more insecurities than she did, she’d learned to close her ears to it. Things would work out, she’d told herself. They just needed some time.

Then she’d seen him through the eyes of her friends at her high-school reunion and was forced to face the truth. She could date Dennis for the rest of her life, but he just wasn’t the type of man she was ever going to love. She was only dating him because she didn’t want to be alone, and that wasn’t fair to him or herself. The minute they’d arrived back in Austin after the reunion, she’d broken off with him.

That was two months ago, and she hadn’t had a date since.

So what are you waiting for? that irritating little voice in her head demanded. If you want a man in your life, he’s not going to come knocking at your door. Step out of your comfort zone for once and go after what you want. Pick up the phone and call a dating service. It’s the only way you’re going to find someone!

Reluctantly, she had to agree. She didn’t have that many opportunities to meet people. She’d never liked the bar scene, and when she’d joined the singles club at church, the only man who’d shown her any attention was a fifty-year-old widower who was looking for someone to help him with his rebellious teenage daughter.

At least with a dating service, she would have an opportunity to meet someone who was close to her in age and possibly shared her interests, Abby admitted grudgingly. What would it hurt to try?

Her heart in her throat, she reached for the phone book in the bottom drawer of her desk and had just flipped it open to the yellow pages when Martin James, her boss, who was an Austin city councilman, stepped through the door between his office and hers. He’d been on the phone for the last twenty minutes with an unknown caller, and Abby only had to take one look at his set jaw to know that whatever business he’d discussed with the man had not gone well.

“Problems?” she asked.

“No more than usual,” he growled. “I’ll deal with it. I need you to make a bank deposit for me.”

“Of course,” she replied as he strode over to her desk and handed her a fat bank envelope. “Does it need to be in by two?”

“Just sometime today,” he began, only to frown down at the yellow pages on her desk and the section she had circled. “What’s this? Are you joining a dating service?”

With heat climbing her cheeks, she almost said no, but stopped herself just in time. What was wrong with her? She had no reason to be embarrassed. There was nothing wrong with using a dating service to find a date—people did it all the time.

Lifting her chin, she said, “Yes, I am. I was just about to call several and see how much it costs.”

“I’ve heard it can be pricey. Are you sure you want to do this? I’d be happy to introduce you to some of my friends.”

If anyone but Martin had made such an offer, she would have probably given it serious consideration. But she’d worked for him for three years, and that had given her plenty of time to get to know not only the man, but to meet some of his friends when they dropped by the office to visit him. Like Martin, they were charming, attractive, sophisticated…and far too smooth for Abby’s peace of mind. From what she’d seen, they were nothing but good-looking womanizers who had no intention of settling down with one woman anytime soon. All things considered, she wanted nothing to do with them.

She could hardly tell her boss that, however. Instead, she laughed. “Are you kidding? Martin, your friends are gorgeous and they go out with women who are as pretty as they are. I’m not in the same category.”

“That’s not true—”

“It’s okay,” she assured him. “I know what I am. And short, redheaded women with glasses don’t go out with hunks who like tall blond bombshells. So I’ll just stick to the dating service and see if I can find an ordinary guy who’s not looking for Miss America. I just want someone to go to the movies or out to dinner with, someone who’s already sowed his wild oats and wants to settle down and have babies. I don’t think your friends would qualify.”

“You got that right,” he laughed, not the least bit offended. Sobering, he added, “But do you want to go out with any Tom, Dick or Harry who joins a dating service? There are a lot of weirdos out there.”

“I know,” she said. “But I plan to be wonderful.”

“So when were you going to sign up?”

She hesitated, grimacing. “I was going to check into it first…”

“So you can find a reason not to do it?”

He knew her too well. “I just don’t want to make a mistake,” she replied. “I’ve done enough of that already.”

Not the least impressed with her practicality, he said, “Just remember, he who hesitates is lost. Sometimes you’ve just got to go for it. This could be one of those times.”

“So you think I should just jump into this?”

He grinned. “With both feet. In fact, you can start right this minute.” Walking around behind her desk, he rolled her chair back and urged her to her feet. “Go! Do it now! Make the bank deposit, then take the rest of the afternoon and go join your dating service. If Sonya and I ever break up, I may do it myself.”

Abby doubted that, but before she could think of another reason to delay, he grabbed her purse and the bank envelope, shoved them into her arms, and hustled her toward the front door. Her heart pounding crazily, she had no choice but to go.

An hour later, after she’d made the deposit at the bank for Martin, Abby didn’t know whether she wanted to thank her boss or shoot him. The second she walked through the front door of the Right One Dating Service, Judy Lake, an overly zealous staff worker, latched on to her like a duck on a june bug and hustled her into a small office. Before she’d even plopped her down in front of her desk, the woman was singing the praises of the dating service as if it was the greatest thing since sliced bread, and pushing her to join.

It was too much too fast, and almost immediately, Abby’s insecurities kicked in. “I’m not sure I’m ready to do this,” she said, abruptly rising to her feet. “I’ll think about it and get back to you.”

“Please don’t rush off,” Judy begged. “You’re just nervous. Everyone is at first.”

Torn, she hesitated. “I don’t even know why I talked myself into this. I’m lousy at dating. I get all tongue-tied and sound like I don’t have a brain in my head. And now I want to pay to put myself through that torture? It’s crazy!”

Judy grinned. “Put that way, I have to agree with you. But this isn’t about the money. You know that. It’s about taking a chance, putting yourself out there and possibly being rejected. No one wants to go through that.”

“My point exactly. So give me one good reason why I should do it?”

“I’ll do better than that,” she replied soberly. “I’ll give you three.” Holding up her hand, she counted them off on her fingers. “A husband. Children. Happily ever after. You’ll never have any of those things if you’re not willing to take a chance on love.”

Just that easily, she brought the sting of tears to Abby’s eyes. She did want all those things—she always had. She just didn’t know how to get them.

Sinking back into her chair, she was horrified to feel the tears spill over her lashes. “I’m sorry to be such a baby. This is just so hard.”

An understanding smile curled the corners of Judy’s mouth. Reaching for the box of tissues on the corner of her desk, she held it out to her. “I’ve been where you are. I felt the same way, then I joined the Right One, and my life changed almost overnight.”

Wiping her eyes, Abby arched a brow in surprise. “It was that easy?”

“No,” she admitted honestly. “It took time and effort, but it was worth it. If you sign up with us, you’ll get a printout on all the men we match you up with. I’ll warn you up front that they all look good on paper. Unfortunately, even jerks and chauvinists and bores join dating services. But so do some really great men. It’s your job to figure out which is which and find Mr. Right.”

“Do you do any type of screening or background checks? I’d just as soon avoid the jerks and chauvinists, but it’s the perverts and druggies and con men I’m worried about.”

Judy didn’t, thankfully, discount her concerns. “You have a right to be worried about that. Unlike some other dating services, we do a criminal background check on our prospective clients. Our dating counselors are very astute. If we have any doubts about a prospective client, even if we don’t find anything on them, we don’t sign them up. And everyone has to fill out a psychological profile. That tells us a lot about a person. If we’re not comfortable with their answers, we suggest they go to another dating service.

“It’s not a foolproof method,” she acknowledged, “but we haven’t had any complaints so far, and we’ve been in business ten years. So what do you say?” she challenged. “Are you game? I promise you you’ll meet some wonderful men.”

In the past, Abby would have thanked her for the information, then gone home and thought about it. In the end, though, she wouldn’t have done anything…because she was afraid to take a chance. God, she hated being so timid! She’d been playing it safe all her life, and what had it gotten her? Guys like Dennis! She was tired of hiding in the shadows and settling for obnoxious men because she thought she wasn’t good enough to attract someone better. She was a good person and she was going to do this for herself. If it turned out to be a mistake, then she’d do like the rest of the world and live with the consequences of her actions. At least she’d be taking charge of her life and really living instead of just existing!

Straightening her shoulders, she said, “I’m game. What do we do first?”

“The psychological test,” Judy replied with a pleased smile. “It takes about two hours— the first two hours of the rest of your life. Let’s get started.”

Already wondering if she’d lost her mind, Abby didn’t even consider backing out. Reaching for the questionnaire the other woman held out to her, she quickly began to fill it out.

Logan St. John looked at his brother and sister as if they had lost their minds. “You did what?!”

“Now, don’t get mad,” his sister, Patty, said hurriedly. “We just wanted to help you.”

His blue eyes dark with concern, his younger brother, Carter, agreed. “We’re worried about you. Ever since Faith died, you’ve become a recluse. You go to work, then come home and just stare at her picture. I know you loved her, but dammit, Logan, it’s been a year! You have to go on with your life.”

“I’m not going to a dating service,” he said flatly. “So you can just call whoever talked you into this and tell them you want your money back.”

His sister and brother exchanged a look. “We can’t,” Patty finally admitted. “They don’t give refunds.”

“This didn’t come cheap,” Carter added.

When he named an outrageous sum, Logan swore roundly. “You’ve lost your minds! Did either one of you ever stop to think that if I wanted to date, I would?”

“We were just trying to help,” Patty replied. “Okay, so we should have asked you. But we knew you would say no.”

“Because I don’t want to date!”

“No one does when they’re still mourning the death of a relationship,” Carter retorted. “We know you loved Faith. You two were perfect for each other. But she’s gone, Logan, and you’re miserable.”

“I’m coping.”

“No, you’re not,” he argued. “Look at yourself. You haven’t had a haircut in months, you need a shave, you don’t laugh anymore.”

“My wife died in a car wreck,” he growled. “I fell in love with her when I was in ninth grade and never looked at another woman. She was all I ever wanted. Do you really think I care what I look like?”

“That’s just it,” Patty stated quietly. “You don’t care about anything. You’ve cut yourself off from your friends and family, you bite people’s heads off. I can’t remember the last time I saw you smile, let alone laugh. And that makes me sad. You’re not the brother I grew up with. You’re not the man who loved Faith.”

“Faith wouldn’t be happy with you if she could see you,” Carter added. “In fact, she’d probably tell you off.”

Logan started to argue, only to shut his mouth with a snap. They were right. Faith had loved life, loved to laugh, loved to make him laugh. The last thing she would want was for him to hole up in the house, mourning her.

But he still loved her! He always would. How could he even think about going out with another woman when the only one he wanted to be with was Faith?

“You can’t expect me to act as if she never existed,” he said hoarsely. “I didn’t stop loving her just because she died.”

“Of course you didn’t,” Patty said, horrified that he thought they were asking such a thing of him. “You loved her since you were a freshman in high school. She will always own a piece of your heart. But you have to go on with your life, Logan. You have to get out, meet people. We thought this might be the best way.”

He should say no. A dating service? What were they thinking? Did they even realize what they were asking of him? He was thirty-five years old, and he’d only kissed one woman in his life, only made love to one woman. Faith. The love of his life. How could he even consider taking out another woman? He’d feel as if he were committing adultery.

But Carter and Patty had paid a ridiculous amount of money to the dating service to pull him out of his grief. How could he throw that back in their faces?

“I should shoot you both,” he growled. “You should have never spent so much money without discussing it with me first. Now I’m stuck with this.”

“So you’ll go?” Carter asked in surprise.

“What choice do I have?” he retorted. “I’m not going to let you guys waste that kind of money. But it’s not going to do any good, you know,” he added grimly. “I’ll never love anyone but Faith.”

Relieved, Patty stepped close to give him a fierce hug. “All we ask is that you give it a chance. Who knows? You might meet someone who’ll make life worth living again.”

Logan sincerely doubted that, but she was so pleased, he hated to burst her bubble. “What do I have to do?”

“Go to the dating service office and take a psychological test,” Carter said, handing him the prepaid contract. “A counselor’s already been assigned to you—she’s just waiting for your call.”

Rolling his eyes, Logan held the contract out in front of him as if it were going to bite him. “Just what I need—a psychological test. Maybe I’ll flunk it.”

Carter laughed. “Fat chance. You’re saner than anyone I know.”

Logan wasn’t so sure of that. If he’d had an ounce of sanity, he would never agree to go to a dating service!

Still, he kept his word and headed for the place. When he arrived twenty minutes later, however, he couldn’t bring himself to go in. This was crazy! Why hadn’t he thought to offer Patty and Carter their money back? It would cost him a tidy sum, but it would be worth it if it meant he didn’t have to pretend to be looking for a date.

“It’s safe to go inside,” a quiet feminine voice said. “They’re really quite nice.”

Looking up, Logan blinked at the sight of the woman holding the door for him. Slim and petite, with curly, dark auburn hair arranged in a thick braid down her back, she had a shy smile and understanding brown eyes that, for some reason, reminded him of Faith.

Taken aback by the thought, he frowned. What the devil was wrong with him? She looked nothing like his wife! His subconscious was just playing tricks on him and making him feel guilty for even thinking about dating another woman.

“Nothing personal,” he said dryly, “but I can think of a thousand other places I’d rather be.”

“Oh, I agree,” she said with a twinkle in her eyes. “Like the dentist.”

“Actually, I was thinking the opera, but the dentist will do.” Wishing he could stand there and chat just to keep from having to go inside, he forced a smile that held little humor. “I guess there’s no point in putting it off.”

“It’s better to get it over with,” she agreed. “Good luck.”

“My luck ran out a year ago,” he said flatly, “but thanks, anyway.”

With that cryptic comment, he turned and walked into the dating service. He’d hardly given his name to the receptionist when he was shown into the office of Nancy Hartfield, the counselor who’d been assigned to help him find Miss Right.

“So you’re Logan,” she said with a friendly smile, rising from her desk to shake hands with him. “It’s a pleasure meeting you. Your sister was afraid you wouldn’t come anywhere near the place when you found out what she and your brother had done.”

“I almost didn’t,” he retorted. “I’m not looking for a date, let alone a wife.”

“Well, that’s blunt enough,” she said wryly. “Obviously, Patty was right to be worried.”

“There’s a reason she and Carter didn’t tell me what they were up to until it was too late,” he said dryly. “They knew I’d never go for it.”

“But you’re here,” she pointed out. “Obviously you intend to participate.”

“Under protest. As much as I’d like to walk away, I can’t. This cost my brother and sister too much money.”

“I’m sure they appreciate that. And who knows? You may find a way to make the best of the situation. Just because you’re not looking for a date doesn’t mean you won’t make friends with some of the women we set you up with.”

Placing the psychological test in front of him, she explained how his answers would be fed into a computer, then matched with women whose test results were compatible with his. “So it’s very important that you answer the questions as honestly as possible. Even though you’re not looking for a date, we don’t want this to be a complete waste of time for you. Shall we begin?”

Resigned, he had little choice but to agree. Over the course of the next two hours, he answered questions about his likes and dislikes, politics, religious beliefs, ethics, even his plans for retirement. By the time he finished, he felt as if the dating service knew him better than his own family did.

Nancy immediately entered the results into the company database, and the computer spat out names of five candidates who might become the woman of his dreams. As far as Logan was concerned, that position had already been filled and a replacement wasn’t possible, but he obliging took the list, folded it and put it in his pocket.

Watching him, the counselor smiled. “At this point, I normally tell clients they can request another list of possible dates whenever they like, if they feel they’re not compatible with any of the previous matches made by the computer. But you’re different. I have an idea you’re not going to even look at the list, let alone call any of the women on it.”

“No, I’ll make some calls,” Logan assured her. “I gave Carter and Patty my word. I never said anything about being enthusiastic about the process. This wasn’t my idea, remember?”

To her credit, Nancy didn’t try to convince him to give the service more of a chance. Smiling slightly, she said, “Well, I guess that’s it, then. Good Luck.”

Surprised, he lifted a brow at her. “What? No pictures? Don’t most dating services take a picture to show the prospective dates?”

“We’re old-fashioned,” she replied simply. “We prefer to match people according to personality, not looks. That’s why we’re more successful than the others.”

He didn’t care how successful they were, they were going to strike out with him, Logan thought as he walked out of the building with a sigh of relief. Thank God that was over! He hadn’t lied to Nancy Hartfield. He would call some of the women on the list…in his own good time. Maybe he’d get around to it next week, when he had nothing better to do.

But twenty minutes later, when he unlocked the front door to the home he and Faith had shared for fifteen years, silence hit him like a slap in the face, just as it had every day since his wife had died. He tried to tell himself that it wasn’t so bad—he was getting used to it.

But the quiet made the house seem empty and cold, and loneliness tugged at his heart. Without thinking, he headed for the kitchen to grab a beer from the refrigerator. He’d just popped the lid on the can and started to lift it to his mouth when his gaze fell on the trash can next to the stove. It was nearly overflowing with empty beer cans.

Startled, he froze, scowling. Had he drunk that much beer over the last few days? He couldn’t have. Sure, he had a couple when he came home at night because he was lonely and he missed Faith so much, but there was nothing wrong with that. It wasn’t as if he was a drunk. He could control himself.

Oh, really? a voice in his head drawled. Then why didn’t you? What would Faith think if she could see you now?

The answer to that was a no-brainer. She’d be thoroughly disgusted with him.

Logan couldn’t say he’d have blamed her. He was pretty disgusted himself. This wasn’t who he was. At least, he never had been in the past. He wasn’t a teetotaler, but he’d never made it a practice to drink regularly, either. Or at least he hadn’t until Faith died.

God, he missed her! He missed the smell of her, the taste of her, the sound of her voice. Given the chance, he would have done just about anything to feel her in his arms again. But he wouldn’t become a drunk just because he didn’t want to go through life without her. Stepping to the kitchen sink, he poured out the beer he’d just opened, then collected the rest of the cans from the refrigerator and tossed them in the trash. Not giving himself time to think about what he was about to do, he pulled out the list of women Nancy Hartfield had given him, then reached for the phone.

“Hello?”

Logan flinched at the eager female voice that shrilled in his ears seconds after he finished punching in the first number on the list. Was the woman sitting by the phone, waiting for it to ring? he wondered. “Hi,” he said gruffly. “This is Logan St. John. Is this Missy Trainer?”

“Yes! Did you get my name from the Right One Dating Service? I didn’t know if I should call or wait for someone to call me first. Have you called anyone else? This is just so exciting!”

In her too high voice, she rushed on to tell him how she’d never had a serious relationship, but this time she just knew she was going to meet Mr. Right. Logan hoped she did, though he knew it wasn’t going to be him. Not that she gave him a chance to tell her that. Wound up like a battery-operated bunny, she just kept talking and talking and didn’t give him a chance to get a word in edgewise.

“I’m sorry,” he cut in abruptly. “But there’s someone at the door. We’ll have to talk another time.”

“What? Oh…well, okay.”

He hung up before she could say another word, then almost threw the dating list in the trash. This was nuts! What was he doing? He loved Faith. He wasn’t going to forget her by talking to someone like Missy Trainer!

So call someone else.

He almost didn’t. But Patty and Carter knew he’d gone to the dating service today, and before the night was over, one of them would call to see if he’d set up any dates yet. Muttering a curse, Logan reached for the phone and punched in the second number on the list. He hoped they appreciated this, he thought. There weren’t many people he would do this for.

Praying that the second woman on the list wouldn’t be as bad as the first, he braced himself for God knows what as an answering machine clicked on and a mechanical voice said, “I can’t come to the phone at the moment. Leave a number at the beep.”

Disgusted, he sighed. Apparently, this wasn’t his night. “Hello,” he said, leaving a message. “This is Logan St. John. I’m looking for Abby Saunders. I got her number from the Right One Dating Service…”