Читать книгу The Marriage Portrait - Pamela Bauer, Pamela Bauer - Страница 12

Normally the clinic was open until three on Saturdays. Oftentimes that wasn’t near long enough. Pets—like humans—frequently needed treatment on weekends after the office was closed and Michael did his best to accommodate them.

Only on this particular Saturday, business was very slow. As the hands on the clock moved toward closing time, he knew that unless an emergency arose, he wasn’t going to be able to use work as an excuse for not going to the dinner Tessie had arranged. Nor could he say he lost track of time and forgot. His mother called him at least four times to remind him of her birthday gift.

“It’s certainly been a quiet Saturday, hasn’t it?” Tabitha commented as she sprayed disinfectant over the surgical table. “Hope that doesn’t mean you’re going to have a crazy night. You are on call, right?”

Michael nodded. “Lynn’s out of town for the weekend.”

“Well, let’s hope you’re lucky and you can enjoy what’s left of yours without any interruptions.”

Little did she know that an interruption was exactly what he needed. Unsure of how to approach the subject, he said, “I was wondering if you could do me a favor this evening?”

“What kind of favor?”

“Could you page me at eight o’clock?”

“I guess, but why?” She fixed him with a perplexed stare.

“Let’s just say I’m in a bit of a predicament that I need to get out of without hurting anybody’s feelings.”

“Oh, I get it. I’ll page you and you’ll go to a phone, pretend to call and then announce to whoever it is you’re with that you have to leave. Is that it?” A sly twinkle danced in her eye.

He felt like a fool for having to ask, especially because he could see by the look on her face that she thought he’d gotten himself involved with a woman and didn’t know how to extricate himself.

He debated as to whether or not he should tell her the truth. Tabitha had been a loyal employee for six years, yet he was not naive enough to believe she didn’t talk with the other women in the office.

“That’s it. And it’s not what you’re thinking.”

“It isn’t?”

“No. It’s…” He paused, then finally decided to take the risk, and said, “The only reason I’m asking you to do this is because of Tessie.” He went on to explain her birthday gift to him, expecting her to find it amusing.

“What a sweet thing to do. I hear dating services are very popular and a great way to meet people.”

“Then you don’t see anything wrong with using one?”

“No, not at all.” She smiled. “Although I have to admit in your case it is kind of funny that Tessie thinks you need help getting a date. Obviously she doesn’t know about…”

“No, she doesn’t. So you can see why I need you to page me at eight. I really don’t want to go to anything connected with a dating service.”

“But you can’t hurt her feelings.”

“Exactly.”

“Very well, boss. At eight o’clock I’ll ring your pager. Anything else you want before I leave?”

“I would appreciate you not mentioning this to anyone else…for Tessie’s sake, of course.”

“Of course. It’s our secret.” She made a gesture as if she had an imaginary key locking her lips.

Michael didn’t like secrets. They had a way of slipping out when one least expected it, but he was relieved he’d talked to Tabitha. Now he could put in an appearance at the dinner and make Tessie happy. He smiled to himself and patted the pager he had clipped to his belt.

Later that evening as he parked his Ford Explorer outside the popular five-star restaurant, it suddenly occurred to him that he was going to be in a very public place and might be recognized. He groaned silently. What he didn’t need was for his friends to learn that he’d gone to a dating service dinner.

He decided to stay in the car for as long as he could to avoid that possibility. He sat listening to the radio, watching other patrons go inside. Every time he saw a single man or woman, he wondered if they were one of the hopeless. For that’s how he viewed his dinner companions. Despite Tabitha’s assurances that dating services had changed and were now an acceptable option as a meeting place for singles, he couldn’t help but regard them as playgrounds of the hopeless.

He watched as the numbers on the digital clock continued to change with each passing minute until he knew he could put off the inevitable no longer. Reluctantly he climbed out of the car and went inside.

At the hostess stand, an attractive blonde wearing a very short skirt and a glittery tight top eyed him with obvious interest as he approached. “One for dinner?”

“Actually I’m meeting some people. I believe the reservation is under Claudia Dixon,” he answered, wishing he could say he was alone. Even eating alone in a fancy restaurant on a Saturday night was preferable to the ordeal he was about to endure.

“You’re with Dinner Date?” The blonde lifted one eyebrow with definite interest and her smile became even friendlier. “Claudia said she had a unique group coming in tonight, but she didn’t tell me it would have so many attractive men in it.”

“You want to join us for dinner?” Michael asked, not one to pass up an opportunity to flirt.

She gave him an equally flirtatious grin as she said, “Wish I could, but duty calls. However, maybe if you’re still here when I get off…” She let the sentence dangle.

“Maybe.” He gave her a promising smile, knowing perfectly well that he would be gone before she had time to rest her pretty little feet.

She looked down at the book in front of her. “You must be Michael.” She scribbled over his name with a pen, then looked up and gave him another smile. “Follow me and I’ll show you where everybody is.”

As he followed her swaying hips, he wished that she was going to be included in the dinner party, but then he realized that the hostess was not the kind of woman that needed anyone to find her an escort. Which only made him wonder again about the men and women who would be at this dinner.

Unsuitable was the first word that came to mind. Normally he didn’t prejudge people, but in this case, he honestly didn’t see what he would have in common with anyone who thought a dating service was necessary to find a date.

Tessie had said the men and women who used Dinner Date were professionals. Professional duds was probably a better description, he thought as each step took him closer to his destination.

“You have a very nice table in the back, very private,” the blonde told him as she escorted him through the dining area.

Michael didn’t comment, but continued to follow her until he caught a glimpse of his dinner companions. They were seated at a round table. He stopped when he saw that all of the chairs had occupants.

The hostess, however, continued toward the table, bending to say something to a woman with red hair, who immediately jumped up when she saw him.

With hand outstretched, she came toward him. “Hi. I’m Claudia Dixon. You must be Michael.”

He shook her outstretched hand, wishing he had never accepted Tessie’s gift. He should have simply told his mother that as much as he loved her, he didn’t want to have dinner with a bunch of strangers.

“Come. I’ll introduce you to the others,” Claudia said, pulling him by the arm over to the table.

The others were all thirty-something professionals who readily shook his hand and smiled warmly as he was introduced to each of them individually. Everyone was identified by first name and occupation. Michael heaved a sigh of relief when he didn’t recognize a single face.

Although all four of the women were attractive, Michael didn’t expect that he’d be asking for any phone numbers at the end of the evening. Not that he could have. As Claudia explained, if anyone wanted to pursue a friendship with any of the participants, protocol required that it be done through Dinner Date. Phone numbers would only be given out through the service and that would only happen if the other person agreed to another meeting.

Michael took his seat between two women and listened as Claudia explained that twice during the meal—after the appetizers had been served and just before dessert—the women would move over one chair in order that everyone had an opportunity to visit with everybody at the dinner. She encouraged them to get to know one another and have a pleasant evening.

“Since my work is done, I’ll leave you to get acquainted. I know you’re going to enjoy this evening and hope that you’ll recommend Dinner Date to other singles.”

Not likely, Michael thought, tempted to loosen the tie that felt as if it were choking him. He still couldn’t believe that he was here and, for the umpteenth time, wished that he hadn’t accepted Tessie’s gift. As he glanced around the table he expected that the others would look as uncomfortable as he felt.

To his surprise, however, very few looked uneasy. He wondered if it was because everyone in this room had done this type of thing before. Maybe they were used to being in a small group and having to break the ice. Or maybe they were extroverts. Or maybe they were all just really lonely and welcomed the opportunity to talk to strangers.

“Is this your first time?” Sharon, the nurse on his right, asked him.

“As a matter of fact it is,” he replied. He wanted to tell her—and the entire group—just why he was sitting at the dinner table with them. He mentally debated whether he should make an announcement, let them know his motives were not the same as theirs. What he didn’t need was for any of the women to think he was seriously looking for a mate.

Because he wasn’t.

Sharon, however, obviously was, judging by the way she was looking at him. “So you’re an animal doctor,” she said, studying him intently.

“Yes.”

“That’s probably why Claudia put us next to each other. We’re both in health care,” she said with a smile that implied they shared a secret. “What do you like to do in your free time?”

“I have very little free time,” he answered.

“Which is why it’s so hard to meet people.” She drew her own conclusion as to why he was there. “I know that feeling.”

To his relief, the appearance of a waitress preempted any further conversation. As she passed out menus and took beverage orders, Michael asked for a Scotch on the rocks.

Although the waitress didn’t bat an eyelash upon hearing his request, he could see that the others weren’t expecting him to order an alcoholic beverage. After hearing everyone else at the table order coffee, tea or a soft drink, he turned to Sharon and asked, “Are we not supposed to drink at these things?”

“Claudia puts nondrinkers together,” she answered. “Did you check the wrong box on the application form?”

He hadn’t checked any box. That was the problem. Here he was at a dinner with people who supposedly had similar interests as he did—or in this case, as Tessie thought he had. He sighed. What had she gotten him into?

Again the urge to announce to the table exactly why he was having dinner with them was great. Except what would he say? That he was only here because his mother made him come? Good grief. He was thirty-five, not thirteen. No, these people wouldn’t understand why he’d attend a dinner simply to please his mother. It was better to say nothing and stick it out until Tabitha called. Then he could beat feet out of the restaurant and never return.

If there was one thing the Scotch on the rocks had done it was to get Sharon the nurse to turn her attention to the man on her right. Michael took a sip of the amber liquid, needing the hot, burning sensation it created as he swallowed it. As he set his glass down, he noticed a pair of eyes on him.

They belonged to a woman Claudia had introduced as Cassie and held a sparkle of amusement in them. She smiled at him and said, “So tell me, what’s it like being an animal doctor, Dr. Michael?”

He liked the sound of her voice. It was low and sultry—more like something he’d find in a lounge singer. A direct contrast to the fair skin and mischievous sparkle in her blue eyes.

“Probably quite different from an artist’s life,” he answered. Before he could say another word, the man to her right interrupted, changing the subject and capturing the artist’s attention.

Michael continued to watch her, surprised by the ease with which she managed to converse with a table of strangers. His initial impression that she was rather shy had obviously been wrong. Of all the guests at the dinner, she looked as if talking with strangers was a joy, not an anxiety.

Although the man to her right tried to monopolize her attention, she managed to include several of the guests in their conversation. Michael thought both men on either side of her appeared to be a bit smitten. Not that Michael blamed them. She was like a painting. The first time you looked at her you saw a pleasant scene, but the longer you stared, the more beautiful she became.

She had a rather free-spirited look to her, with her long, straight blond hair and pale skin. Her eyes weren’t warm, yet there was something about them that begged for you to try to understand the woman behind them. She wore very little makeup compared to the woman he usually dated, but then she didn’t need any. Her skin was as smooth as the petals found on the flowers in Tessie’s garden.

Michael found himself staring at her and becoming more intrigued with each passing moment. Although there was steady conversation on his side of the table, he repeatedly found himself glancing across the table and meeting the blue eyes of Cassie, the artist. And every time he did, those eyes would regard him with a glint of amusement that made him think she knew exactly how uncomfortable he was sitting there.

Although there were moments when the conversation included all eight guests at the table, most of the talk was between people sitting next to each other. That, however, didn’t keep Michael from listening to what others said. He tuned in specifically to what Cassie was saying. She was a skillful conversationalist, saying very little about herself yet gleaning information from others. It only made him more curious about her.

Everything about her was graceful. From the way her head tilted ever so slightly on her beautiful, swanlike neck, to the manner with which she ate her escargots. He found himself wondering just what kind of art she did with those long, slender fingers. But more than that, he wondered why she was looking for love through a dating service.

As the appetizer plates were cleared away, he found himself wishing that it had been the main course they’d just finished, because the women would once more move over a chair and Cassie would be next to him. But during the main course, his pager buzzed. He realized it was eight o’clock. Tabitha was right on schedule.

Intrigued by the artist and wanting the opportunity to talk to her when she moved next to him, he didn’t call his assistant. When the last of the dinner plates had been taken away, Cassie announced that it was once again time to change places.

She took the chair next to Michael’s right and gave him the same furtive smile she’d cast his way when he’d ordered the Scotch. “So, Dr. Michael. You never did answer my question. What’s it like being an animal doctor?”

“It’s a challenge,” he answered honestly, noticing that she had a tiny dimple in one cheek that wasn’t noticeable until you were close to her. “And please, call me Mac.”

“And do you like challenges, Dr. Mac?” she asked provocatively.

“Yes. Aren’t they the spice of life?”

“No, that’s variety.”

“I like that, too,” he answered with an equally flirtatious grin. “And what about you? What’s it like being an artist?”

“It’s incredibly frustrating.”

“Really?”

She nodded. “Mmm-hmm. Perfection is never easy to achieve.”

“And you strive for perfection when you paint?”

“Oh, it’s not my work that is perfect. It’s my subjects. Trying to reproduce beauty is in many ways a challenge, too.”

“Then we have something in common, don’t we?”

“Professionally, anyway.”

“What about the personal Cassie? What does she like to do when she’s not meeting the frustrating challenges of capturing beauty?”

“My art is my life,” she answered with a candor that surprised him. He expected some flirtatious banter, but instead she was sincere. “That doesn’t mean I work twenty-four hours a day,” she was quick to add. “But I do tend to get so involved with a project that I lose track of time.”

“That sounds like a warning.”

She smiled, another furtive grin. “Now why would I need to warn you, Dr. Mac?”

“Maybe because you know that all evening I’ve been sitting here waiting for you to finally come sit in that chair.”

She lifted both brows in a provocative invitation. “I’m here.”

“Yes, and I’m glad.” He leaned closer to her so that only she would hear his next words. “I’ve always thought dessert was the best part of a meal.” She laughed, a wonderful, throaty sound that did funny things to Michael’s insides.

“Then we have something else in common, don’t we?” she said, and picked up her fork and cut into the slice of cheesecake.

“Oh, I think we might have a quite a few things in common,” he said.

“Such as?”

“A mutual love of nature.”

“And how do you know I love nature?”

“You do, don’t you?”

She smiled. “Yes, but doesn’t everyone?”

“Not the way you and I do. Others see rain and think it’s a nuisance. You and I don’t see rain. We smell it. We taste it. We hear it. We feel it.”

“Are you sure you’re a doctor and not a poet?” She reached for her water glass. Before she could raise it to her lips, he tapped it with his. “To challenge.”

She clinked her glass against his and smiled that provocative grin of hers. “To challenge.”

He couldn’t believe how well things were going. She again asked him about his work and he entertained her with anecdotes from the clinic. It was as if the other six people ceased to exist. All he wanted was to hear that luscious, sultry voice of hers and see that sly, flirtatious smile.

Then his pager buzzed again.

“Oh-oh. Looks like Dr. Mac in on call,” she remarked.

He pushed his sport coat aside and reached for the electronic device. It was his escape route. Only now he didn’t need or want a way out of the dinner.

“I think this thing is malfunctioning,” he told her, clicking the button that revealed Tabitha’s number. “I’m getting a scrambled message.”

“Do you need to check with your service?”

“No, it’s all right. I’m sure it was nothing.” But only a few minutes later the pager buzzed again. As he read Tabitha’s number, he wondered why she hadn’t given up? Surely she could figure out that if he hadn’t answered the pager, it meant he was having a good time and didn’t need to make his escape?

“You have to go, don’t you?” Cassie said, the disappointment in her voice making it all the more difficult to leave.

He wanted to ignore the page, but he also knew that it could very well be an emergency. In all good conscience, he couldn’t disregard any attempt that might be a call for help. Reluctantly he folded his napkin and laid it on the table.

“I’d better go check and make sure this isn’t something important. Don’t go away. I’ll be right back.”

Instead of going out to the car to use his cell phone, he used the pay phone in the lobby. He punched in the seven digits of Tabitha’s home phone number.

He knew she had caller ID when she said, “How come you’re calling from a pay phone?”

“Because I didn’t want to bring the cell phone into the restaurant.”

“Well, for someone who was itching to get out of dinner, it sure took you a long time to answer your page.”

He didn’t want to tell her that he’d met Cassie and was no longer in a hurry to make a hasty departure from the dinner.

“Mookie’s in labor and it doesn’t look good. I think she needs a cesarean.”

Mookie was Tabitha’s mother’s schnauzer. “You’ve seen her?”

“Mom brought her over here because she was acting strange. I put her in the basement and left her alone, but it’s obvious she’s having big troubles, Mac. You’d better hurry.”

“I’m on my way,” he told her, then hung up the phone. He hurried back to the private dining room and bent so that he could speak to Cassie.

“I have to go. It’s an emergency.”

“Another challenge?”

“Yes, but I’d much prefer the one right here,” he said softly. “I’d like to get to know Cassie the artist. Maybe we could do that when there weren’t so many people around?” He could see the curious glance of Sharon the nurse and didn’t doubt for a moment that she was straining to hear every word of their private conversation.

Coyly, Cassie answered, “You know the rules, Dr. Mac.”

“Call Claudia at Dinner Date,” he stated in understanding. “You can be sure I will.” Then he made a formal apology to the group and left.

As he drove the distance to Tabitha’s home, his thoughts were of Cassie the artist. First thing Monday morning he was going to call Dinner Date. He definitely wanted to get to know her better. And judging by the way she had smiled, she wanted the same thing. Oh, Tessie was going to be happy.

“CASSIE, IT’S CLAUDIA. If you’re there, pick up.”

Normally Cassandra Carrigan didn’t answer her phone when she was in her studio, but she’d been having difficulty concentrating on her work all morning and the call was a distraction she welcomed. She set her paintbrush aside and reached for the telephone.

“I’m here. What’s up?” she asked, dispensing with the routine hello. She and Claudia had been friends far too long to worry about greetings.

“You have to quit flirting. You’re way too good at your job. I still have men calling from dinners you worked months ago.”

“I don’t flirt,” she said, smiling to herself. “I’m friendly.”

Claudia made a sound of disbelief. “You flirt and the guys love it. That’s why I’m always delighted when you say you’ll work a dinner. Tell me about Saturday night.”

“It was an interesting group,” she answered, even though her thoughts for the past two days had focused on only one interesting man in that group. Dr. Mac, the veterinarian.

He didn’t look like a vet. More like a stockbroker. Clean-cut. Intelligent brow, strong, determined nose that looked as if it may have once been broken. Wonderful smile with straight, even teeth. But it was his eyes that had caught Cassie’s attention. They were round with just a fraction of white visible below the dark iris, which showed he possessed great sensitivity.

Which she was certain he used to his advantage. He had used his charm on her and even she, with all her practice, had nearly fallen for it. She had a feeling, however, that he was just another good-looking guy looking for an ornament to dangle from his arm. She’d met quite a few of them through the dating service.

“Sounds as if everyone had a good time,” Claudia remarked.

“So you should be happy I did my job well,” she pointed out. “It’s what you want me to do, isn’t it? Keep the conversation going?”

“Yes, it is, and I know you can’t help but be your usual charming self, but this time three of the four men from Saturday night requested another meeting with you.”

“Three?” That was unusual. Maybe one or, sometimes on the rare occasion, two would request another date with her, but three? “You did tell them I don’t share their interest, right?”

“Of course I did and two of them understood, but there was one who refused to take no for an answer. He says you told him you wanted to see him again.”

“Now that I know I didn’t do,” she answered honestly. “And you know I didn’t, either. The only reason I attend the dinners is because I enjoy dining out and being with people who are interesting.”

Claudia sighed. “I don’t know how you do it, Cassie.”

“Do what?”

“Meet so many good-looking men and not get the least bit interested in any of them.”

“It’s just a job, Claudia.”

“But aren’t you even the least bit curious to hear who it is that wants to get to know you better?”

She was. The memory of Dr. Mac, the veterinarian, smiling into her face and telling her he liked a challenge popped into her head. Part of her wanted it to be him, the other part didn’t.

“I’m not interested in dating anyone. You know that.”

“I do, but I keep thinking that one of these times you’ll forget that you’re doing a job and simply enjoy yourself.”

“I do enjoy myself,” she insisted.

“So do you want to know which client won’t stop asking about you?”

Cassie groaned. “All right. Tell me.”

“It’s Michael the veterinarian.”

At the mention of his name, she felt a tiny shiver travel up and down her spine. “Oh, it was Dr. Mac,” she said more to herself than to her friend.

“You don’t sound surprised.”

“Maybe I did go a bit overboard with the flirting, but not once did I say I wanted to see him again. I told him what I tell all the men I meet—that if he’s interested he should contact you.”

“He took that as a yes.”

Her heart fluttered at the thought. “Then you’re going to have to convince him that it’s a no.”

“I tried to, but I didn’t have much luck. What did you do to the guy?”

“Do? I didn’t do anything,” she answered. It would have been more accurate to say that he had done something to her. Ever since Saturday night he’d been occupying her thoughts far too much of the time, which was one of the reasons for her lack of concentration this morning. In the two years she’d worked for the dating service she hadn’t met anyone who’d had that effect on her.

“What part of no doesn’t he understand?” she asked a bit impatiently.

“It’s nothing to get upset about,” Claudia said in a soothing tone. “I said he was persistent, not obsessive.”

She relaxed a bit. “You’re right. We only used our first names so it’s not like he can track me down, is it? And you’ve done background checks on all your clients.”

“That’s right. I just wanted to check with you before I throw a bucket of water on his ardor. He was rather cute, wasn’t he?”

“I’m not sure ‘cute’ is the right word,” she said evasively. “‘Charming’ would have been a better adjective. He’s a player.”

“You think so?”

“Yes. I wonder why he was at the dinner. Players usually don’t need to use a dating service to find a companion.”

Claudia didn’t comment but asked, “Are you available for next Saturday?”

“Did he ask to attend another dinner with me?”

“Of course he asked, but you know I’d never do that. I wouldn’t do it to a client and I certainly wouldn’t do it to a friend.” There was indignation in her friend’s voice.

“I’m sorry, Claudia. I know you wouldn’t. Sure, I’m available next Saturday.”

They talked for another few minutes about matters totally unrelated to Dinner Date. By the time Cassie hung up the phone, she’d forgotten all about Dr. Mac.

Which was a good thing. The only reason she’d been able to accept the job with the dating service was because she truly could attend the dinners with a sense of detachment. She had no interest in meeting a suitable companion. No interest in dating. No interest in men.

A man like Dr. Mac had the potential of being able to change all of that. As she returned to her painting she was grateful that she’d never see him again.

“MOM! WHAT ARE YOU DOING HERE?” Michael asked when he stepped into examining room number four and saw Tessie sitting there.

“Cleo’s not well,” she answered, nodding toward the Abyssinian that sat curled up on her lap.

“She looks okay,” he observed, lifting the purring cat from her lap.

“Oh, but she’s not. She wouldn’t eat this morning,” she answered.

“Maybe she wasn’t hungry,” he said, placing Cleo on the examining table. “We all like to skip a meal now and then.”

“Speaking of meals…” Tessie took her place next to him and watched as he did a routine exam. “You didn’t call and let me know how the dinner went on Saturday.”

So that was the true reason for the visit to the clinic. “It was fine. Just as Cleo is fine now.”

“You’re sure?”

“About the dinner or Cleo?” he quipped.

She clicked her tongue. “I know you’re a good vet. If you say Cleo is fine, she’s fine. Did you enjoy yourself at the dinner?”

“As a matter of fact I did,” he answered, reaching for a cat treat.

He watched his mother’s eyes light up at the thought. She smiled smugly and said, “I knew you would.”

“They served the most wonderful coq au vin. You would have loved it. The mushroom sauce was exquisite, prepared just the way you like it. And they had those little baby carrots in a wine sauce and escargots…you know how much I like escargots.”

She fluttered her fingers nervously in midair. “I don’t care about the food. Tell me about the people. Did you meet anyone interesting?”

“There was a very nice engineer who’d worked on that new overpass on the interstate right outside of downtown, you know, the one that opened in April. He had some very interesting observations.”

Again her fingers flailed about in midair. “I don’t care about the men at the dinner, Michael. Tell me about the women.”

He shrugged. “There’s not much to tell. They were nice.”

She frowned. “Is that all you can find to say about them? They were nice?”

“Actually, there was one who was very nice.” His mouth automatically split into a grin at the memory of Cassie the artist.

“Nice enough that you might have dinner with her again?”

He’d been debating whether or not he should tell her about Cassie the artist. Now that the opportunity had arrived, he decided the less said the better. “No. It was a very nice evening and I thank you.”

“But what about the four women? They didn’t share your interests?”

Again he thought of Cassie. “Not exactly,” he hedged. “Did you ever think that maybe none of them were attracted to me?”

Tessie gasped. “That’s impossible! Look at you. You’re the complete package.”

He couldn’t help but smile again, this time at her maternal defense of him. “Not everyone sees me through your eyes, Mom.”

“I’m not just saying that because I’m your mother. Ask any of the Mums, they’ll say the same thing.” She shook her head in bemusement. “What is wrong with the youth of today? When a handsome young man like you has trouble getting a date…”

“I can find a date,” he assured her.

She dismissed his comment with a flap of her hand. “You don’t need to pretend with me. I know that you spend a lot of your free time alone.”

Guilt washed over him. He hadn’t been completely honest with Tessie over the years. He wasn’t often without female companionship, yet Tessie was unaware of his love life. He’d deliberately kept it that way, because he hadn’t wanted her getting attached to any of the women in his life, because he knew none of them would last.

“Mom, there are other places to meet women than through a dating service,” he said gently.

“I know that, dear, but I had hoped that my gift would be a lasting one,” she said on a sigh. “You’re thirty-five, Michael, and I’m eighty-one. Time is running out.”

He pulled her into his arms and gave her a hug. “Now you stop your worrying. We have plenty of time—both of us. Your birthday gift was unique and I haven’t given up on finding a special lady.”

She pushed him away. “You haven’t?”

“No. If there’s someone out there for me, I’ll find her. You know that.”

“You always have loved a challenge, haven’t you?” she said with a knowing grin.

Yes, he did, and he didn’t consider this one to be over yet.