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“Workaholic?”
Marie sipped her smooth, rich coffee—more stalling while she chose her words. “She needs someone to remind her how to have fun.”
He eyed her with amusement over his mug. “And I strike you as the type who knows how to have fun.”
“Yup.” She spoke cheerfully, deliberately avoiding the sexy tone he seemed conditioned to set. “Plus you match her in looks. And style. And grace. And athleticism.”
“That’s quite a list of compliments.” He paused while the waiter set their food down and asked the obligatory will-there-be-anything-else question. “What’s her issue with relationships?”
Damn. He was no dummy. “What do you mean?”
“Everyone has an issue. Baggage. Whatever you want to call it. Especially at our age.”
Marie gritted her teeth. She’d put him five years older than she was. “Darcy’s younger.”
“How much younger?”
“Thirty-two.”
“That’s plenty old enough.”
“Right.” Anything over eighteen. She stared down at the enormous sandwich, golden-crusted chicken plump under fragrant caramelized onions, wanting to pour her coffee over his head, and furious with herself for the impulse. She was trying to match him up with a younger woman, why was she angry with him? Of course she wasn’t. She was angry with Grant.
She had to get over this.
“Marie.” He leaned into her field of vision. “I meant thirty-two is old enough to have issues.”
Marie jerked her head up, mortified. He’d realized not only that she was upset, but why? As a therapist she was trained to be inscrutable. Obviously she’d slipped. “Yes…no, I under-134
stood. And yes, Darcy had some difficulties in her past. For one, she grew up in a grim family situation.”
A frown wrinkled his forehead. “Abuse?”
“No, but her parents had a toxic marriage and she’s had a pretty unsuccessful romantic history, too. She’s kind of sour on the whole deal.”
“Understandable.”
“That
is,
she thinks she is.” Marie picked up her sandwich.
“My theory is that she’s just afraid, and that a strong, patient man can turn her around.”
His eyebrow went up. “You think I’m patient?”
“I know you are.” She wiped her mouth with a napkin; the sandwich was as messy and delicious as it looked. “I’ve seen your work.”
“My work! So now I’m an artist. A pick-up artist?”
“I didn’t say that.” She held back a triumphant grin when he mumbled skeptically. “Darcy’s my friend. I wouldn’t want to introduce her to you if I didn’t think you were…”
“Worthy?”
She swallowed an odd thickness in her throat. “A good man.”
“Thank you.” As before, he accepted the compliment calmly, neither arrogant nor dismissive, but with a touch of amusement that made her rush on.
“A good man possibly soured on the whole deal, too.”
“I wouldn’t say that.” He picked up a fry and ate it thoughtfully. “I haven’t given up on getting married again. But it’s not an immediate goal, and I won’t settle just to get hooked up. I’m willing to wait. And yes, Marie, I want to play a little in the meantime.”
“Understood. I’m not judging.” Married again. He had committed once. Better and better. “You don’t want kids.”
“Not unless she comes with them.”
“She doesn’t.” Darcy couldn’t stomach the idea of giving up her career, and with the horrendous hours she worked, she didn’t think she’d be much of a mother.
“Why are you so concerned with matching her up, Marie?”
“Because deep down it’s what she wants, but she won’t let herself admit it. I made a New Year’s resolution to help her and two other single friends this year.”
“Why?”
She put her sandwich down, considering how to answer. “I want people to live fully and richly, to be honest with themselves about who they are and what they need and want. These are three terrific women with a lot to offer the right men. They just need nudging when the time is right.”
