One True Love?

“Why alone? Why can’t there be someone else?” he challenged.

Thoughts of her sister and all of her fiancés, and of her brother and his two—soon to be three—wives and her parents with all of their paramours came rushing to the forefront of her mind. “Because it’s not supposed to be like that,” she stated adamantly. “There’s not supposed to be scores of lovers in a person’s life. Maybe there are multiple relationships, some that work and others that don’t. But there is only one true love. The one that you’re meant to be with. The one that makes your world complete. Sometimes that love only lasts for a day. Sometimes people never find it. Sometimes they find it but they let their day-to-day worries mess it up. Sometimes it lasts forever. You never know how it’s going to end up. I’m lucky enough to have found my true love. If I’m not lucky enough to keep him…well, then I’ll just have to live with the consequences. But it wouldn’t be fair to anyone else who might want to be with me when I would know the whole time that they were just a substitute.”

“I think you’re wrong.”

“What do you know about love anyway?” she asked impatiently.

“I know plenty,” he said as he stared at the calm water. “I was engaged once.”

Matthew had been engaged? This was news to her. Most people who met him automatically came to the conclusion that he was single. It was because there was something very solitary about him. When Corinne defended him to their co-workers, which she often did, she called him an independent spirit. Her colleagues said she was simply being kind.

They believed he was odd. Too staid. Too regimented. Too private. He ate the same thing for lunch every day—a bologna and cheese sandwich and a green apple. He wore a tie and suit every day, even on dress-down days when everybody else wore jeans. He always had a tissue and a pencil on hand and ready to lend. The man was as predictable as the turning of the earth. The girls in the office joked that being married to Matthew would be like being married to one of the presidents on Mt. Rushmore. In other words, not too exciting. No, no one ever seemed to question why he was single. And everyone took it for granted that he always would be.

Only come to find out that he was engaged. To be married. “Who was she?” Despite her best efforts, Corinne couldn’t quite keep the incredulity from her voice.

“Her name was Debbie.”

Wow, he thought. It had been too long since he thought of her. There was a time when Matthew used to think about her every second and what his life would have been like had she lived. But time had passed. His heart had healed. The memories would always be precious, but they weren’t as keen as they used to be. And he had learned to love again.

“What happened?”

Corinne’s curiosity was like a hungry animal that simply had to be satisfied, Matthew knew. She wouldn’t stop until she had all the answers. “She died in a car accident two months before the wedding. Debbie was a schoolteacher, and there was a bad snowstorm and she wanted to make sure all the children got home safely, so she drove them herself rather than put them on the bus. They all got home, but she didn’t.”

It was tragic. A lump the size of a fist formed in her throat. “I’m so sorry.”

He shrugged and sat up to take the pressure off his elbows. “It was seven years ago. I miss her, but I’ve moved on. And I believe that she would want me to find someone else. Someone who I could love as deeply as I loved her. She was generous like that.”

The lump wasn’t going away. Around it, Corinne choked out, “She sounds wonderful.”

“She was. But after she was gone I never once thought that my life was over. I never believed that she was my only chance at happiness. Instead, I felt the opposite. I was reminded how dear life is and how I should always try to seize every moment. Somewhere along the way I forgot that lesson. I guess I’ve never been too good at seizing. It took a two-bit crook with a .38 Smith and Wesson and a craving for slushies to remind me.” Reactively, Matthew reached up to rub his heart where he could still feel the residual pain from the bullet that had just missed that vital organ.

The scar was invisible behind the white cotton T-shirt he wore. But Corinne knew it was there. Odd, because he didn’t seem like the type to be prudish about such things, but Matthew refused to let anyone see the mark that the bullet had left. He said it was a private matter between him and the man who put it there.

Corinne remembered that awful day as clearly as if it happened yesterday rather than several months ago. A police officer had shown up at the office with the news that Matthew had been shot during a holdup at a convenience store. Foolishly, Matthew had tried to talk the crook into putting his gun down, but the kid, doped up on PCP, had snapped and pulled the trigger. By the time Corinne got to the hospital, Matthew was nearly gone. The doctors said that although they had removed the bullet and closed the hole in his lung, he had lost so much blood in the process that they didn’t know if he would ever wake from the coma that he had fallen into.

Miraculously however, just two hours later while Corinne sat with him, telling him about the plot of her sister’s latest movie, Matthew had opened his eyes and smiled.

“I’m glad you didn’t die,” she blurted, abruptly returning to the present.

“Thanks. Me, too,” he returned. “I’ll never forget what you said to me in the hospital.”

Corinne struggled to recall what he might be referring to, but she often said so many memorable lines. It would be nearly impossible to remember each and every one. It was one of the advantages of scripting most of the major events in her life. She always mentally wrote herself great dialogue.

“You said, ‘Thank heavens, you’re awake. I’ve few enough real friends in this world and I would just as soon not lose one.”’

“It was true,” she reiterated.

“It was nice. It got me through, thinking that I had a friend like you who cared.”

Now it was starting to make sense, Corinne realized. That’s why he was here. It had nothing to do with a crush. It was out of some warped sense of gratitude that he felt for her because she was the only one who had come to visit him in the hospital.

Her vanity was somewhat offended. After all, chasing her down because he thought she was kindhearted wasn’t nearly as flattering as being chased down because he thought she was gorgeous and sexy.

In an easy manner she laid a hand on his arm and gave him her let-me-give-you-some advice expression. “You just need to open up a little more, Matthew. People don’t know you because you don’t let anyone inside.”

He never considered himself closed. He never thought about it one way or the other. He worked. He paid his bills. And he had his painting. By nature he liked solitude, but he didn’t think he ever intentionally cut people out of his life. Then again, he never went to a lot of trouble to include them either.

“You know me,” he reminded her.

And he knew why. It was because Corinne wasn’t the type of person to wait to be let inside. She was the type who disregarded any barrier that got in her way. Even his stoic silence. He remembered their first meeting vividly.

They’d begun with the growing software company at the same time to establish internal financial controls—him as the auditor and her as the financial controller. She had waltzed into his office, and he’d immediately felt as if he were in the presence of a star rather than a serious businesswoman who worked with numbers all day. Her flaming-red hair had been loose about her shoulders; she’d worn a yellow sundress that flowed over her body like water over land, and from her wrist had dangled five gold bangle bracelets that clinked about and made music while she spoke.

We’re both new which means we’re bound to be friends. I’ll meet you in the cafeteria for lunch. I prefer to eat around noon, low blood sugar and all of that, is that all right with you?

At the time, he recalled nodding, and then another gust of wind hit him in the face as she blew out of his office as dramatically as she had blown in to it. She’d left behind a lingering hint of her perfume and a hell of an impression.

They did eat lunch together that day. Mostly, Matthew sat and listened while she spoke about her plans for the company. He knew then that it was going to be his job to keep her in check. For whatever reason, that bologna and cheese sandwich and green apple had tasted better that day than it ever had before.

“Of course I know you,” Corinne said, snapping him back to the moment. “After all, we work together. And you can’t hide anything from me. Every thought you have is always written right there on your face. Come to think of it, you would make a lousy poker player. Be careful that you stay away from those tables when you go to the casino.”

“I’ll do that.”

“It’s not that I mean to be critical, Matthew. Truly, you are a wonderful man. And you deserve to have someone in your life. If you would behave more like a single man and less like a…like a…”

“Relic,” he supplied.

“Yes…you would be amazed at the women who would come knocking at your door.”

“But would any of them be you?” he muttered under his breath. Aloud, he said, “Thank you for the advice. Maybe I’ll try that.”

“Good,” she said, pleased with her apparent success. “So what are you going to do now?”

“I was thinking of taking a swim.”

“So you’re staying?”

“If I wouldn’t bother you.”

“See,” she pointed out. “That’s another one of your problems.”

“Another one?”

“You’re too accommodating.”

He thought he was just being polite. “But…”

She continued without interruption. “What difference does it make if I want you to stay or I want you to go? You probably paid just as much money as I did to get here therefore you have every right to enjoy your vacation. You shouldn’t let me tell you what you can do.”

“That’s true….”

“You’ve got to learn to take what you want out of life and stop letting other people dictate your actions,” she charged.

“Okay.”

“You have to speak up, Matthew. Learn to just barge right in there with your thoughts and your wants. Let people know you’re serious.”

And he would have, too, if she hadn’t kept rambling. After a few minutes he tuned her out, the point of her little speech having already been made. It wasn’t the first time he heard one of Rinny’s speeches, and he wasn’t the only one ever to receive them.

Often, he could hear Rinny inviting people into her office, giving them a pep talk along with their assignments. She would listen to their woes and then pick that person up off the floor again with her cheerleader-like attitude.

Just another thing to love about her was her good and generous heart. It was a shame that few people ever understood her generosity. Most people got lost in the act she portrayed. They believed her to be whatever she wanted them to. Many were convinced she was simply shallow and self-absorbed.

But Matthew knew differently. He’d known it the minute he’d wakened from his coma and found her on the other side of his bed with unshed tears in her eyes.

“You’ve got to be bold,” she continued. “You’ve got to be aggressive. And most important, you must always implement a course of action!”

Inwardly, he chuckled as her cheeks started to heat up and her eyes began to take on a new glow. She wanted him to implement a course of action, huh?

What if he reached over there and pulled her off that chair, ripped off that silly sarong she had tied around her waist—no doubt to hide what she considered unsightly curves that he considered womanly—and kissed her until she couldn’t see straight? That was a course of action he certainly wouldn’t mind implementing.

It would shock her. It was something she would never expect from him, but he did have that side to him. It was one of the few things that Debbie had never understood about him. She had hated to be taken by surprise. For that matter she hadn’t liked to be fondled much. She’d only made love with him after they became engaged, and then it had to be in a bed at night with lights out and her nightgown, if not on, at least close by. He’d loved her, so he respected her wishes. He had hoped that one day she would see that making love was about having fun and enjoying each other.

Making love with Rinny would be that. It would be that and a hundred other things as well. Intense. Hot. Exciting. Playful. He could see them together in his mind. A sudden surge of lust overwhelmed him and vaguely Matthew realized that the dunk he was planning in the ocean was suddenly becoming something necessary to cool his overheated libido.

“So I’m staying,” he told her, not too sure where she was in her speech but wanting to at least make that clear. “And I’m going for a swim. Coming?”

Corinne was breathing a little heavily. Perhaps her speech had gotten a little out of hand. The good news, though, was that he had listened to her and had taken her advice. He was doing what he wanted to do and that was stay. Since it was what she wanted him to do, too, things had really worked out for the best.

“No, you go ahead. I’m not a real big swimmer.”

This clearly confused him. “Why would you come to an island if you don’t swim?”

Haughtily, she answered, “That’s non-swimmer discrimination.”

“It is? I thought it was just a question.”

“Just because I can’t swim doesn’t mean that I should be denied the privilege of coming to an island. I like to look at the water. And maybe later, if I want to, I will sit by the pool, too.”

He simply shrugged. “Okay.”

“For now, however, it’s getting late. I think I’ll head back to my room.”

“So, I’ll meet you for dinner tonight. Around seven in the Pirate’s Cove,” he stated rather than asked. How was that for being aggressive and telling her what he wanted? Whether it worked or not remained to be seen.

He studied her face for a moment, and her expression was priceless. First, there was a little surprise at his forwardness, then a little outrage, then finally the realization that he had done exactly what she had instructed him to do. She was probably mentally congratulating herself on her success.

“Are you asking me to dinner?”

“I don’t think I’m asking,” he replied boldly.

She squinted her eyes at him, but then after a beat nodded her head. “Yes, I suppose I can meet you at the bar.”

Corinne packed up her things and headed back up the beach. Matthew gladly watched the graceful movement of her hips as she sashayed her way to the hotel. Only the stupid sarong that she had wrapped around her waist prevented him from getting the full view. That was her sister’s doing, he thought. Just because Myra was reed-thin, Rinny thought she had to hide the fact that she wasn’t.

“You know, Rinny,” he called out to her impetuously. “Your hips aren’t all that big. You really don’t need to cover them up with that sheet thing.”

That being said, everyone within earshot immediately turned to stare at Rinny. And her hips.

Stiltedly, Corinne turned and shot death rays at him with her eyes. So powerful were they, he was relatively sure she would have killed him had she been a super-hero. Turning away from him, her chin held high, she removed the sarong, as if to show her viewing public that she had nothing to be ashamed of, which she didn’t, and stormed off. His Rinny always knew how to make an exit.

MATTHEW PLUNGED through the water and the gentle waves, finally diving beneath the surface of the clear ocean. When he came up he tried a few strokes, but instantly his lung started to hitch and his arm stiffened up. The one thing they never showed in the movies or on TV was how long it took to recover from a bullet wound. Most heroes just slapped a bandage on it and off they went. Here he was several months later, and he still wasn’t up to snuff.

Don’t regret getting shot, Matthew told himself as this time he took on the water a little more slowly. In retrospect it was the best thing that ever happened to him. If he hadn’t gotten shot, he might never have woken up to the fact that time was passing, and he and Rinny weren’t getting any younger.

After all, he was sure she wanted to have children. She talked about having them with the Golden Boy, although he couldn’t imagine him being anything more than an absentee father. Golden Boy was too self-absorbed for children. But Rinny would be an excellent mother, of that he was sure.

Yep, it was time for them to get started with their life together. All he had to do was convince her that she didn’t love Golden Boy and that she did love him. Not an easy task, but not an impossible one. What had she said earlier, something about needing a course of action?

She was right.

He could always tell her how he felt about her. But after her speech about needing to open up to people, he had the sneaking suspicion that she had reduced his feelings for her to a minor crush, one rooted in the fact that she had been there for him. If he declared his love now, she might mistake it for misguided gratitude.

No, in this case, honesty was not going to be the best policy. Lousy poker face or not, he was going to have to give it his all to try and hide his true feelings for her. At least until he was sure that she could accept them for what they were.

There was always the friendship angle, but he’d played that card since the day he met her and all it had gotten him so far was her, well…continuing friendship.

Maybe he should tell her about Brendan and what a scoundrel he was and how Marjorie from human resources wasn’t the first woman to make his eyes wander. No, any attack on Golden Boy would only lead to her leaping to his defense. Matthew wasn’t up for another round of the poor-misguided-insecure-Brendan soliloquy.

So what was left to him?

Matthew flipped onto his back and began to back stroke. The sky was a shade of blue that he couldn’t quite label, but knew that when he got back to his condo in New Jersey, he would try to replicate it with his paints. He had no doubt he would fail. It wasn’t that he was a pessimist. Just bad with colors. Not to mention he wasn’t a very good painter. It was simply the process and its contrast to working with numbers all day that pleased him.

Then it clicked. The process. That was his course of action. He had to stop thinking about the end result and concentrate on the process. The end result was love and happily ever after. It was the ending that most people hoped for any time they began a relationship. But the process was the wooing. The dating. The flowers. The dinners. And the sex.

If Matthew couldn’t get Rinny to fall in love with him, maybe he could get her to have an affair with him. Technically, she had broken up with Golden Boy, so she couldn’t cry infidelity as an excuse. Then there was the added element of them being outside their normal realms on this island. Away from the office, their friends, anyone who knew them, they could be anybody they wanted to be.

It would be tricky. He would have to convince her that it would strictly be a two-week gig. No regrets or recriminations when it was over and they were back in the office. Of course, if he had his way there would be no “over.”

Instead, there would be happily ever after and a nice house and babies and…Rinny.

It wasn’t going to be easy. Pulling this off meant that he would have to be sneaky and manipulative. Two things he utterly failed at. But this particular poker game was for the jackpot. And he didn’t plan on losing.

A vacation fling. It just might work.

3

TO TIE OR not to tie. That was the real question. Matthew was dressed in a pair of gray slacks to which he dared to add a soft-blue oxford shirt with a white collar. It wasn’t his normal style. He preferred plain white. What with his lack of talent for color, it made it much easier to match his ties with his shirts.

However, fashion seemed to be important to Rinny. Or maybe not fashion so much as style. She was forever commenting on his absence of it. She’d given him this shirt as a Christmas gift last year so he had to assume it would meet with her approval. And there was the added fact that he simply wanted to wear it for her.

Besides, these were the islands. It was time to cut loose and live on the wild side.

He had gone so far as to roll the sleeves up to his elbows as a bow to the heat, but leaving it unbuttoned at the neck just didn’t feel right to him. Again, he held the tie up against his chest. It was red. No doubt Corinne would have assigned some fancy name to the color, like vermilion or some such nonsense, but to Matthew it was just red. And red went with blue, didn’t it? Oh well, it couldn’t be that bad. Lifting his collar up, he secured the tie about his throat and tightened it. Then he tugged at it a bit, pulling it away from his neck ever so slightly.

Already, he felt a little wilder.

DECISIONS, decisions. Corinne stared at the five dresses she had laid out on the bed and contemplated each one as her potential dinner ensemble. One was too sexy, the other too loud. One was too girly and the other too prim. Number five it was. Really it was a combination of the four other problems, but to a lesser degree, so she figured she was safe. Slipping on a pair of panties, she stepped into the island dress.

It was a mesh of bright reds, yellows, whites and greens with huge blooming flowers all over it. As soon as she’d spotted it in the gift shop she’d known she had to have it. It tied about her neck leaving her shoulders bare. The flimsy island material overlapped, concealing her shape for the most part, but when she walked the material separated granting anyone watching the pleasure of a quick glimpse of thigh. A pair of three-inch strappy heels to give the effect of height, if not the reality of it, and she was ready for her date.

Evening, Corinne corrected. This was not a date.

Because it wasn’t a date, she had no reason to want to impress Matthew with her new ensemble. Not at all. On the contrary she was going to have to be very careful not to flirt with him or smile too much. There was no reason to encourage his current crush regardless of its seemingly harmless origin.

But Corinne never went anywhere not properly dressed, and this evening would be no exception. She snapped up her matching red clutch purse and winced. The dress had been an indulgence, but the purse had been gluttony. She could almost feel the little pang of shock she was going to receive when she opened her credit card bill next month.

It always amused her when people assumed she was rich just because of her last name. Corinne would proudly point out that she had never taken a penny from her family. Instead she worked hard and invested well so that she was able to indulge herself every once in a while. Hell, if it weren’t for her investments her family would be in debt up to their eyebrows.

Weatherbys know acting; Weatherbys don’t know money, her mother would often quote. So it was left to Corinne to keep her family’s fortune growing. Left to their own devices they would either squander their millions away or have it stolen by a corrupt accountant.

Not that they would care, Corinne thought sentimentally. Her family wasn’t in show biz for the wealth. It was the attention they craved. The adoring fans, the boisterous crowds and the heat of the camera lights. The money was nothing more than a pleasant perk.

Not so for Corinne. Like everyone else who worked full-time, she needed money to live. She glanced at the perfect handbag that matched absolutely the vibrant red of her sandals. The purse was going to hurt. But the pain was worth it. And this was a vacation.

Tossing a scarf about her neck—a scarf she refused to acknowledge because it made the cost of the purse seem inconsequential—she left her room and headed downstairs to greet her nondate.

MATTHEW GLANCED at his watch again. He’d said he would meet her at seven. It was fifteen minutes after, so he figured he had another five minutes to wait. Had this been a business meeting she would have been downstairs at seven on the dot. She was obsessively punctual when it came to business.