The Secret Mistress Arrangement

“How about you let me take you to dinner tomorrow night? I’ll take the presents back to Brian’s after and save you a trip.”

“Dinner?” Had she heard him correctly?

“Dinner.”

She was still confused and obviously looked it.

“You know, that meal people eat late in the day? Come on,” he coaxed, “you did a fantastic job with this wedding. Let me take you out to celebrate.”

Where had this come from? “Um, okay…” Realizing she sounded reluctant, she stopped and slapped a smile on her face. “I mean, that sounds great.”

“All right, then. Seven o’clock?”

She nodded, sensible words still escaping her.

“Is Salvador’s okay with you? I haven’t been there in ages.”

Salvador’s was a swanky place close to the South Pond, frequented by the young, beautiful and terminally hip crowd. Ella rarely went there, as she considered herself completely unhip. But the food was great, and if anyone would fit in with the crowd there, it would be Matt. Finally she managed another nod. Great, he’s going to think I’m a bobble-head doll.

“I’ll pick you up at seven.”

“Okay.”

With a smile and a small wave, Matt disappeared into the crowd. Without him to clear the path, Ella had to fight her way to Melanie. Her mind spun. Matt Jacobs wanted to take her out to dinner? Why? She could understand if he didn’t know anyone else in Chicago, but he’d grown up here. His friends and family were here—many of them in this very room. Surely there were plenty of people for him to go out with. So why her?

Confusion, though, couldn’t outrun vanity. To go to Salvador’s with a piece of eye candy like Matt wasn’t an opportunity that came her way every day. Since she was leaving Chicago next week anyway, it wasn’t an opportunity likely to ever happen again.

What on earth would she wear?

She shook her head at her own silliness and continued to fight her way out of the mob.

Melanie was looking for her and pulled her into a tight hug as soon as she made it to her side. “Thank you so much for everything.” Her voice caught, and her eyes misted.

“Don’t you dare start crying,” Ella pleaded as her eyes began to burn. “Your mascara will run.”

“Screw my mascara. Everything has been so perfect today, and I—” Her voice broke this time, and Melanie paused for a deep breath. “I can’t stand it that you won’t be here when I get back. I’m so worried about you being all the way down south without anyone at all.” Melanie managed a short laugh through her tears. “Heck, I’m worried about me—who will I talk to?”

“There’s this wonderful invention called the telephone, you know.” A sniff escaped, and Ella fought to keep herself together. “Anyway, I’ll be back to see you at Thanksgiving. And Christmas. And every other minor holiday, too.” Ella knew she was seconds from bawling her eyes out. “We’ve covered all this already.”

“I know. I’m just going to miss you so much.” Mel drew in a deep shuddering breath. “I love you, El.”

“I love you, too. Now, go. Everyone’s waiting for you to toss the bouquet.”

“I want you to be the one who catches it. It’s time for you to settle down now. Enough of this messing around. Promise me you’ll catch it.”

“I’ll try,” she lied.

Melanie stood on the steps leading out of the hall and turned her back to the crowd. As soon as she did, Ella stepped out of the mosh pit of single women jockeying for position and tried to slip to the sidelines, out of the way.

“One, two, three!” the crowd chanted, and Melanie heaved the bouquet over her shoulder.

But she threw it too high. Instead of flying directly into the waiting crowd, it caught one of the ceiling fan blades and was thrown off course, slicing neatly to the right, away from the mob. Ella looked up in time to see the bouquet headed straight for her. Reflexively, she caught it before it hit her smack in the face. The crowd cheered, and Melanie applauded before she was whisked away into the waiting limo, leaving Ella to face the aftermath alone.

Damn, she thought, as her taxi stood idling where the limo had recently been. So much for early exits. She spent the next hour receiving congratulations and predictions about the lucky groom-to-be. To add insult to injury, that worthless Jason caught the garter, and she was forced to pose with him for photo after humiliating photo. More than once she saw Matt watching her, an amused smile playing around his mouth.

By the time she got home, she was too tired to do more than slide out of her bridesmaid’s dress, leaving it in a puddle of navy silk on the floor, and fall headfirst into bed. Her last thought before exhaustion claimed her was that she still had no idea what she would wear the following night.

CHAPTER TWO

THE doorbell rang promptly at seven, and Ella wasn’t ready. Between sleeping most of the day away and the fact her apartment was complete chaos, the simple act of getting dressed for dinner had taken on farcical properties.

Forced to choose between leaving Matt standing on the front steps or answering the door half-dressed, she padded down the stairs to the door, cinching her robe tightly closed as she went.

“Hi, Matt.”

Whatever he was about to say in greeting died as his gaze swept her from head to toe, taking in her state of undress. Was it her imagination, or did his eyes seem to linger overly long on her legs, exposed by the thigh-length robe? He cleared his throat and looked at her quizzically. “Um, am I early?”

“No,” she said, suddenly very aware of how little she was actually wearing. “I’m running late. Just give me a couple of minutes, though, and I’ll be ready to go. Would you like to come up?”

It was a ridiculous question, as there was no place else for him to wait. While the entry was street level, her apartment was on the second floor of the brownstone. Short of having him sit on the steps, she had to invite him up.

At his nod, she led him up the stairs, belatedly realizing that the shortness of her robe was most likely offering him an unobstructed view of her bottom. She could feel the heat rushing to her cheeks. Probably both sets were blushing. Inwardly she groaned. This evening was already off to a bad start.

“Would you like a glass of wine or something?” He declined, so she continued. “Sorry the place is such a wreck. Between the wedding and the packing, everything is upside down. Try to make yourself comfortable, if you can, and I’ll be ready in a minute.” She offered him a half smile and disappeared through one of the doors leading off the living room, leaving it slightly ajar.

Matt tried to compose himself. He’d been knocked off guard when she’d opened the door, and was still recovering from the sight of Ella in that robe. The thin fabric had outlined every curve, clinging to the swell of her breasts. The tightly cinched belt emphasized her tiny waist and the flare of her hips. His eyes had avidly traveled down to the hem that skimmed the top of the most amazing legs he’d ever seen. Firm thighs, muscular calves and ridiculously trim ankles had him thinking that perhaps he was a Leg Man after all. But he changed his mind when she led him up the stairs and he’d been treated to a view of a beautifully shaped derrière clothed only in a thong. He’d been very glad when she left the room, giving him a chance to regain a sense of composure before he made an complete fool of himself.

He still wasn’t completely sure what he was even doing at Ella’s apartment. The invitation to take her to dinner had popped out of his mouth just seconds after it had popped into his head. It seemed perfectly natural at the time: dance with the pretty woman, flirt with the pretty woman, ask the pretty woman to dinner. He’d been as surprised by her answer as she’d been at his question. But he had to admit Ella intrigued him. From drill sergeant to blushing bridesmaid to half-naked temptress, she was quite the puzzle.

A puzzle with one hell of a nice behind, though.

Drawing a deep breath, he looked around the room, trying to pry his mind away from the image of a half-naked Ella in the next room. Empty boxes were piled in every corner, while full boxes marked with either an E or an M were neatly stacked against the far wall. Ella hadn’t been kidding when she called the place a wreck.

“Are you both moving out?” he called into the next room.

“Yeah, it’s crazy, isn’t it? With the wedding and everything, we’re a bit behind on the packing. It’s frustrating, but now that the wedding’s done, I should be able to get something accomplished.” She laughed. “I’d better, because the moving truck will be here on Friday.”

“Where are you moving to?” He could hear her in her bedroom—shuffling noises mostly, with the occasional muttered curse as she either dropped or tripped over something.

“Sweet home Alabama. Specifically, Fort Morgan, where I grew up. It’s down on the Gulf Coast, about three hours east of New Orleans.”

“So you are a Southern girl. I knew I heard a drawl.”

“I know. Even after ten years, people know I’m not from around here the second I open my mouth. It catches them off guard, and it’s kinda funny to see them react.”

He heard a muffled thump, followed by another string of muttering. “Take your time. There’s no hurry. Why are you going back to Alabama?”

“I’ve accepted a job with a company in Pensacola, actually, and it’s just across the state line. It’s an easy commute, and I can still live on the beach.”

Unable to sit calmly, thanks to a raging erection, he wandered around the room, taking in the framed prints and canvases on the walls, hoping to distract himself. Ella, or maybe it was Melanie, had good taste in art. Nothing so mainstream as to be a cliché, but nothing too out there, either. Everything was edgy enough to be interesting, and the pieces made a tasteful and eye-catching collection.

Leaning against the wall, obviously demoted from wall space, based on the dust on their glass, were Melanie’s and Ella’s college degrees. Curious, he pulled Ella’s out for a look.

There was a BS from Northwestern, and a master’s from the University of Chicago, both in computer science and both awarded to Ella Augustine Mackenzie. Augustine? Heck of a name to be saddled with.

Computer science. That seemed a bit odd, because Ella didn’t really strike him as a computer geek. He looked around for evidence to the contrary. A table in the corner held a laptop, but it looked like any other laptop—nothing fancy or complicated. People who spent that amount of time in college studying CS didn’t flip burgers, that’s for sure, but Ella just didn’t fit the usual mental picture.

Drill sergeant, wedding planner and now computer geek. Ella was full of surprises.

Chuckling as another loud thump—followed by a muffled curse this time—echoed from the next room, Matt wandered over to the bookshelf where Mel and Ella had a collection of framed pictures. There were snapshots of Brian and Mel on the beach somewhere, as well as a more formal pose he recognized as their engagement photo. There were many pictures of college-age Mel and Ella—group shots at parties, one of the two of them in front of a Christmas tree and another of them dressed to go to some kind of formal dance. He found family pictures of Mel and her brothers and parents. Ella was in most of the casual shots of Christmas and birthdays. He finally noticed a picture of a teenage Ella, braces and all, posed with an older couple to whom she bore a slight resemblance.

“Those are my grandparents.”

Matt jumped as she spoke from directly behind him. He turned and lost the ability to speak. His mouth went dry, and he swallowed hard at the sight. The robe was gone, replaced by a dark-blue dress that skimmed over the curves of her body. Her shoulders and neck were bare, but she carried a sparkly wrap in one hand. The short dress and high heels only accentuated the incredible legs he’d seen earlier. All those remarkably erotic thoughts he had worked to cast out of his head returned full force.

Ella seemed completely unaware of his reaction to her as she leaned in to take the photo he still held in his hand. As she moved close to him, he caught a whiff of the perfume she wore—a light, but slightly musky, scent—and the erection he had only recently gotten under control began to stir to life again.

“I was sixteen when that picture was taken. My really bad hair aside, it’s one of my favorite photos of us.”

Matt struggled for something intelligent he could say as he tried to get the blood flowing back to his other head. He settled for, “Do they still live in Alabama?”

“No.” Ella shook her head. “Gran died when I was in high school, and Gramps passed about five years ago.” She smiled at the people in the picture fondly.

“And your parents? Are they still down there?”

“My parents both died when I was very young. My grandparents raised me.” She didn’t sound sad, only resigned, like someone who’d come to terms with the loss long ago.

Belatedly he remembered Melanie mentioning that to him before. Unable to think of anything less lame to say, he settled on, “I’m sorry.”

She nodded and placed the picture back on the shelf where he’d found it. “Are you ready?”

“Ready.” He cleared his throat. “You look fantastic, by the way.” He was pleased to see that his ability to talk sensibly was coming back. “Well worth the wait.”

Salvador’s was still the place to see and be seen, and Ella got more than one envious glance from the other women there. Matt just seemed to attract stares from beautiful women, but, to his credit, he did nothing more than return an uncommitted smile. He proved early on he was more than just arm candy and a nice guy: he was a charming and fun date, as well. Their table had an amazing view, situated so neither of them had a back to the window. The chairs were close enough to each other to create an intimate feel while still giving them room to eat.

They ate ridiculously fattening food and talked easily about the wedding and people they both knew. It was, she realized, the best “date” she’d been on in a very long while. And it had been a long while, indeed. She and Stephen had parted ways over six months ago in the ugliest way imaginable. It had been a new low—even for her. But then the wedding plans kicked into high gear and the job from SoftWerx came through, leaving her with little time to think about anything else, much less men.

Just enjoy this for what it is.

As they sat finishing their wine, Matt asked her, “How did a girl from Alabama end up in Chicago? I thought Southerners were allergic to snow.”

“We are.” She laughed and swirled her wine in her glass. “First you have to understand something about kids who grow up in lower Alabama. Their entire teenage years are preoccupied with one thing—getting the hell out of Alabama. I wasn’t any different. So when Northwestern offered me a track scholarship, I jumped on it and moved up here.”

“That explains those amazing legs of yours.”

Ella blushed at the unexpected compliment. He thinks my legs are amazing. She self-consciously uncrossed and recrossed her legs under the table. When she did, she accidentally slid one leg against his. He didn’t move, so she simply enjoyed the pressure of his leg against hers as she sipped her wine.

“Are you fast?”

“What?” She choked on her wine and moved her leg away from his quickly, bumping the table hard as she did. Glassware rattled.

“On the track. Are you still fast?”

Oh, she thought, relieved. “I never was really fast. I ran cross-country. I’m a bit out of shape now, but I do still run for fun.”

“Ah, stamina instead of speed. That’s a good thing.”

Was he flirting? That kind of put a new twist on the evening if he was. Her flirting skills were a bit rusty these days…

“Did you meet Melanie at Northwestern?”

The change in subject jarred a little, but she welcomed it. “We were roommates our freshman year. We lived together all through undergraduate school, then got an apartment together.”

“You two are an unusual pair. You’ve got kind of a yin and yang thing going.”

That caused her to laugh. “I’ve never heard it put quite that way before. But, yeah, we make a good team. Things were rough at the beginning, though. Melanie was out all night majoring in boys and beer, and I had to be up early for track practice. Unfortunately—or in our case, fortunately—University Housing didn’t allow for room switching until a few weeks into the semester. By then we’d worked it out. I guess we’ve rubbed off a bit on each other over the years—filling in the holes, so to speak. It’s going to be really tough to get used to not having her around all the time.”

“Why move home now?” He relaxed back in his chair and casually draped an arm across the back of hers as he asked. The closeness of his body put hers on high alert, and she felt the fine hairs on the back of her neck rise to attention.

Just focus on the conversation. “Nine Chicago winters too many. Anyway, after spending all those years wanting to get out of Alabama, it didn’t take all that long for me to realize how much I missed it. With Mel getting married and moving out anyway, the job offer seemed like fate or something. Moving while she’s on her honeymoon keeps the goodbyes from being all weepy.”

Matt offered her the last of the wine, and she held out her glass. Full of good food and enjoying both the view and the company, she wasn’t in any hurry for dinner to end. He didn’t seem in a rush, either, so she relaxed back in her chair, enjoying the slight weight of his arm against her.

“So what do you do with those degrees in computer science, Ella Augustine Mackenzie?”

The shock of hearing her middle name nearly caused her to choke on her wine again. Then she remembered pulling her degrees out from storage under the couch last week for packing and leaning them against the wall. He must have seen them earlier. “Hey, Augustine’s a family name.”

Matt snorted.

“What’s your middle name, hotshot?”

“Matthew.”

“Oh.” So much for that witty retort. “What’s your first name, then?”

“William.” A smug smile twitched at the corners of his mouth.

“Lucky you. Well, William Matthew Jacobs, until two weeks ago, I was a software designer. Two weeks from now, I’ll be the design team head at SoftWerx.”

Matt let out an impressed whistle. “I’ve heard of them. Congratulations.”

Pride bubbled up inside her. She’d been so caught up in the wedding, she hadn’t had time to fully adjust to the idea of her success. “Your turn. How’d you end up in Atlanta?”

Matt sipped at his wine and signaled the server for the check. “Strictly business. I, too, went to college out of state—Ohio State, actually—but for different reasons than you. Did Melanie tell you I have five brothers?”

“Actually I’ve heard quite a bit about the Jacobs six-pack. I’ve even met a few.”

“There you have it. I was tired of being ‘that youngest Jacobs boy.’ All five of my brothers stayed around here, so I had to be different and go out of state. I ended up at Penn for law school and got in with a local firm. They opened a new office in Atlanta two years later, and I was sent there.” He shrugged as if his job was nothing—the law equivalent of flipping burgers at McDonald’s. Something about the way he carried himself, though, made her think otherwise.

“What kind of law do you practice?”

“Mainly entertainment. I take care of a lot of the contracts for most of the major venues in town. A few local celebs keep us on retainer, as well.”

“Anybody interesting?”

“Couldn’t tell you even if I wanted to,” he teased her.

“Do you like Atlanta? I haven’t been there in years.”

“I love it.” His hand came to rest on Ella’s shoulder. Rusty or not at the flirting thing, as his thumb slid lightly over her skin, even she could recognize he was flirting with her. She shivered at the sensation as all her blood seemed to rush to her skin. Focusing on the conversation took on a whole new level of difficulty. “All the excitement of Chicago without all the snow,” he continued, and it took her a second to remember what they were talking about. “In fact, I’ve gotten a bit thin-blooded in the past few years, and I try to avoid coming up here at all in the winter.”

She pulled herself together with a deep breath. “That must make coming home for Christmas a bit difficult.”

“I don’t think anyone notices when I don’t make it.”

“I don’t believe that for a second.”

“Seriously, we are the Catholic family cliché. You think Brian’s family is bad? Mine’s worse.”

“I think Brian’s family is nice—a little loud when they’re all together, but…”

“Brian’s got nothing on my family when it comes to loud. My mom and dad have nine brothers and sisters, so I have, let’s see, um, twenty-two—no, twenty-three—first cousins. All my brothers are married and have two or three kids apiece. There’s at least fifty people at my mom’s house on any given holiday. That is the definition of loud.”

She was such a sucker for the idea of a big family gathering—noisy or not. How could he be so blasé about it? “I’m sure they take note of who’s there.”

“Well, my brothers and I look a lot alike, so short of actually calling roll…” He sighed. “Do you have siblings?”

“No, it was just me and my grandparents.”

“Consider yourself lucky. Everyone was at the house today, and it was an absolute zoo. It’s enough to drive a man crazy. I used to dream of being an only child. Sometimes I still do.” Matt was the picture of the aggrieved youngest child, and Ella sipped at the last of her wine to stifle a laugh.

“And I used to dream about being in a big family. I mean, Mel’s family has adopted me, for all intents and purposes, but it’s not quite the same thing. I guess everyone wants what they don’t have.”

“Usually I’d say you were right. Especially after a day like today.”

This time she did laugh. She couldn’t help it. “Mel’s told me about your mother. I can’t imagine she’s too happy with the lack of grandchildren from you.”

“I hear it all the time. Someday I’ll see what I can do about that. Right now it’s not really an option.”

Ella wondered about that statement as Matt moved away from her in order to pay. The light teasing tone that had marked their entire evening evaporated once they started talking about his family. Mel hadn’t mentioned any rifts in the family—not beyond the norm, at least. Maybe he was just touchy about the whole get-married-and-have-kids thing. She could relate to that.

With Matt’s arm gone, she missed the warmth that emanated from him. Although the restaurant temperature was comfortable, she shivered as the heat dissipated. Matt noticed.

“Do you need my jacket?” He was already lifting it off the back of his chair and holding it out to her.

“Your mama must have raised you right. Or else Southern manners have rubbed off on you.”

“I will pass the compliment along to Mom.” He continued to hold the jacket out to her.

“No, but thanks. I’m fine.” She wrapped her shawl around her shoulders as Matt shrugged into his jacket.

But as they left the restaurant, the intimacy they shared also seemed to be left behind, because Matt didn’t flirt with her at all on the way back to her apartment.

Even though it made the situation more complicated, she was more disappointed by that than she cared to admit.

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