“Gee, thanks.”
“And guys like Mick Riley only come around once in a lifetime. If ever,” Karie added, flipping her dark ponytail over her shoulder.
“And no one says you have to marry the guy. But come on, Tara. Why wouldn’t you go out with him?” Maggie asked.
For one reason only. One very good reason.
FOUR
MICK HADN’T BECOME THE NFL’S LEADING QUARTERBACK by lying back and playing dead. He stayed in the pocket no matter the pressure on him, and he got pass completions, both on the field and off. If that meant he had to take some heat to get the job done, that’s just what he’d do.
So he waited until Tara left her office on Monday, then strolled in, knowing the women there might be his best offensive line.
The cute redhead hurried over. “Mick Riley.”
He held out his hand. “Yes, ma’am. And you are?”
She pushed her glasses up the bridge of her nose while shaking his hand. “I’m Maggie, Tara’s assistant. And this is Ellen and Karie.”
“Hi, ladies.” He shook their hands, too, his confidence growing after seeing their wide grins. Great. That meant at least one of them might be willing to help him out.
“I’m sorry, but you missed Tara,” Maggie said. “She just left for an appointment.”
“Actually, I was hoping you would help me. Tara thinks it’s not a good idea for us to see each other, and I think it is.”
“Oh. I see.” Maggie all but smirked in triumph. “Well, Tara doesn’t always make the best decisions.”
“So I was hoping maybe you could help me.”
The three women’s eyes all but sparkled.
Women made the best matchmakers, especially if it involved one of their friends.
“What can we do to help you?” Maggie asked, looking for all the world like Cinderella’s fairy godmother.
Score!
TARA WAS THRILLED AT THE POSSIBILITY OF ANOTHER new client, even though that meant she’d be working her butt off all weekend. Thank God it was a free weekend for her, otherwise it would be a nightmare. If Nathan didn’t already have plans for the weekend, she’d be in a bind, though he was usually busy on the weekends anyway these days. Still, she didn’t like leaving him.
She pulled into the restaurant parking lot and got out. Nice place in Sausalito, high on a hilltop with a view back toward the city.
She went inside and gave her name. The hostess led her to a private dining area that was closed off from the restaurant. The view was spectacular, four windows showcasing San Francisco at night.
One table was set up in the corner with a white linen tablecloth centered with a vase of a half-dozen bloodred roses, gleaming white china, and perfectly placed silverware. The crystal was expensive and was the kind of place setting she’d choose for a client if money were no object.
Who was this potential client anyway? She hoped whoever it was had money to spend on an event.
And why all the secrecy? Either Maggie had failed to write down all the information, or this potential client was some kind of freakin’ oddball.
Not that it mattered. She’d take oddball as long as the client had enough money to book an event. Growing her business was everything.
“Have a seat. He’ll be here shortly,” the hostess said.
“Thank you.”
Tara sipped her water, trying to tamp down her nerves. When she heard the door open, she stood and turned around, plastering on her brightest smile.
Her smile turned to a frown as Mick shut the door.
“Mick. What are you doing here?”
He came over and lifted her hand, pressed a kiss to the back, and folded it between his extra large ones. “Hi, Tara.”
She tried to look around him, certain her prospective client was going to walk in at any moment. “You have to leave. I’m expecting someone.”
“No, you’re not.”
Then she understood. Her hope for new business died, and in its place irritation grew. “You set this up.”
He smiled. “Yes.”
“But Maggie said ...” Then it dawned on her. Maggie. Of course. The little matchmaker. “Oh, I see. You talked to Maggie.”
“Your friends like me.”
She rolled her eyes and jerked her hand away. “Obviously all women find you irresistible.” She went to grab her purse.
“Except, apparently, you?”
His smirk indicated he wasn’t at all offended by her impending exit.
“I’m leaving. I don’t like being set up.”
He held the door open for her, which only irritated her further, as if he was going to just let her walk right out. She pushed it closed and laid her purse on the table by the door, then advanced on him. “Look, Mick. I had a great time with you. But it was a one and out, okay?”
“Why?”
“What?”
“Why was it a one and out? Didn’t we get along?”
“Of course we got along. You were there.”