Chapter Five #3
Maryanne smiled. She wished she could say the same thing about her and Nolan. “It was nice to meet you, Gloria. Maybe I’ll see you around.”
“That’d be great.”
“Gloria,” Eddie shouted, “are you coming or not?”
The teenage girl shook her head. “I don’t know why I put up with him.”
Maryanne left the park soon afterward. The first thing she noticed when she got home was an envelope taped to her door.
She waited until she was inside the apartment to open it, and as she did a single ticket and a note slipped out. “I’m going to be stuck at the office,” the note read. “The curtain goes up at eight—don’t be late. N.”
Maryanne was mildly disappointed that Nolan wouldn’t be driving her to the play, but she decided to splurge and take a taxi.
By seven-thirty, when the cab arrived, she was dressed and ready.
She wore her best evening attire, a long black velvet skirt and matching blazer with a cream-colored silk blouse.
She’d even put on her pearl earrings and cameo necklace.
The theatre was one of the nicest in town, and Maryanne’s heart sang with excitement as the usher escorted her to her seat. Nolan hadn’t arrived yet and she looked around expectantly.
The curtain was about to go up when a man she mentally categorized as wealthy and a bit of a charmer settled in the vacant seat next to hers.
“Excuse me,” he said, leaning toward her, smiling warmly. “I’m Griff Bradley. Nolan Adams sent me.”
It didn’t take Maryanne two seconds to figure out what Nolan had done. The low-down rat had matched her up with someone he considered more appropriate. Someone he assumed she had more in common with. Someone wealthy and slick. Someone her father would approve of.
“Where’s Nolan?” Maryanne demanded. She bolted to her feet and grabbed her bag, jerking it so hard the gold chain strap threatened to break.
Griff looked taken aback by her sharp question. “You mean he didn’t discuss this with you?”
“He invited me to this play. I assumed…I believed the two of us would be attending it together. He didn’t say a word about you. I’m sorry, but I can’t agree to this arrangement.” She started to edge her way out of the row just as the curtain rose.
To her dismay, Griff followed her into the aisle. “I’m sure there’s been some misunderstanding.”
“You bet there has,” Maryanne said, loudly enough to attract the angry glares of several patrons sitting in the aisle seats. She rushed toward the exit with Griff in hot pursuit.
“If you’ll give me a moment to explain—”
“It won’t be necessary.”
“You are Maryanne Simpson of the New York Simpsons?”
“Yes,” she said, walking directly outside. Moving to the curb, she raised her hand and shouted, “Taxi!”
Griff raced around to stand in front of her. “There isn’t any need to rush off like this. Nolan was just doing me a good turn.”
“And me a rotten one. Listen, Mr. Bradley, you look like a very nice gentleman, and under any other circumstances I would’ve been more than happy to make your acquaintance, but there’s been a mistake.”
“But—”
“I’m sorry, I really am.” A cab raced toward her and squealed to a halt.
Griff opened the back door for her, looking more charming and debonair than ever. “I’m not sure my heart will recover. You’re very lovely, you know.”
Maryanne sighed. The man was overdoing it, but he certainly didn’t deserve the treatment she was giving him. She smiled and apologized again, then swiftly turned to the driver and recited her address.
Maryanne fumed during the entire ride back to her apartment. Rarely had she been more furious. If Nolan Adams thought he could play matchmaker with her, he was about to learn that everything he’d ever heard about redheads was true.
“Hey, lady, you all right?” the cabbie asked.
“I’m fine,” she said stiffly.
“That guy you were with back at the theatre didn’t try anything, did he?”
“No, some other man did, only he’s not going to get away with it.
” The driver pulled into her street. “That’s the building there,” Maryanne told him.
She reached into her bag for her wallet and pulled out some of her precious cash, including a generous tip.
Then she ran into the apartment building, heedless of her clothes or her high-heeled shoes.
For the first time since moving in, Maryanne didn’t pause to rest on the third-floor landing.
Her anger carried her all the way to Nolan’s apartment door.
She could hear him typing inside, and the sound only heightened her temper.
Dragging breath through her lungs, she slammed her fist against the door.
“Hold on a minute,” she heard him grumble.
His shocked look as he threw open the door would have been comical in different circumstances. “Maryanne, what are you doing here?”
“That was a rotten underhanded thing to do, you deceiving, conniving, low-down…rat!”
Nolan did an admirable job of composing himself. He buried his hands in his pockets and smiled nonchalantly. “I take it you and Griff Bradley didn’t hit it off?”