Chapter 12 #2
“Obviously not,” Troy admitted.
Susan said, “It’s going to take some engineering.”
Flo folded her arms. “We have to put our heads together.”
“Our scheme needs to be the most clever ever designed,” Fernsby added.
“You’re forgetting one important thing,” Troy said. “Michaela doesn’t want to date me. Or billionaires in general.”
Fernsby waved his hand as if it were a magic wand. “My dear boy, that’s why we’re here. We are your guarantee.” Then he acknowledged his two companions. “Ladies, we have the perfect dates in mind, designed to melt even the hardest heart. Correct?”
Troy didn’t want to sound skeptical, but he couldn’t help asking, “Like what?”
Flo’s eyes burned brightly. “A rooftop piano lounge in San Francisco. Picture this.” She smoothed her hands through the air. “A piano softly playing, the moon and stars shining overhead, a candlelit table, Cakebread chardonnay.”
Troy drawled, “You do realize how cold it gets at night on a rooftop in San Francisco.”
Flo huffed. “Have you ever heard of halogen heaters?”
Susan practically elbowed Fernsby out of the way. “Dinner and a magnificent show. Something fresh off Broadway.”
Alice Fletcher had been a show person, while Michaela had said she wasn’t. Right? He turned his gaze on Flo, a nonverbal request for her opinion.
“I have to say, she’s not a show person,” Flo verified. “Though we did see Menopause The Musical in Las Vegas, and she laughed hysterically.” She shot a sparkling glance at Susan. “It was so funny. All tunes you and I would recognize from our youth, but reworded so they were about hot flashes.”
Susan laughed. “It sounds delightful. We were recently in Las Vegas for Charlie and Sebastian’s wedding. I wish I’d known about it.”
Flo held her arm, squeezing. “You must go see it. Even if you have to make a special trip.”
Then Fernsby drawled, “My dear ladies, it sounds terrifying.” Then he fanned himself, which made the two ladies giggle.
Troy figured they’d nixed the show idea.
To Fernsby, he muttered, “Last chance.”
Fernsby met the challenge. “I suggest a dinner cruise.”
Troy scoffed. “But we’ve taken a cruise on a private yacht. And she practically ran away afterward.”
Fernsby shot him a withering look. “But did you dance on the yacht, holding Michaela in your arms?”
Troy thought about the kiss. He’d held her in his palms. Was that good enough? But he certainly wasn’t going to tell the entire matchmaking team about that.
His watch vibrated with a notification. “Unfortunately, I have a meeting in a few minutes.”
Fernsby stated imperiously, “Cancel it, sir. This is far more important. This is your future wife we’re talking about.”
Flo’s eyes went as wide as an owl’s. “Is that what we’re talking about?”
Susan put her arm around Flo’s shoulders. “Let me tell you that with my boys, the road to love never ran smoothly. But in the end, they got there. Even if sometimes they needed a little nudge.”
The matchmaking team was becoming overzealous in planning his life. He had to stop them before they careened off the tracks. “I appreciate all your suggestions.” He crossed his arms over his chest. “But I will come up with the perfect date she can’t refuse.”
If Fernsby could smile, then that grimace on his lips was a smile. “I believe we have successfully lit the proverbial fire under the proverbial buttocks.” He mimed dusting off his hands. “Our work here is done.”
They hadn’t done anything at all. Except lighting that fire under his butt. Maybe that’s what this visit was all about.
As the trio headed for the door, Flo scanned the row of athletic shoes and hiking boots lining the wall in preparation for his meeting with a Hong Kong shoe manufacturer.
“Michaela loves to hike,” she said just before she closed the door behind her.
Alone again, Troy thought of Fernsby’s rebuke. Sir, this is your future wife we’re talking about.
Marriage?
For the first time in his life, the idea of marriage didn’t terrify Troy. Truth be told, he’d never thought about it. Not when he’d asked Cammie out on a date. Not even when Dane had threatened to pummel him for doing it.
Marriage?
When he pictured Michaela in his bed, the idea didn’t seem so impossible.
After a knock on the door, Betsy poked her head in. “The Hong Kong phone conference starts in five minutes.”
He didn’t hesitate for even a moment. “Cancel it.”
She stared at him like she didn’t recognize him. “But… but…”
That was all she managed before he said, “Please give them my abject apologies and reschedule.”
He knew what Betsy was thinking: This wasn’t like him. He’d never cancel this close to a meeting time. Unless it was an emergency.
But this was an emergency.
This was his future. As Fernsby had said, maybe even his future wife.
True, it was a very important meeting with the Hong Kong shoe manufacturer.
Their line of athletic shoes and hiking boots promised to blow everyone’s mind.
Not just the buying public, but the whole athletic-shoe industry itself.
He’d been courting the company for months, and now that he’d finally secured this negotiation, he was bailing on it.
She was still staring at him; maybe she thought he was a pod person straight out of Invasion of the Body Snatchers . “But, Troy, you’ve chased these guys for a year.”
He waved his hand as if that didn’t matter. “I have something more important to work on. They can wait a couple of days. The deal isn’t going to fall apart in one weekend.” And if it did, so be it. His next date with Michaela took precedence.
“All right,” Betsy said with a singsong lilt. “I’ll let them know.” Her face creased in lines of befuddlement, she turned to leave. Looking at him over her shoulder, she shook her head. “Do I even know you anymore?”
Betsy had worked for him long enough to make a judgment about that.
“Lately, I’m not sure I know myself.”
Fernsby found a coffee shop only two blocks from Troy’s building. He ordered each of the ladies a foaming cappuccino and instructed the barista to sprinkle on a little extra cinnamon. Cinnamon was a health food.
He had coffee, black. He was so healthy he didn’t need cinnamon.
After a sip of cappuccino, Flo said, “But we didn’t give him any ideas about where to take Michaela.”
Fernsby drawled, “Which is perfect, my dear lady. The dear boy must come up with the romantic elements himself. And he will. He’s actually quite intelligent, believe it or not.
” He leaned forward and whispered conspiratorially, “He just needed a little kick in the pants from us. Which we delivered in spades.”
Susan put down her cappuccino mug. “Oh my, Fernsby, that is delicious. Thank you so much.” She licked a tiny bit of foam from her lip.
“I have complete faith that Troy will figure it out.” She smiled.
The lady had such a delightful smile. “He’s got it bad if he came to me for help finding out what her favorite things are.
” She arched one elegant eyebrow. “He’s not one to give up easily. ”
Flo added, “And if he can’t figure it out, we’ll go back.”
Fernsby saluted the two ladies with his mug. “It’s delightful to be on this matchmaking mission with two such lovely ladies.”
They were his new favorite people.
He wondered briefly if he could talk to them about Mathilda Sullivan. Both had the most delightful ears to lend to any problem.
But no. No. That long-ago time was his cross to bear.
And he needed to bear it alone.