Ms. Match

“So tell me about your circles.”

She turned a bit to look at him and he felt as if he should have brought his college diploma to show her. “I’m a headhunter for Rockland-Stewart. Mostly scientific positions.”

“Really? I’ve used a headhunter once or twice.”

“For…?”

“Public relations. Primarily in the entertainment field.”

She nodded. “That makes sense.”

“Why?”

She went back to staring at the road. “You seem the entertainment industry type.”

“Do I hear a note of disdain?”

“No, I’m sure it’s fascinating work.”

“Actually, it is.”

“Why PR?”

“Why not? I’m good at it.”

“That, I’m sure of. You were quite smooth stepping into this awkward position.”

“So you would have preferred the original arrangement? Sam is a pretty interesting guy.”

Gwen sighed. “I’m being horrible, I’m sorry. My sister believes she’s doing me a favor, setting me up like this. I’ve told her at least a dozen times, if I wanted a date, I’d bring a date.”

“You like going stag? Even to something like this?” Paul got over to the right lane, ready for the interchange. The party was at the Marriott in Burbank. It wasn’t a long trip from her place in Pasadena, not by L. A. standards.

“It depends.”

“On?”

She gave him a look that he couldn’t make out as most of her face was in shadow. “My sister and most of my family don’t have a clue about my life. Just as I don’t have much of a clue about theirs. It’s just easier to go to family gatherings alone.”

“I see.”

“There’s a chance you’ll enjoy yourself, though,” she said. “It’ll be packed. Aside from all my parents’ friends, there’s my incredibly gigantic family. You know there are eight of us kids. Five of them are married and Faith is engaged. That’s not counting their children.”

“Whoa. I had no idea.”

“All of them are more like Autumn than me. It was a joke my whole life that my mother had an affair with the postman.”

“Unique is good.”

“And there’s the PR maven at work.”

Despite the fact that Gwen was right, he wasn’t liking this. Not even a little. Come on, he was doing a favor here. A rather large one. She could at least be gracious about it.

“I’m sorry. There I go again. It’s nothing personal, I assure you,” Gwen said.

“No problem.”

“It is. You’re doing a nice thing, even if your motivation is less than pure.”

“Okay, I’m not a saint, but I still think we could make the best of it. If it will make you more comfortable, I can drop you off and arrange for a car to take you home when you’re ready.”

That seemed to startle her. She looked his way, although since he was exiting the freeway, he couldn’t spare her much of a glance. It wasn’t until they were at the first stoplight that she answered.

“I’ll leave that to you. Have yourself a drink and something to eat. Leave when you feel like it. And you don’t have to worry about a car home. I can take care of that, myself.”

“Fine. Let’s see how it goes.”

Even though he couldn’t really see her, he felt her relax. His own shoulders loosened, as well. Now that he had a tidy out, he figured if he played his cards right, he might still be able to make his poker game. He smiled as he turned into the Marriott driveway.

Chapter 2

THE MOMENT the elevator door opened, Gwen heard a swing orchestra and knew her parents were in their version of heaven. They were both in their early seventies, but they still loved a great bash. That’s why, in Gwen’s solitary opinion, they’d had so many kids. They lived for an audience and a big dance floor. In their day they had been extraordinary dancers, winners of all kinds of prizes. When they got into the groove, they could outlast a lot of younger couples.

Gwen glanced at Paul as they made their way to the grand ballroom. He wore his tuxedo the way some men wear Levi’s, as if it was the first thing he’d grab in the event of a fire.

Everything about him was the kind of slick you had to look for. So subtle that the signs of effort could easily be missed. His nails had been buffed, though not excessively so. His hair was perfectly mussed as if he’d just rolled out of a movie bed. Not a real bed, because that would be too risky, plus there was the whole eye-gunk and bad breath thing to deal with. No, Paul looked like a big-screen leading man.

Seconds before they reached the entrance, Gwen thought about stepping closer to him, making sure her family and their friends would know that he was with her. The thought brought a wry grin to her face which she hoped Paul didn’t see, or wouldn’t know how to interpret.

She kept the same distance from him as they rounded the door, then felt his open palm on the small of her back.

Startled, she looked up at him. He smiled and gave her a wink, which would have been delightful if the underlying reason for his attention hadn’t been pity. Despite those momentary urges to thumb her nose at her family, this was not the way she wanted to play. The game itself made her ashamed of her entire brood, and herself. She stepped away, dislodging his hand and any notion he might have harbored that she needed rescuing.

Paul took the rejection in stride, his seductive smile not faltering. It occurred to Gwen that the seduction was all part of his package. His personal autosetting. Seduce and conquer. Of course he was successful. He’d been born for his work.

“Gwen?”

She slowed at the sound of her sister’s voice. Faith. Six years older than Gwen, Faith was a buyer for Neiman Marcus. Her fiancé, Bret, standing at her side, was also a buyer. The two of them were a match made in heaven. Between them, they almost had a whole brain. “Yes, Faith, it’s me. Gwen.”

“And who’s this?” Faith eyed Paul as if he were a hot new designer jacket. Her whole face lit up with curiosity, which naturally made her even more beautiful. Her sisters, all five of them, had been models at some time during their lives. Despite the fact that Faith was thirty-four, she still fielded offers from photographers.

“Paul Bennet, my sister, Faith.”

Paul bowed his head which made Faith sigh before she looked back at Gwen. “You must give me the name of the escort service. Not for me, naturally, but I know a lot of women…Anyway, it’s lovely to meet you.”

Gwen’s gaze shifted to Paul, catching the tail end of his shock. He regained his aplomb quickly.

“I see the bar.” He nodded toward the side of the room and completely ignored Faith and her idiotic statement. “Shall we get a drink?”