The Matchmaking Machine

Chapter Two

“So tell me, Sherlock, what am I supposed to do about our visitor?” Richard asked.

“Why ask me?”

“Because you’re the one who told me not to open the door.”

“I didn’t mean permanently,” she said and then hastily lowered her voice, having no idea just how solid the door was. She most emphatically didn’t want Romanos to know she was here. He couldn’t report what he didn’t know to Worthington.

“Maybe if we just ignore him, he’ll go away?” she suggested hopefully.

Richard frowned as Daniel suddenly got more insistent and began to pound on the door. Normally, he appreciated his personal assistant’s dogged determination to get things done, but in this instance, it threatened to mess up his plans for Maggie.

“Impatient soul, isn’t he?” Maggie said. “You sure can tell he’s Worthington’s right-hand man.”

Richard ignored the pounding. Daniel could wait. For what he paid the man, he could wait quietly, too.

“Why do you say that?” Richard asked curiously.

“Because according to office gossip, Worthington is a real mover and shaker in the business world. That type never waits patiently, so it makes sense that he would surround himself with the same kind of people. And with Worthington due to arrive in New York tonight, it also makes sense that his assistant would want to report in as soon as possible. I’m just surprised he isn’t camped out at the airport.”

Impeccable logic, Richard thought. As smart as she was, it would be impossible to fool her for any length of time, but he hoped keeping his identity a secret from Maggie would be possible for at least one night.

Maggie winced as Daniel attacked the door again.

“He clearly has no intention of going peacefully into the night she said regretfully. “We’re going to have to let him in.”

“I could try telling him to go away and come back later,” Richard suggested. Whether Daniel would or not depended on whether or not he recognized Richard’s voice through the distorting effects of the wood.

“I think we’ve tried his patience enough,” she said with a glum look at the entrance. She could almost feel the hostility bristling through it.

“Why don’t you go see if your sweater and bra are dry while I let the guy in. I’ll give him my best ain’t-nobody-here-but-the-plumber routine.”

Only too happy not to have to face Daniel, whom she’d met Monday when he’d arrived from San Francisco and disliked at first sight, Maggie hurried back into the kitchen. This had been the most unsettling day. And meeting Richard had been the defining point. Who would have thought that she would find the most appealing man she’d ever met under a cabinet in a strange bathroom.

Not that she’d met that many men, she conceded. Mostly, she just avoided them. It was safer that way. Men were a huge complication that she hadn’t been able to afford in her life. She had been too busy, first studying and then working to establish her career. Too busy proving to herself that she wasn’t the least bit like her mother. Or her father. The acid burn of anger that thoughts of her father always engendered overwhelmed her and she briefly closed her eyes, took a deep breath and resolutely banished him back to oblivion, where he belonged.

Stepping into the minuscule laundry room, she pulled the louvered doors closed behind her before yanking open the dryer door and pulling out her sweater and bra. They were still damp, but she put them on anyway in case she needed to make a quick escape. If Daniel was here, Worthington wouldn’t be far behind. And she didn’t want to meet Worthington now. She intended to orchestrate their first encounter very carefully. She would project the image of a bright, confident, sophisticated woman. The only kind of woman likely to attract his interest, according to her program. At the moment, she felt—and undoubtedly looked—like a frazzled refugee from a hectic day at the office.

Richard opened the front door, catching Daniel with his fist raised to pound on the door again.

“Be quiet,” Richard ordered with a quick look over his shoulder to make sure Maggie was still in the kitchen. “Pretend you don’t know me.”

“Hell, Richard, in this mood, I’m not sure I do know you.”

Richard grinned. “I’m doing some undercover work. The report from the treasurer’s office is in the study, second door on the right.” He gestured toward the room Maggie had entered. “Make a copy of it and send it by courier to Baxter at the San Francisco office. Don’t fax anything,” Richard said.

“Will do. Oh, and Wilton called. He said he’d located a man named Zylinski in Washington, D.C., who’s a wizard at tracing embezzled funds through computers. I have a call in to him. I hope to hear from him tonight, or tomorrow morning, at the latest.”

“Promise him anything, but get him here immediately to trace the movement of the money Moore embezzled. Wright’s widow might have been willing to eat the losses to avoid sending her son-in-law to jail, but I want to know if Moore had any accomplices that are still with the company. Two million dollars in just three years is a hell of a lot of money for one person to lose playing poker even if he is a compulsive gambler.”

Daniel shook his head. “It’s a damn shame. Moore was one helluva salesman. He practically revitalized that company single-handedly after Wright had his first heart attack.”

“Yeah, and then he bled it dry. I still think Mrs. Wright was wrong. Son-in-law or not, she should have pressed charges against Moore.”

Daniel looked into Richard’s hard gray eyes and shivered. He sure wouldn’t want to cross Richard. He was not a forgiving man.

“Lock the door behind you and let me know as soon as you hear from the computer expert,” Richard said.

“Will do.” Daniel hurried down the hallway to the study while Richard went back into the kitchen. A sound from behind the closed laundry-room doors told him where Maggie was.

“I got rid of him,” Richard addressed the doors. “It’s safe to come out.”

Maggie opened the door and emerged, giving him a repressive look. “I wasn’t hiding,” she lied. “I was changing my clothes. Here’s your shirt, and thank you.”

She watched regretfully as he slipped into it and his magnificent, hairy chest disappeared from view.

“You can express your thanks by helping me connect the faucet back up again.”

“If you’ll remember correctly, that’s how I got wet in the first place,” she pointed out as she followed him back to the bathroom. Somehow, she seemed unable to resist the temptation of being around him. Maybe her makeover had changed more than just her outward appearance, she considered. Maybe wearing an up-to-the-minute hairstyle and sexy clothes had changed her outlook. Maybe dressing sexy made a woman more likely to act sexy. Kind of a variation on form following function? It was an unsettling thought.

“That was an accident,” Richard said.

“I still got wet.”

“It won’t happen again. All I need you to do is hold the faucet in place while I attach it.”

She looked at him wryly.

“I’ll buy you dinner if you help me,” he coaxed when she didn’t respond.

Maggie felt anticipation surge through her at the thought of going out to dinner with Richard, of spending the evening with him. And afterward, they could go back to her place and…Her mouth began to water as images of exactly what she would like to do with him flashed through her mind.

No, she hastily clamped down on her imagination. She didn’t know him well enough to invite him back to her apartment. He might look respectable, but looks could be deceptive. Look at her. New looks aside, she was as clueless about men as it was possible to be and still lay claim to femininity. But there was no reason to stay clueless. Not with Richard around…

The thought of Worthington and her plans for him briefly crossed her mind. Going out with Richard wouldn’t jeopardize those plans, she assured herself. Richard was a plumber who happened to be doing some work in Worthington’s apartment. It was highly unlikely that the two of them would even meet, let alone exchange confidences about the women they’d dated. Besides, going out with Richard would give her a chance to practice feeling comfortable around a man. She stole a quick glance at him and a shiver of awareness slithered down her spine. Somehow, comfortable and Richard were not mutually compatible concepts.

“It’s a deal,” she accepted, hoping the eagerness she felt wasn’t apparent in her voice. “I’ll help you plumb and then we can have dinner.” Never mind the work back at the office she was completely blowing off. Another reaction that wasn’t like her.

It didn’t take long to hook up the faucet, and Maggie stepped back with a pleased smile on her face when water gushed out with no sign of leakage. “I can see where you’d like plumbing. When you’re finished, you see positive results.”

“Most jobs are like that.”

“Not always,” she said ruefully. “I like my job, but sometimes I can work for days chasing a bug and still have nothing to show for it.”

“What exactly do you do?” Richard asked, curious as to what her role was in the company.

“Mostly, I liaison with customers, helping them figure out what they want and what kind of program can best help them do it. Sam Moore, our ex-president, used to say he sold the idea and it was up to me to translate it into something practical.”