The Matchmaking Machine

Richard felt a slight chill at the warmth in her voice as she mentioned Moore. Just how friendly was she with Moore? Obviously friendly enough to resent his no longer being there. But had she been friendly enough to know what he’d been up to? The thought jarred, and he shoved it to the back of his mind because there was no way he could answer it now. He’d have a better picture of what the situation was after the computer-fraud expert had done his work. Until then, he’d assume Maggie was exactly what she seemed to be: a gorgeous, sexy woman who found him interesting.

“And do you make it practical?” he asked.

“About ninety-nine percent of the time. I find programming fascinating, but then I’m a bit of a computer fanatic.” Maggie kept her answer brief for fear of boring him. As more than one of her girlfriends had told her, not everyone was as interested in computer applications as she was.

“What time do you want to eat?” she asked.

Richard checked the gold watch on his wrist and Maggie frowned slightly as she noticed it. It was an odd watch for a plumber to have. She would have expected him to own something in stainless steel with lots of gadgets. Instead, he was wearing a thin dress watch that didn’t appear to do anything other than tell time.

“Seven?” he suggested. “How about if I get a couple of tickets to a Broadway show for after dinner?”

“No.” Maggie hastily refused his offer. She wanted to spend the evening talking and getting to know him and she could hardly do that if they were at a performance. It would be better to keep the first date unstructured so that she could cut it short if the pressure got to be too much for her.

“You don’t like live theater?” he asked curiously.

“Yes, but it’s been a long week and I’m tired,” she improvised. “I’d probably fall asleep in a darkened theater.”

“Okay, I’ll pick you up at seven. What’s your address?”

“How about if I meet you in front of the restaurant?” Maggie remembered her earlier reservations about giving out her home address to a stranger. Even a fascinating stranger.

“Do you have a favorite?”

“There’s a good restaurant over by the Museum of Natural History that serves an excellent blackberry salmon,” Maggie said.

“What’s the name of the place?”

Maggie searched her memory and came up blank. “I can’t remember. How about if I meet you in front of the museum. The entrance that faces the park?”

Richard squashed the spurt of anger he felt at her refusal to trust him with her address. This wasn’t San Francisco, he reminded himself. New York apparently had its own set of dating rules. Besides, he thought with satisfaction, one phone call to personnel on Monday and he’d have her file, complete with her home address. He could wait until then.

“The entrance in front of the park,” he repeated.

“Did Romanos say when his boss was due in?” she asked.

“No, he didn’t say much of anything. He just left some papers and took that folder you brought.”

Maggie frowned slightly.

“What’s the matter?” he asked, wondering if she would make an excuse to go back into the study to look at the papers Daniel had left.

“Did you ask to see any ID? I saw Romanos in the office so I’d recognize his face, but you wouldn’t know him,” she added at Richard’s blank look. “All jokes about industrial spying aside, our company does some highly sensitive work for some pretty high-powered financial institutions.”

Richard resisted the urge to reassure her, knowing that the only way he could was to admit he was Worthington, and he didn’t want to do that until he’d had a chance to get to know her. And for her to get to know him. “Was there something confidential in what you brought?” he said.

“I don’t actually know but probably not. If it had been highly confidential, Emily would have brought it herself.” At least, she hoped Emily would have been professional enough to put aside her animosity long enough to do it.

“I’ll see you at seven, and thanks for your help with the faucet,” Richard said as he walked her to the door.

“You’re welcome.” Maggie stepped out into the hallway and heard the door close behind her with a restrained thud. The flash of loss she felt at the sound caught her off guard. She’d just met the man, for heaven’s sake. She couldn’t miss him already.

Stepping into the elevator, she automatically pushed the button for the lobby. Her mind was fully occupied with trying to make sense of her unusual reaction to Richard. She couldn’t. She had no idea why her response to him had been so strongly sensual. Granted, he was gorgeous, but gorgeous men were a dime a dozen in a city the size of New York. It was as if her emotions had recognized him on some level that her rational mind didn’t even know existed.

She gave Emily a quick call to let her know she wouldn’t be returning to work and then made her way to the front entrance. She shivered as she stepped out of the apartment building and a cool gust of spring wind pounced on her, making her damp sweater feel cold and clammy. She hurried toward the bus stop. She needed to get home and into dry clothes before she came down with something.

Thirty minutes later, she let herself into her apartment and, after making herself a cup of apricot coffee, powered up her computer, bringing up her dating program. She hadn’t learned as much as she’d hoped about Worthington from her visit to his apartment, but every little bit helped. The more facts she entered, the more accurate the responses would be when she asked it questions.

Maggie caught her lower lip between her teeth as she wondered what kinds of things the program would tell her if she had a way to use it on Richard.

On the other hand, it might be more fun to delve into Richard’s personality the old-fashioned way. Slowly. Taking her time to learn his likes and dislikes. Discovering all the little quirks that made him the unique individual he was. A shiver ran over her skin at the thought. She didn’t have the slightest doubt that it would be worth every second it took.

The chime of her clock reminded her of the passing time, and she hurriedly finished keying in the information about Worthington’s apartment. The information she had garnered so far about what made John Worthington tick was still sketchy at best, she thought with frustration. Hopefully, that would improve once she actually met the man and was able to observe him in action. Then she could fine tune her program, and begin to ask it questions more complicated than what his ideal woman looked like and how he would respond to general situations.

A sense of anticipation mixed with dread roiled through her at the thought of using it. Anticipation over Worthington being held accountable for his ruthlessness. Dread of the possible consequences of her actions, of setting events in motion that might be hard to control.

Wealthy men tended to think of themselves as outside the normal rules of civilized behavior. Her one and only meeting with her biological father had graphically proved that to her. And, according to her research, Worthington was far wealthier than her father had been.

But even if she failed in her attempts to make Worthington pay, it couldn’t backfire, could it? She tried to look at the situation logically. He couldn’t hurt her emotionally. She would never be dumb enough to fall for the guy. Not only did she have good reason to dislike Worthington personally but also her mother’s experience had taught her to avoid wealthy men like the plague. Besides, her intense attraction to Richard was almost like being inoculated against John Worthington. No, emotionally she was safe.

And what else could he realistically do to her? Fire her? That didn’t matter because she fully intended to leave just as soon as she found another job anyway. She didn’t want to work for a man who treated his employees the way Worthington had treated Sam.

A second chime from the clock galvanized her into action and she hurried to get ready.

Once she had showered and liberally sprayed herself with the light floral scent she preferred, she hurried into the bedroom to get dressed.

Opening her closet, she automatically grabbed one of her pre-Worthington outfits. Catching herself, she hastily put it back. Like the rest of her old wardrobe, it was in earth tones and bought two sizes too big to successfully disguise the shape of her breasts and the curve of her hips. It was designed to make men’s eyes skim over her without lingering.

A shudder of distaste churned through her stomach as she remembered the feel of her first foster father’s eyes on her. Remembered the feeling of contamination, as if her body were somehow responsible for his licentious thoughts and the whispered filth he’d subjected her to every time he’d caught her alone.

That wasn’t your fault, she said to herself, slicing off the insidious memories. He was the archetypal dirty old man, but that was his problem, not yours, Maggie reminded herself, remembering what the psychologist had told her. Her mind might believe it, but somehow her intellect had never been able to convince her emotions. Every time a man looked at her, she didn’t see honest appreciation of her femininity; she saw unclean lust.

Face it, woman, she told herself. You allowed a dirty old man to dictate your relationship to your feelings for the past fourteen years, and it’s long past time to stop it!

She nodded decisively. Getting revenge on Worthington would serve a dual purpose. Beyond the obvious one, it would be the opportunity to learn to dress so that she looked like what she wanted to be inside—a thoroughly modern professional. And after she’d finished with Worthington, maybe she could hang up her emotional baggage in the back of the closet with her unflattering wardrobe. Maybe she could risk looking for someone to share her life with. There had to be some men out there who would enrich her life instead of hopelessly complicating it. All she had to do was to find one.

A shiver of pleasure skittered over her skin as an image of Richard filled her mind. What would it be like to wake up in the morning next to him? The intriguing question crossed her mind. On the surface, Richard seemed like he could be the ideal man for her. He was built like the living embodiment of every sexual fantasy she’d ever had. He was easy to talk to, with a sense of humor that appealed to her, and he was perfect financially.

The sound of the clock as it struck half past the hour jerked her out of her thoughts. If she didn’t hurry up, she’d be late, and he might not wait.

After dressing, she grabbed a cab. She had the driver drop her off a block from the museum so that she could casually walk up. She didn’t want Richard to think she had been standing around, waiting for him.

To her relief, Richard was already there when she arrived. She paused slightly behind a woman pushing a double baby stroller and studied him as he stared out into the street, clearly waiting for a taxi to pull up.

Compulsively, her eyes ran over him. He was wearing a pair of cream chinos, a pale blue T-shirt and a white linen jacket that made his shoulders seem even broader. His dark hair was slightly disheveled from the wind and her fingertips tingled with a compulsion to touch it.

Richard turned, tensing when he caught sight of her. He felt the impact of her presence in every cell of his body. On the way over he’d told himself that his memory had exaggerated her appeal, but clearly it hadn’t. He still found her physically fascinating. She drew him in on some instinctive level that totally bypassed rational thought.

Okay, so he was sexually attracted to her. There was nothing wrong with that. He was a free adult male. There was no reason for him not to explore that attraction. Especially considering that his interest had to be reciprocated or she wouldn’t have accepted his invitation to dinner. And she’d accepted it without knowing who he really was. Normally, he never knew if a woman liked him or his considerable bank balance, but with Maggie, he knew he didn’t have to wonder. She didn’t have a clue as to his net worth and she still wanted to go out with him. He was looking forward to the novel experience of just being an average man.