My hands shook as the elevator hurtled up fifty-seven flights.
As the doors opened, I adjusted the leather bag on my shoulder, then stepped out. The three profiles were printed on high-quality paper, complete with professional portraits. Adele insisted her matches looked their best. First impressions were everything.
There was no one in the quiet reception area near the elevators. I checked my phone — ten to six — and pushed through the glass doors to Peter’s waiting room.
His office door was closed. He’d come out when he was ready.
Too anxious to sit, I wandered the periphery of the room and admired the reproductions on the wall. Stieglitz, O’Keefe, Strand, Demuth.
Beyond the artwork, the cityscape flittered through the floor-to-ceiling glass and I held my breath in wonder as wispy clouds passed just feet away from me.
I could be standing on top of the world, but my heart felt heavy.
Giddiness overtook me. Not quite vertigo. A primal fear, perhaps, like the floaty, disembodied feeling you get on a roller coaster. A rush.
Unless that rush originated from my anticipation of seeing Peter.
I had to protect myself with protocol and procedure. They’d straight-jacket me, prevent me from saying anything foolish.
Once he selected a candidate, she’d take front and center. If things didn’t work out, he’d choose another.
The hardest part would soon be over. Even so, my heart sank.
“Madelyn.”
My name on his lips sent tingles racing down my spine, and the smile in his voice brought one to my face as I turned to greet him.
God, he looked gorgeous. His suit and dress shirt fit as if they were part of him.
You’re staring at him, Maddie. I blinked.
He gestured into his office. “Come in.”
“Thank you.” I passed him, mind fumbling for something intelligent to say.
“How is Adele?”
“Still unconscious.” I stepped inside his office and waited while he closed the door. “But I thought I saw her eyelids flutter — just for a moment — like maybe she’s close to coming back to us.”
He smiled broadly. “Then we have something to celebrate. Would you like a glass of wine?” He held up a dark bottle. “It’s a cab. I’m usually in a rush to get out of here on a Friday night and wouldn’t normally use this space to relax and…” He waved a hand toward the windows.
“Enjoy the view,” I finished, and swept my gaze across the panorama as it transitioned from day to night. “It’s stunning.” I turned back and thought the same of him. “And yes, please. I’d love a glass.”
He scooped two stemless glasses from a cabinet and grabbed a corkscrew. The loud pop of the cork startled me. He handed me the drink, and I breathed in the musky scent.
I swish the liquid, then tasted it. “Lovely.”
He joined me and agreed. “Have a seat. I’ll turn down the lights, so we can get a better view.”
We settled into the comfortable chairs near the windows. The lights of the office were just bright enough to see the whirl of dark liquid in my glass. I cupped it in my palm and stared through the clear panels in front of us. “What a view,” I murmured.
“Indeed.”
We sat in companionable silence, the wine easing the tension in my shoulders.
“Do you like sushi?” he asked.
“Um, sure. Love it.”
“There’s a place nearby that makes raw vegan rolls. Would you like to try some?”
My standard fare was salad most days, but I loved all types of Asian food. “That sounds interesting, yes.”
He texted an order.
“Do we need to pick it up?” I swirled the wine in my glass as I sank a little deeper into my chair.
“They deliver. Danny will call when the food arrives and send the delivery person up.” He studied me with an amused glimmer in his eyes. “The wine seems to be going down well.”
“Mm,” I murmured, feeling relaxed and happy for the first time in a while.
“You’re not driving anywhere later tonight, are you?” he asked.
“No, I’ll catch a taxi home.” I frowned. “How about you?”
“I thought I’d stay the night and do a yoga session in the morning, then head home.”
I lifted an eyebrow. “You mean, stay here?”
He nodded. “It happens sometimes when I have a project due and work late.” He gestured toward a plush black sofa across the room. “That makes a comfortable bed.”
Sofas weren’t my idea of comfort, but I was picky about where I slept. Nor did I sleep much with company.
And didn’t my mind just take a wild left turn down an alley it shouldn’t be wandering, Maddie?
“You said you have something to show me?” Peter said.
My wandering alcohol-induced mind brought a flush of heat to my cheeks. Hopefully, the lights were too low for Peter to notice.
I cleared my throat. “Uh, yes. Three candidates.”
He nodded. “Well then, why don’t we get our business out of the way?”
There was something not quite right about that suggestion, but I reached for my bag and pulled out the carefully prepared packet.
Part of me was reluctant to hand over the folder.
None of these women are right for this man.
But I had to let him make his own decision.
Why did Adele assign Peter to me as a client when she knew how close we were matched? Was it a test of my integrity?
If so, I had to prove myself worthy.
I tightened my shoulders and handed him the envelope.
Peter reached for the designer table lamp and pulled its chain, then opened the folder. He tugged a pair of reading glasses from his shirt pocket and slipped them on.
The angular ebony frames fit his face perfectly. He not only looked gorgeous, but intellectual too. He could be a fashion model.
Except he wasn’t. He was my client. Adele would never forgive me if I broke her golden rule. Nor would I.
I took another mouthful of wine and realized I’d emptied the glass.
Peter noticed despite his study of the profiles. “Can I get you more wine?”
I set my glass on the side table. “I’ll wait for you to catch up.”
A smile flittered across his face as he returned his gaze to the pages in front of him.
When he’d read them through, he said, “Let’s move to the table. I’d like to spread these out and compare them.”
With a nod, I followed him to a round meeting table circled by four chairs. We sat next to each other, and Peter set the stapled profiles in a line across the tabletop.
“Do they come with any kind of rating?” he asked.
I pulled back in surprise. “They do, but we don’t share those figures.”
“Because they might influence selection?”
I nodded.
“And what do you think of Barbara?” he asked.
My lips parted. “I don’t want to influence your selection either,” I answered, withholding my chagrin.
His lips twitched on the edge of a smile. “But, I value your opinion.” He returned his attention to the profiles, flipping back and forth through the pages.
“It might be better if you took the profiles home, spent some time with each of them, so to speak.”
He chuckled. “You’re right. Besides, the sushi will be here soon. Let me get you more wine.” He rose and retrieved the bottle.
I picked up our glasses and went to join him, swaying just a little as I lifted my glass. Wine on an empty stomach. Not a good idea.
“Are you tipsy, Miss Harrison?” There was a hint of laughter in his voice.
“Possibly,” I said, keeping my features stoic.
He cupped my hand, which cradled my glass, to keep both steady while he poured.
I glanced up as he lifted the bottle away. Our eyes met and locked. He hadn’t released my hand. He’d closed his fingers around it.
“You’re a beautiful woman, Madelyn Harrison,” he said softly, sliding his fingers from mine.
I swallowed, sure he was about to kiss me. Or I was going to kiss him. My lips parted, my chest heaved and my inhibitions seeped away.
“You make it difficult to concentrate,” he whispered.
A sharp rap at the office door made me jump so violently I almost fell over.
Peter saved my wine and circled his arm around my waist, steadying me.
“Danny must’ve sent the delivery person up.” The calm in his voice helped me recover.
He set down the wine bottle and went to answer.
“I think you’re going to love this,” he said, rustling a plastic bag on the meeting table. “Grab the wine, would you?”
I topped up his half-empty glass and joined him at the table.
We sat side by side, and while we ate the raw-vegan sushi, Peter told me about his diet. No animal products and nothing cooked.
“That’s got to be limiting.” I popped a sushi roll in my mouth. The taste of avocado and cucumber mixed with soy sauce and pickled ginger set my tongue tingling. “Mm, this is good,” I said when I’d finished chewing.
“Not so limiting, but the preparation takes longer. Fermentation and dehydration play a significant part. Assuming you don’t want to live entirely off salads.”
I waved an avocado roll at him. “I think I could live off these.”
He set down his chopsticks and leaned toward me. “How has a lovely young woman like yourself managed to stay single while working for a matchmaking company?”
I licked the residual wasabi-soy-sauce mix off my lower lip. “How do you know I’m single?” I teased.
Peter smirked. “Setting aside the fact you said you live with your grandmother, I’d say it’s a safe bet because you’ve met me here two Friday evenings in a row. If I were your significant other, I might have a problem with that.”
“How do you know she doesn’t?” I asked, struggling to keep a straight face.
He laughed, and so did I.
“It’s ironic, isn’t it? I spend my days finding mates for other people but haven’t found one for myself.” I pushed my plate away and crossed my arms over the table. “Unfortunately, my job comes with rules. I’m not allowed to match myself to a client.”
Peter nodded, all laughter gone. “An irony to be sure.”
I sighed. “That’s the company’s golden rule, one my grandmother is a stickler about.”
The food eaten and the bottle empty, I begged my leave and texted for a ride home. “Let me know if you’d like to meet any of these ladies,” I said on my way out. “If no one catches your interest, I’ll expand my search.”
He opened his office door. “Can I call you as soon as I’ve made a decision?”
Having passed him, I turned back. “I’m available anytime. Footloose and boyfriend free,” I joked, and forced a smile.
He chuckled. “Let me see you to your ride.”