Chapter Seven

 

 

 

Inside the darkened auditorium, Molly sat next to Rory in plush velvet-covered seats, their knees almost touching, while up on the big screen he was playing the romantic lead in the latest film sensation, a bittersweet comedy about a TV presenter killed in a car accident. Rory’s character, Jimmy Mack, is left in a state of limbo, neither alive nor fully gone over to the other side, unhappily residing in that nowhere land, Betwixt and Between, the title of the film.

Opposite him, playing the romantic heroine, helping him make the transition to another world, was Carey Fisher, a young Australian actress who lit up the screen with her luminous beauty. All the time Molly had to remind herself that the heartthrob high up on the screen was sitting right next to her and she’d been landed with the job of finding this man a bride! Could this experience get any more surreal? she wondered.

It was a fabulous film, entertaining, poignant and laugh-out-loud funny. And both Rory and Carey won the hearts of the audience with their honest and believable performances. So believable in fact that every time they kissed and cuddled, Molly screwed up her face, watching the unfolding events through one eye as she cringed in discomfort. It was excruciating to see Rory in such intimate exchanges while sitting alongside him. She clutched her arms around her chest, wriggling in her seat, as a whole range of emotions ran riot around her body as she watched Rory seducing a woman, embarrassment, a stirring of arousal and that unwelcome shard of jealousy that she had no reason to feel.

One thing it taught her was that any woman brave enough to take on Rory as her boyfriend would need to have oodles of self-confidence and assurance and be successful in their own right. Wilting violets definitely need not apply. Molly was all of those things, but there was no way she’d be able to cope with watching the man she loved falling in love with other women, even if it was only for make believe. There were too many painful reminders of her own reality there.

“So what did you think?” Rory asked when the credits rolled.

“Oh, it was amazing,” said Molly honestly, dabbing away a few random tears from her cheeks with a tissue. “It was so sad at the end when she had to say goodbye to Jimmy. I thought my heart would break. And you and Carey were just brilliant together. You made the perfect couple.”

Everyone else thought so too. Rory was swamped by people wanting to offer their congratulations and Rory spoke to each one of them graciously and courteously, but Molly was thankful he included her in the conversation, keeping her close to his side, a proprietary arm around her shoulder at all times.

As soon as the crowds had dispersed, he turned to her.

“There’s a party going on in the basement, which I should probably attend, but…” He shrugged, looking as if he couldn’t imagine anything worse. “I don’t know about you, but I’m all partied out. I might head for home, unless you have a burning desire to go…”

“No, not at all.” She wasn’t bothered about the party, so why the sense of deflation that Rory was bringing their evening to a premature end? As far as he was concerned, it was a case of job done and it looked as though her services were no longer required. Hurt and disappointment pricked at her skin, but she shook them aside. “That’s absolutely fine with me. It’s been a long day and I’m tired out. I could do with an early night too. But thanks so much for inviting me along, it’s been a great evening.”

Rory’s brow furrowed.

“Hey, you’re not getting out of this that easily. I can’t invite you out for the evening and not feed you. I was thinking a takeaway, Chinese, Indian, a burger? What do you fancy?”

Molly’s laugh masked her relief, the mention of food making her stomach rumble. With Rory she never quite knew what to expect next. One moment he was taking her to Michelin-starred restaurants and then the next he was suggesting the local burger bar. In his black tie getup as well, he couldn’t have looked more inappropriately dressed for the occasion. She gazed up into his dark, smiling eyes, warming to him even more at the fact that he could take a wildly glamorous evening and turn it into something reassuringly normal.

“Now you come to mention it, a burger sounds just heavenly,” she sighed.

 

* * * *

 

“That…was…amazing!” Molly licked her fingers, removing the final traces of barbeque sauce from each of them in turn. They were back at Rory’s apartment, sitting on his plump leather sofa with polystyrene boxes surrounding them and Bella sitting at their feet, looking hopeful. Molly had managed to polish off a double bacon burger, large fries, onion rings and a strawberry milkshake with gusto and was now looking happily satiated.

“You enjoyed that then?” Rory couldn’t keep the amusement from his voice.

“Oh God, it was so good,” she said, passing Bella a sneaky chip with a pretend you haven’t seen this look to Rory. He thought about all the many other women he’d ever gone out with and wondered how many of them would have been happy with a take-out. Not many, he reckoned. A lot of them didn’t do carbs, some of them didn’t do fats and the rest of them just didn’t do food in general. He hated a woman who picked at her food, turning it over disdainfully as though it might be poisoned. For Rory, one of the great pleasures in life was eating, along with drinking and sex, although those last two pleasures had been the cause of so many of his problems.

Molly loved her food, that much was evident, and she clearly enjoyed a drink or two. And the other thing? Well, he could only wonder about that. Which he found himself doing a lot of the time. Even though his appetite was now sated, he still felt that recurring hunger gnawing at the core of his stomach, something that he knew could never be satisfied with food, and would be made worse by succumbing to the booze again. No, this particular hunger could be filled solely from the touch of the woman beside him. Somehow she’d seeped into his consciousness. Slowly and surely until she’d taken up residence in his heart. He still wasn’t sure whether or not he was about to evict her.

He thought about her the whole time, when he woke in the morning and when he went to bed at night, laying his head on the pillow. She’d gotten right beneath his skin with her natural beauty and honesty and that joyful laugh, which hit him full-on in the solar plexus, sending ripples of delight through his body.

Rarely did a woman have such a polarizing effect upon him. And if they did there was one simple way to get it out of his system. But he wasn’t going there. Not this time.

He’d made a commitment to himself and to Molly. Instead of acting impulsively and reaching for the nearest bottle of scotch or the prettiest woman available, he was going to act sensibly for the first time in his life. Finding a wife the sensible way would hopefully bring some much-needed stability to his life.

Only Molly was in the mix now and he could never had anticipated when he first walked into her office that the woman who was supposed to be sorting out his love life would be the woman to completely mess up his heart and mind.

Rory had been wrestling with his feelings from the moment he’d met her. Just being in her presence, he could sense the element of danger, the risk to his own equilibrium. However tantalizing and tempting Miss Matthews might be, he wasn’t certain he wanted to open his heart to that sort of exposure. Besides, there were Molly’s feelings to consider too. The inner hurt she carried around with her was tangible and he wasn’t prepared to cause any more damage to those lively eyes just for the sake of a fling.

“I was just thinking, Rory,” she said, tidying away the debris of their burger banquet into neat piles on the coffee table, “you get to work with some of the most beautiful and talented women in the world. It’s hardly surprising that none of the dates I’ve arranged for you have come to anything. All of my female clients are lovely women, but I can’t help thinking that it would be hard for any of them to match up to the glamorous women you’re used to meeting in your working life. Take Carey, for example. She’s utterly gorgeous. What was she like to work with?”

“Honestly?” Rory shook his head gravely. “A complete nightmare. I’ll give it to her, she’s a fabulous actress, but… She might look like an angel, but she swears like a trooper. And high maintenance? You wouldn’t believe it. She’ll eat only macrobiotic foods, has to have her trailer feng-shuied before she’ll step foot inside it, is allergic to every substance going apart from her god-awful cat, and dogs? The devil’s creature, apparently.”

“Really?” Molly’s mouth gaped open and those big brown eyes grew ever wider at his words, clearly delighting in his indiscretion.

“I learnt a long time ago that actresses are bad news when it comes to relationships. Don’t get me wrong. There’s been the occasional fling, flirtations that last the length of time it takes to shoot the film, but once the final cuts are in the can, that’s it. You move onto the next film.”

“That doesn’t sound very romantic.” She sighed, looking deflated.

Why didn’t that surprise Rory? Beneath the buttoned-up exterior and her burning belief that love could be engineered in a top-floor office, she was a hopeless romantic at heart. “Romance is overrated. You must know that, doing what you do. You must see many people coming through your doors, disillusioned with romance and looking for a more pragmatic solution to their problem of finding a partner. Besides, after Emma I came to the conclusion that it was probably best not to mix my personal life with my working life.”

“Emma?” Her interest piqued, Molly sat forward on the edge of the couch, her knees tight together, her body facing Rory, her eyes beseeching him to tell more.

Immediately he regretted mentioning her name. He hadn’t spoken about her in years, he rarely thought about her these days, but saying her name out aloud gave it a validity he wasn’t sure he wanted to acknowledge.

“Oh, an old friend. We kind of grew up together and then when I went off to drama school, she followed me there. We did our first repertory tour together. It was a lot of fun, driving around the country in a clapped-out old van.”

“Did you love her?”

Molly’s question came out of the blue, startling him with its directness. He’d never even asked himself that question.

“It was just a teenage thing. We had a bit of a fling for the three months we were on the road, but it wasn’t anything serious.”

At least it hadn’t been at the time. When they hadn’t been working they’d spent their time talking long into the night, laughing, making love. They’d lived for the moment, until the bubble was burst and Emma waltzed off without a backward glance to chase her dreams. For as long as he could remember Emma had been a constant in his life. And somewhere deep in his consciousness, he’d assumed she always would be. There at his side. But he’d realized too late that it was a dangerous assumption to make and one he wouldn’t make again.

“Do you still run into her now? Is she still an actress?”

“No, she lives in America. She’s a big star out there.”

“Really? Would I have heard of her then?”

“Probably. Her name was Emma Dean when I knew her, but she’s more commonly known these days as Emma D’Santi.”

“Wow! I never knew you two were an item!” Not for the first time tonight, Molly’s face grew animated with disbelief. She bit on her lip, mulling over this latest snippet. “You went out with Emma D’Santi! Oh my God, that’s so amazing.”

Rory laughed, shaking his head at her reaction.

“Well, it was a long time ago, before we were famous.” He shook his head, laughing at Molly’s incredulous expression. “The trouble with you is that you’re far too easily impressed.” He glanced at his watch as he undid his bow tie, tossing it aside on the table. “Christ, is that the time?”

“Oh yes, I should be going,” said Molly, looking uncomfortable as she gathered up her handbag from the floor.

“Nonsense.” Rory jumped out of his seat and went over to the huge stainless steel fridge-freezer, opening the door with a flourish. “It’s only just champagne time.” He pulled out a bottle and held it up toward Molly. He didn’t want her to leave just yet. Or anytime soon.

 

Molly had learned more about Rory in the past hour than she had in all the time she’d spent in meetings trying to coax information from him. He hadn’t needed to answer her question about Emma—his falsely nonchalant manner, the way his strong jawline tightened at the mention of her name, had told her everything she needed to know. Was an ex-centerfold model and now soap actress the reason Rory had such problems with commitment?

Whatever the issue, tonight had only served to prove to Molly that however much she might want to help Rory, she’d taken her search for his bride as far as she could go. She simply didn’t have an endless supply of the right type of candidate to match Rory’s exacting requirements. His lifestyle was so far removed from that of most of her clients that it was unreasonable to expect to find someone who would willingly take on everything that went along with that celebrity lifestyle. At face value, it sounded wonderful, the fame and acclaim, the money and the glamour, but it would take a special type of person to want to take on all those pressures.

She would have to tell Rory they would need to sever their business relationship. But that was for another time. Tonight it was all about celebrating his success and she’d been delighted to be a part of that. It wasn’t quite what she expected, eating burgers and chips in Rory’s luxury apartment, but she wouldn’t have missed the experience for the world.

She hoped that Rory would come to the same conclusion about the marriage bureau, that it wasn’t the right option for him, but if not she’d be willing to have that conversation when the time was right.

Despite being feted and adored by millions of people around the world and seemingly having it all—good looks, charm and talent—she’d sensed a deep loneliness within Rory that all the film premieres and parties in the world wouldn’t be able to fill. He couldn’t wait to get away from the event tonight and despite seeming to know everyone there, he hadn’t shared a genuine connection with any of them.

There was no doubt that Rory needed a good woman at his side. But Molly wasn’t the right person to help him find her. Despite his protestations about actresses, Molly suspected someone who was familiar with the film industry might be a better fit for Rory. Someone who knew the demands and pressures, someone who wouldn’t be threatened by the fact that Rory would be working away a lot of the time, constantly surrounded by good-looking women.

Rory handed her a flute of champagne with a smile on his face.

“So that’s my excuse. What’s yours?” He sat down beside her and swung his long legs up on the coffee table. Bella took the opportunity to sneak beneath him and flopped onto the floor with a sigh, looking up at Molly with sorrowful eyes.

“Sorry?”

“Well, that’s why I’m swelling the numbers of the happy band of singletons, but what about you?”

He tilted his head to one side, an inquiring look on his face. His proximity and the waft of lemon-scented aftershave reaching her nostrils made her stomach swirl. That look was the one she’d seen him practice on Carey in the film tonight, and her character hadn’t stood a chance, she’d fallen in love with him in a trice. It would be all too easy, realized Molly, to do the same. How many women had done so in the past, she wondered? All those numerous flings he’d mentioned, how many of those women had walked away unscathed once Rory no longer had use for them? Not many, she doubted.

The intensity of his gaze upon her face now sent a ripple of longing through her body. Oh God. She really needed to be going home soon.

He’d asked about her love life before, in a teasing manner, and she’d always been able to deflect the question with a vague reply, deeming it irrelevant when she was more concerned with finding him a partner, but tonight there’d been a subtle shift in their relationship. It wasn’t a date, obviously, but there were the definite beginnings of a tentative friendship there. And he’d opened up to her for the first time in months. Didn’t she owe him the same in return? As a friend.

“Well, there isn’t much to tell. There isn’t anyone special at the moment but that’s because I’ve been too busy building up the business to have much time for anything else.” It was a convenient excuse she rolled out whenever anyone asked about her personal life, but the truth was her work was her social life. “I was engaged once,” she added, “but it didn’t work out in the end.”

“Oh, sorry about that. Well, you’re definitely in the right business for a singleton. Do you get first pickings of all the eligible men who walk through your door?”

She laughed, shaking her head.

“Everyone asks me that, but I would never stoop to such depths. It wouldn’t be professional. It’s a bit like going out with your best friend’s ex. It’s totally out of bounds.”

“Is it?” A bemused expression settled across his features.

She didn’t know whether he was referring to it being unprofessional or dating the best friend’s ex, perhaps he wouldn’t have any such qualms, but she nodded her response to both.

Hand on heart, she’d never viewed any of her male clients as potential boyfriend material for herself. She’d been able to assess them dispassionately, weighing up their qualities only in relation to pairing them with her female clients. It had never been an issue until Rory, when all her highly held values and strict rules had flown out the window. Was that why she’d been unsuccessful in her quest to find Rory a partner, because she’d allowed her personal feelings to intrude on what should have been strictly a business arrangement? Would it be such a crime to fall for Rory?

But then Rory was unlike any other client she’d had before. He was a movie star, for goodness sake. No wonder her head had been turned. It would take a woman with a heart of steel not to be swayed by his obvious charms.

“So what about that Aaron guy,” he asked, “is he not a client of yours?”

“No, Aaron’s a good friend of mine. I got to know him through Pippa first of all. He’s such a lovely guy. You know, I have offered to fix him up with one of my clients, but I don’t think he’s in the market for a relationship just yet. He’s happy as he is, although he will help out at events if we’re short on numbers.”

She tossed him a sharp look, as a reminder of the night he’d let her down and he raised an eyebrow, smiling wryly.

“What?” Molly asked.

“You really cannot see what’s under your nose, can you?”

She stuck out her chin, looking at Rory through narrowed eyes.

“I have absolutely no idea what you’re talking about.”

“I suspect the reason Aaron’s not in the market for a girlfriend is because he’s hooked up on you. You must know that he’s clearly besotted by you. You only have to see the way he looks at you. And the scarily dark vibes he gives to me every time I walk into your office. Woo, I would hate to meet him down a dark alley of a night.”

Rory was laughing, but a tug of regret pulled at Molly’s heart thinking of Aaron. She knew that he had little time for Rory, considering him an arrogant, self-obsessed playboy, but was there any truth to what Rory was saying? She recalled Aaron’s cautionary words, but wasn’t that just one friend looking out for another?

“Oh, please! Aaron’s just a friend. He doesn’t see me that way at all.”

“Trust me, I’m a man. I know what it means when a man looks at a woman like that and he’s not thinking about friendship, I can assure you.”

Could she really have overlooked the signs? It had been such a long time she wasn’t sure she’d spot that sort of sign if it was dangled in neon lights in front of her eyes.

“You know how builders never have time to get around to their own extensions,” Rory went on. “And decorators never get around to painting their houses. I wonder if it’s the same for marriage bureau owners. They’re so busy sorting out other people’s love lives they completely neglect their own.”

“Now you’re just talking rubbish.” She reprimanded him with a friendly tap on the knee, but the look that hovered between them told her they both knew he could be right.

“Take no notice,” he said, grinning. “I’m only teasing.” He jumped up from the sofa, grabbed the champagne and refilled her glass. Her mood was mellow, yet a stirring of hot anticipation fired her senses. She suspected being with Rory did nothing for her blood pressure. “So what went so wrong with your fiancé?” he asked, handing back her glass.

She sighed inwardly. She hadn’t wanted to go there. Especially not with Rory. Humiliation accompanied the champagne trickling down the back of her throat. Shame prickled at her cheeks. Only the people who knew her back when Paul did his appearing act knew the extent of his betrayal. The long list of guests on the invitation list who needed phoning and telling that the wedding wouldn’t be going ahead after all. All one hundred and fifty of them.

She hadn’t needed to tell anyone else about it when she came to London. It belonged in the past. But the irony wasn’t lost on her, a marriage broker who’d completely failed at arranging her own wedding. It wasn’t the best advertisement for her own business. She took a deep breath.

“He backed out at the last moment. Decided married life wasn’t for him, after all. Or more accurately, married life with me wasn’t for him.”

“Ouch!” Rory winced. “Although I suppose it’s better a broken engagement than a divorce. Maybe you had a lucky escape. How long were you with him for?”

“About five years,” she said wistfully, silently appreciating Rory’s muted response.

“And did you get any explanation from him?”

She wished Paul had spared her the gory details, but no, for the first time ever in their relationship he’d given it to her straight.

“He said he couldn’t marry me because he didn’t love me. Never had done apparently. Only asked me out in the first place to try and get close to my sister, Natalie. We drifted into a relationship and five years down the line he realized it wasn’t what he wanted after all. I suppose I was always only ever going to end up as second best for him.”

“Really? What a loser! You definitely had a lucky escape.”

“Yeah.” Wasn’t that what everyone had said? She’d been suffocated by well-meaning platitudes. But it was true. Better to have found out before the wedding than after. She’d been so sure about Paul, about their future together, and thought he’d felt the same way. How would she ever trust anybody again? How could she ever trust herself to get it right next time?

“And listen,” Rory took hold of her hand, interlocking his fingers with hers, squeezing them tight. “No one has the right to make you feel second best.”

She’d been doing absolutely fine up until that moment, but seeing the sympathy in his eyes, hearing the concern in his voice and feeling the strength of his hand around hers, something inside her broke. Hot tears pricked at the back of her eyes and she blinked them away.

Growing up with Natalie, she’d always felt second best. She was used to that. What she couldn’t cope with was other people’s pity. Rory’s pity, especially. She snatched her hand away.

“No.” She gave him a tight smile. “I’m perfectly aware of that.”