“YOU’RE FUCKING CRAZY.”
Gideon didn’t look up from his computer. “You don’t have to tell me that.”
“And yet I’m telling you all the same. What the hell are you doing? Matchmaker? For Lucy Baudin?” Roman Bassani paced from one side of the room to the other, his restless energy irritating as fuck.
“I know we’re supposed to have lunch, but this came up and can’t wait. I’m going to have to take a rain check.” Gideon wrote down another name and moved to the next candidate on his preliminary list. When Roman paced another lap around the office, he cursed. “Sit down or get out. You’re distracting me.”
“You need the distraction. Hell, you need a goddamn intervention.” Roman threw himself into the chair across from the desk and slouched. He would have been at home in some artsy perfume ad with his brooding good looks and the way he seemed to pose without noticing he was doing it. On any other man, the affected attitude would have pissed Gideon off, but with Roman it was just... Roman. He was too honest, too brash, too comfortable in any space. It was part of what made him so good at his job—he had never met a challenge he wasn’t fully confident he could tackle.
Whether his confidence was misplaced or not was an argument for another day.
“Gideon, why are you doing this? Wait—don’t tell me. You’re not still feeling guilty because you didn’t tell her what a douche Jeff was immediately? Look, we all fucked up. You’re the only one who stepped in, and that’s something I have to live with.” He made a face. “I convinced myself that it wasn’t my place or my business.”
“Jeff’s good at spinning any situation to benefit him.” He’d sure as hell laid on the guilt and idiotic bro code heavy enough to give even Gideon pause at the time.
“Changes nothing.” Roman shrugged. “Including the fact that you are not qualified to be a matchmaker, let alone for Lucy. She’s a good girl and, damn it, she deserves a professional. I know a few in the city. I can call in a favor and get her shoved to the top of the list and wrap this whole thing up without anyone crossing any lines.”
He tried to be rational and actually consider it. He fucking failed. The line had been crossed last night and there was no going back now. “No. She asked me, so I’m the one who’ll do it. And don’t get any funny ideas, Roman. You meddle in enough people’s lives. I have no interest in being added to the list.”
“As if you’d let me.” Roman affected a sigh. “You’re as mean as a junkyard dog.”
“And you’re wasting my time. Unless you have something worthwhile to add to the search, get out.”
He realized his mistake the second his friend perked up. “Who’s on the list?”
Fuck me. “No.”
“Come on.” Roman shot to his feet, towering over the desk, and snatched the paper from beneath Gideon’s hand. His hazel eyes went wide. “Shit, Gideon. You put Aaron Livingston on here. Shooting for the stars, aren’t you?”
“She’s worth it.” He grabbed the paper.
Roman studied him for a long moment. “Interesting.”
“For fuck’s sake, Roman, don’t you have some business to buy up or small children to terrify?” He still had several hours’ worth of work to do before he met up with Lucy tonight. The address she’d texted him wasn’t far, but rush hour would be a bitch to navigate, so he’d scheduled in extra time. That didn’t mean he was going to dick around with this damn list.
His friend pointed to two names on the list. “Take Travis and David off the list. They’re fuckheads with women, though they both hide it well.”
Gideon crossed out their names. “I hadn’t heard.”
“Why would you? You don’t date, and that handsome mug of yours might have people intrigued, but it’s from a distance. People aren’t rushing to confide in you because there’s a solid chance you’ll rip them a new one for wasting your time.”
Gideon glared. “Are you finished?”
“Not yet.” Roman gave a lazy grin. “My point is that people talk to me, so using that as a resource is a smart thing to do. Aaron Livingston is as straight as they come. If that guy has any skeletons in his closet, they’re buried deep. The other two left on the list are up in the air. I’ll find out what I can and let you know.”
He fought down the need to snap back. The truth was that Roman was right. People didn’t open up to Gideon. His clients only cared that he got the job done and had one of the highest ratings in the industry. The people he placed for his clients only cared about their endgame in a company that would pay them well to do what they loved. Friends? He had them. He just preferred them at a distance.
Roman had never been able to take that hint.
“Fine. Look into them.”
“It’s charming that you think I need your permission.” Roman grinned. “I’ll come by in the next few days and let you know what I dig up.”
A call would have been preferable, but Gideon knew Roman well enough to know that arguing was pointless. His friend did what he wanted, when he wanted. He sighed. “Fine.”
“Chin up, Novak.” Roman paused. “All joking aside, if you’re going to do this, do it right. I know your history with Lucy is complicated, but playing this straight is the only way. Otherwise, there are a lot of potential complications that could arise.”
Last night had been nothing if not one long, agonizingly good complication. Even almost twenty-four hours later, he could still taste her in his mouth. It made him crave more, which was a dangerous path to walk.
Lucy wasn’t for him.
He had to remember that.
If she’d wanted him, she would have said so. Even this almost-timid version of her wouldn’t have balked at putting it out there. She was direct, as evidenced by her plan existing in the first place. But she hadn’t brought him into her office to ask him to step into the role of husband.
Husband.
What would that even look like?
Gideon shook his head and focused on his friend. “I have it under control.”
“Keep telling yourself that.” Roman headed for the door. “I’ll check in tomorrow, but in case I don’t see you before then, we still on for Friday?”
“Yeah.” They had a standing reservation in Vortex’s VIP lounge on Friday nights. It was one of the only social appointments he held consistently, despite occasionally running into Jeff there. But that asshole had started coming less and less in the years since he and Lucy had broken off their engagement. People had started to see through his charming act and called him out when he was acting like a douchebag—which was often.
“See you then.” Roman opened the door and paused. “You should bring her.”
Gideon tore his gaze away from the list of names yet again. “What?”
“You should bring Lucy on Friday. I know Aaron Livingston since we worked together last year. We can orchestrate a non-pressure meeting. You’re on your own with the other two, but I don’t think Aaron would agree to a blind date for shits and giggles.”
Since Gideon had only met him in passing, he couldn’t argue that. “Do it.” He spoke before he had a chance to think up half a dozen reasons why it was a bad idea. It wasn’t a bad idea. It was his issue if he didn’t want to see her with someone else—not hers.
He waited for Roman to shut the door behind him before he grabbed his phone. Both Mark and Liam were acquaintances he’d come across in the last few years who had seemed like upstanding guys. He’d feel them out for interest and then take the list to Lucy to see where she stood with all of it.
The knowledge that she’d likely end up with one of these men sat in his stomach like a rock. He hesitated, his contact list staring back at him. It would be the easiest thing in the world to sabotage this. All he had to do was feed some false information about Lucy and they’d say no. Or feed her false information about them to prove New York had a shitty dating scene.
“No.” He’d promised her to do his best and he’d damn well do his best. Gideon had lied to her once before and it had almost destroyed them both. He wasn’t going to do that to her again.
Fuck, he was in this situation because of what happened before.
Gideon would do right by Lucy. He’d have to be a heartless bastard to do anything else. The only option was to find her a damn husband.
No matter what it cost him to do it.
* * *
Lucy was on her second glass of wine by the time she caught sight of Gideon’s familiar form moving toward her table through the darkened room. He towered over the tiny host and the poor man kept shooting looks over his shoulder as if he expected Gideon to club him over the head. The thought made her smile and was almost enough to distract her from her nervousness.
She’d woken up this morning from the single hottest dream of her life, starring none other than Gideon Novak. It started identical to their encounter last night, but they hadn’t stopped until they were naked and in his bed, both shaking from their respective orgasms. Her body flushed at the memory and she took a shaky sip of wine.
What was the protocol for greeting a man who’d used his fingers to make her come on his couch the night before? They weren’t dating, so a kiss seemed inappropriate. They weren’t even really friends anymore, so a hug was likely presumptuous. A handshake was just absurd.
Gideon saved her from having to decide by sitting before she had a chance to stand. He shot a look at the host. He probably meant it as a polite dismissal, but it actually looked scathing. Lucy watched the man nearly run from the table. “You really have to work on your attitude.”
“My attitude is fine.”
“Without a doubt, but you have a very intimidating persona. You know most women judge a man by how he treats the waitstaff on their first date—and you would have just nixed the possibility of a second date and we haven’t even had appetizers yet.”
Gideon raised his eyebrows. “Good day in court, I take it.”
“We’re not talking about me.” She leaned forward and lowered her voice. Enjoying poking at him a little. “Though that was a very smooth change of subject.”
The corners of his lips twitched upward. “Yes, it was. We’re not here to talk about my dating prospects. We’re here to talk about yours.” He looked up as a waiter approached and she actually saw the effort he put into forcing a smile. It looked downright pained, but it was better than nothing. “I’ll have a seven and seven.” He glanced at her half-full wineglass. “Another?”
“Sure.” She didn’t drink more than two glasses often, but she’d busted her ass on today’s case and the judge had been persuaded to dismiss the entire thing. It was a coup that should have been the tipping point for her promotion, but when Rick Parker had come by her office to congratulate her, he’d made a comment about the big, broody man who’d been in to see her yesterday. Because, of course, who she was or wasn’t dating was just as important as her professional skill set.
Well, damn it, Parker’s crappy attitude wasn’t going to ruin her night.
“Tell me about the case.”
She almost refocused the conversation, but the truth was that she didn’t have anyone to talk to about it. Her sister was supportive and wonderful, but Becka had her own thing going on and couldn’t be less interested in law. Get together for drinks and chat about life and what their parents were up to? Sure. Hash out the details of whatever case Lucy was working on? Not a chance. And Gideon actually looked interested.
She picked up her wineglass. “I got the entire case thrown out today. All they had was circumstantial evidence and a bad attitude about my guy’s priors. They were so certain he did the crime, they didn’t look at anyone else. Anyone on the outside would have come to the same conclusion, but it’s always a crapshoot with Judge Jones.”
“That’s great, Lucy. Congrats.”
“Thanks.” She smiled and then took a drink. “How was your day?”
“Productive.” He leaned over and pulled a tablet out of his briefcase. “I have some things to show you.”
Disappointment coated her tongue when he slid the tablet across the table to her. They’d barely gotten their conversation started and now they were back to business. You hired him as a business decision. You don’t get to have it both ways. It wasn’t fair to ask him to go back to being her friend along with her being his client.
She picked up the tablet and found pictures of three men. She clicked on the first one—a blond guy with a close-cropped beard and a seriously expensive suit—and found a file. “‘Aaron Livingston, born May thirteenth...’” He’d compiled a list of information ranging from where Aaron was born to where he graduated high school and college—and his GPA at both. There was also a notification about possible likes and dislikes. “Wow, Gideon. You really don’t do anything halfway, do you?”
He had compiled the same information for each of the other two men. Interestingly enough, all three of them were local and had gone to prestigious business colleges, graduating close to the top of their class. All three had moved on to respected companies and seemed to be doing well for themselves.
Using their information and ignoring their pictures, she wouldn’t have been able to pick any of them out of a lineup. “This... Wow.”
“You said that already.” He frowned. “Is something wrong? I assumed that you were looking for someone in the same financial class as you, and leaning toward white-collar businessmen. That is why you came to me, correct?”
Yes, at least in theory. In reality, this whole thing was playing out much differently than she’d expected. It didn’t make a bit of sense, especially because it was proceeding exactly how she’d hoped. “No, it’s fine. They’re excellent candidates.”
Seeing them laid out like this, the situation just became so much more real. In a very short period of time she’d be sitting across the table from one of these men, rather than Gideon. She’d be torturing herself with wondering if they’d kiss her after dinner—if maybe they’d expect more to happen.
I’m not ready.
She took a gulp of her wine. “Can we get dinner to go?”