Read The First Man You Meet Online

Authors: Debbie Macomber

Tags: #Romance

The First Man You Meet (6 page)

Chapter Eight

‘‘A
CTUALLY
I
WAS PLANNING
to see the play this afternoon myself,’’ Shelly admitted hesitantly. ‘‘Jill had to cancel out at the last minute.’’

‘‘It seems Janice can’t attend, either.’’

Hearing the other woman’s name, the woman Mark loved, had a curious and unexpected effect on Shelly. Her heart sank, and she felt a sharp pang of disappointment. She rebounded quickly, however, forcing a lightness into her voice, a blitheness she didn’t feel. ‘‘Listen, there’s no need for you to miss the play. I’ll call the ticket office and see about an exchange.’’

‘‘No, I will,’’ Mark offered.

‘‘That’s ridiculous. Jill really wanted to see this play and—’’

‘‘Would it really be so terrible if we both decided to attend the same performance?’’

‘‘Uh…’’ The question caught Shelly unprepared. Mark was the one who’d suggested they avoid each other.

‘‘What could it possibly hurt? You have your ticket and I have mine. It’d be absurd to let them go to waste because we’re afraid of seeing each other again, don’t you think?’’

Forming a single, coherent thought seemed beyond Shelly at that moment. After her long talk with Jill the day before, followed by the pep talk she’d given herself, she’d recovered a degree of composure. Now, all of a sudden, she wasn’t sure of anything.

‘‘I don’t think it should matter,’’ she said finally, although it did matter, greatly.

‘‘Good. Enjoy the play.’’

‘‘You, too.’’

The theater was within walking distance of her apartment building, and Shelly left as soon as she’d finished talking to Mark. He was right. Just because they each had tickets to the same play was no reason for either of them to be penalized.

So Mark was going to see
Street Suite
. It wasn’t the type of play she would have thought he’d enjoy. But the man was full of surprises. Riding mopeds on the beach, kissing so spectacularly, and now this…

Shelly’s mind was full of Mark as she hurried down the steep hill on Cherry Street. The theater was only a block away when she saw him. Her pulse soared and she wasn’t sure if she should smile and wave or simply ignore him.

She didn’t need to do either. He stood on the sidewalk, waiting for her.

‘‘You’re late,’’ he said, glancing at his watch. ‘‘But then you traditionally are.’’ His grin was wide and welcoming. ‘‘I couldn’t see any reason not to watch the play together,’’ he went on. ‘‘What do you say?’’

‘‘You’re sure?’’

‘‘Positive.’’ He offered her his arm, and she reflected that it was the kind of old-fashioned courtesy, the kind of gentlemanly gesture, she’d expected from Mark.

The usher seated them and smiled constantly as if to say they were a handsome couple. Shelly was terribly tempted to explain that Mark was engaged to someone else; luckily she managed to hold her tongue. Minutes after they’d settled into their seats, the curtain rose.

The play, a clever satire about urban life, was as good as the reviews claimed, and Shelly enjoyed herself thoroughly. Throughout the performance, however, she was all too aware of Mark sitting next to her. She found herself wondering if he was equally aware of her. She also found
herself wondering how long it would be before they ‘‘bumped’’ into each other again—and hoped it was soon.

By the end of the play Shelly felt inspired and full of enthusiasm, eager to start a new project of her own. As she and Mark left the theater, she talked excitedly about her idea for the ‘‘ocean moods’’ series. He asked a few questions and even suggested some shots. Before she realized it, they were several blocks past the theater, headed in the opposite direction from her apartment building. Shelly paused and glanced around.

‘‘There’s an excellent Chinese restaurant in this neighborhood,’’ was all Mark said. Without giving her the opportunity to decline, he gently guided her toward the place he’d mentioned.

It was early for dinner, and they were seated immediately. Although they’d been talking comfortably during their walk, Shelly found herself suddenly self-conscious. She toyed with the linen napkin, smoothing it across her lap.

‘‘I hadn’t expected to like the play as much as I did,’’ he said after a while.

Shelly thought it a bit off that he’d ordered tickets for this production, but perhaps he’d gotten them because Janice had wanted to see
Street Suite
.

‘‘It’s a little frightening the way we keep finding each other, isn’t it?’’ she ventured.

‘‘I can see how
you’d
find it disconcerting,’’ Mark answered.

‘‘You don’t?’’

Mark shrugged. ‘‘I haven’t given it much thought.’’

‘‘I’ll admit all these…coincidences do throw me,’’ she said, running her index finger along the outline of the fire-breathing dragon on the menu cover. Chancing a glance in his direction, she added, ‘‘But I’m learning to deal with it.’’

‘‘So you feel you’ve been caught in something beyond your control?’’ Mark surprised her by asking.

Shelly lifted her gaze to his, amazed by the intensity she read in his eyes. ‘‘No, not really. Well…a little bit, maybe. Do you?’’

‘‘It wasn’t
my
aunt Milly who had the dream.’’

Shelly smiled and dropped her gaze. ‘‘No, but as my friend Jill reminded me recently, no fifty-year-old dress is going to dictate my life. Or yours,’’ she felt obliged to add. Then she realized why he’d asked the question. ‘‘You must feel overwhelmed by all of this. All of a sudden I’ve been thrust into your life. There’s no escaping me, is there?’’ she said wryly. ‘‘Every time you turn around, there I am.’’

‘‘Are you going to stand up and announce to everyone in the restaurant that you refuse to marry me?’’

‘‘No.’’ Shelly was appalled at his remark until she remembered that she’d done exactly that the first time they met.

‘‘If you can resist doing that, then I think I can bear up under pressure.’’

Shelly ignored his mild sarcasm. ‘‘I’m not interested in marriage yet,’’ she told him seriously—just in case he’d forgotten. ‘‘I’m content with my life. And I’m too busy for a husband and family.’’

She hadn’t noticed how forcefully she was speaking until she saw several of the people at other tables glancing in her direction. Instantly she lowered her voice. ‘‘Sorry, my views on marriage seem to be more fervent than I realized. But I’m not about to let either my mother or my dear aunt Milly determine when I decide to settle down and marry.’’

‘‘Personally, I can’t see you ever settling down,’’ Mark said with a small grin. ‘‘You don’t have to worry. When you’re ready, you’ll know it.’’

‘‘Did you?’’ She hadn’t meant to bring up Janice, but now seemed as good a time as any to remind him—and her—that there was someone else in his life.

Mark shrugged casually. ‘‘More or less. I took a good, long look at my life and discovered I’d already achieved several of my professional goals. It was time to invest my energy in developing the personal aspects of my life. Marriage, children and the like.’’

Mark made marriage sound as if it were the next chapter in a book he was reading or a connect-the-dots picture. Shelly couldn’t stop herself from frowning.

‘‘You have a problem with that?’’

‘‘Not a problem, exactly. I happen to think of marriage a bit differently, that’s all.’’

‘‘In what way?’’

He seemed genuinely interested, otherwise she would have kept her opinions to herself. ‘‘People should fall in love,’’ she said slowly. ‘‘I don’t think it’s necessary or even possible to plan for that to happen. Love can be unexpected—it can take a couple by surprise, knock them both off their feet.’’

‘‘You make falling in love sound like a bad case of the flu.’’

Shelly smiled. ‘‘In some ways, I think that’s exactly how it should be. Marriage is one of the most important decisions in anyone’s life, so it should be a
deeply felt
decision. It should feel inevitable. It’s the union of two lives, after all. So you can’t simply check your watch and announce ‘it’s time.’’’ She was suddenly concerned that she’d spoken out of turn and might have offended him, but one quick glance assured her that wasn’t the case.

‘‘You surprise me,’’ Mark said, leaning forward. ‘‘I would never have guessed it.’’

‘‘Guessed what?’’ She was beginning to feel a little foolish now.

‘‘That a woman who gives the impression of being a scatterbrain is really quite reflective. Beneath those glow-in-the-dark sweatshirts lies a very romantic heart.’’

‘‘I seem to have a tendency to get emotional about certain things,’’ she answered, studying the menu, eager to change the subject. ‘‘I’ve heard hot-and-sour soup is wonderful. Have you ever tried it?’’

Their conversation over dinner remained light and amusing. Shelly noticed that Mark avoided any more discussion of a personal nature, as did she.

After they’d finished their dinner and Mark had paid the bill, they leisurely strolled back toward the theater. Mark offered to drive her home when they reached his parked car, but Shelly declined. Her apartment was only a couple of blocks north and she preferred to walk.

Walk and think. Their time together had given her plenty to think about.

‘‘Thank you for dinner,’’ she said as he unlocked the car.

‘‘You’re welcome,’’ he answered. ‘‘Well, good night for now,’’ he said, grinning. ‘‘I suspect I’ll be seeing you soon.’’

She grinned back. ‘‘Probably within a day or two. Maybe we should synchronize our schedules,’’ she teased.

‘‘That wouldn’t bother you, would it?’’

‘‘Oh, no. What about you?’’ She hated the way her voice rose expectantly with the question. She certainly wasn’t bothered by the prospect of seeing him again. In fact, she was downright eager to see what tricks fate would play on them next.

Mark’s eyes found hers then, and he slowly pocketed his car keys. His look was so potent, so full of emotion, that Shelly took a step in retreat. ‘‘I had a wonderful afternoon, a wonderful evening. Thanks again,’’ she said nervously.

Mark didn’t say a word as he continued to gaze at her.

‘‘The play was great, wasn’t it? And dinner…fabulous.’’ Shelly’s throat seemed to close as Mark stepped onto the curb and walked toward her.

The whole world seemed to come to a sudden, abrupt halt when she realized he intended to kiss her.
Not again
, her mind shouted.
Please hurry
, her heart sang.

Her heartbeat tripped wildly as Mark lowered his head, his mouth seeking hers. Despite the fierce battle inside her, Shelly was forced to admit how much she wanted this kiss. If for no other reason, she told herself, than to prove that the first time had been an accident, a fluke.

Only it happened again. But this kiss was a hundred times more compelling than the first one they’d shared. A hundred times more exciting.

Shelly wanted to cry out at the unfairness of it all. If a man’s kiss was going to affect her this acutely, why did it have to be Mark Brady’s?

He broke away from her reluctantly, his warm breath fanning her cheek. His eyes were filled with questions, filled with surprise. Shelly wasn’t sure what her own eyes were saying to him. She didn’t even want to know.

‘‘Take care,’’ he whispered as he turned away.

S
HELLY STAYED
home from work on Monday. She wasn’t sick, just confused and puzzled. Nothing about her relationship with Mark seemed to make sense. He was everything she
didn’t
want in a man—and everything she did.

Shelly didn’t realize how despondent she was until she found herself standing barefoot in front of her closet, carrying on a conversation with Aunt Milly’s wedding dress.

‘‘I’ll have you know I had a perfectly good life until you arrived,’’ she muttered disparagingly. ‘‘Now it seems
my whole world’s been turned upside down.’’ She slammed the door closed, then jerked it open. ‘‘No wonder Mrs. Livingston’s cat wouldn’t go near you. You’re
dangerous
.’’

Chapter Nine

‘‘T
HE PLAY WAS GREAT
,’’ Shelly told Jill over coffee Wednesday afternoon. She’d stopped off at PayRite, hoping Jill could get away for lunch. ‘‘Even Mark—’’

‘‘Mark?’’ Jill’s coffee cup hit the saucer with a clang. ‘‘He was at the play?’’

Shelly nodded sheepishly. ‘‘I guess I forgot to mention I ran into him, didn’t I? Actually he called me first and since we both had plans to attend the same performance, we decided to go together.’’

‘‘Is there anything else you haven’t told me?’’ Jill’s eyes narrowed astutely.

Shelly tried to hide her uneasiness behind a relaxed shrug, but how well she succeeded in fooling Jill remained to be seen. ‘‘We had dinner afterward…as friends. It didn’t mean anything. I did tell you he’s engaged, didn’t I?’’

‘‘
Unofficially
engaged.’’ Jill was studying her closely and Shelly felt distinctly uneasy under the scrutiny.

‘‘We’ve been friends for a long time,’’ Jill reminded her. ‘‘In some ways I know you as well as I do myself. There’s something troubling you.’’

Shelly nodded, knowing it wouldn’t do any good to hide the truth from Jill. Her need to confide in a sympathetic, understanding person was the very reason for her impromptu visit to Jill’s workplace. Lunch had been a convenient excuse.

‘‘You won’t believe this,’’ Shelly said, cradling the warm coffee cup in both hands and keeping her gaze lowered. ‘‘I can hardly believe it myself.’’

‘‘You’re falling in love with Mark.’’

Shelly’s gaze shot upward. ‘‘It shows that much?’’

‘‘No,’’ Jill said softly. ‘‘But you look like you’re about to break into tears.’’

‘‘If I wasn’t so darn irritated I would. Good grief, think about it. Can you imagine two people less suited to each other? Mark is so…so responsible…’’

‘‘So are you.’’

‘‘Not in the same way,’’ Shelly argued. ‘‘He’s so sincere and…’’

‘‘Shelly, so are you.’’

‘‘Perhaps, but I’m such a scatterbrain. I’m disorganized and always late and I like to do things my own way. You know that better than most.’’

‘‘I prefer to think of you as creative.’’

Shelly tossed Jill a smile of appreciation. ‘‘That’s the reason you’re my best friend. I don’t mind telling you, Jill, I’m worried. Mark Brady may be the Rock of Gibraltar, but I sincerely doubt he’s got an original thought in his head. Everything is done by the book or according to schedule.’’

‘‘You need someone like Mark in your life,’’ Jill returned kindly. ‘‘Don’t look so shocked. It’s true. The two of you balance each other. He needs you because you’re fun and crazy and imaginative, and you need him because he knows his times tables by heart and will remind you when it’s time for meals.’’

‘‘The problem is, Mark’s the type of man who would expect a woman to
cook
those meals.’’

Jill chuckled.

‘‘If the fates are determined to match me up with someone,’’ Shelly moaned, ‘‘couldn’t it be with someone other than an accountant?’’

‘‘Apparently not.’’

‘‘What really angers me about this is that I allowed it to happen. The first time he kissed me—’’

‘‘He
kissed
you?’’ Jill feigned a look of horror.

Shelly ignored it. ‘‘Yes. A couple of times. It’s only natural—our being curious about each other, don’t you think?’’

‘‘I suppose,’’ Jill said quickly, no longer teasing. ‘‘So tell me what happened.’’

‘‘Fireworks bigger than the Fourth of July. I’ve never experienced the feelings I do with Mark, and all because of a simple kiss. I can’t even begin to imagine what would happen if we ever made love.’’

‘‘And does Mark feel the same thing?’’

‘‘I—I can’t speak for him, but I think it must be equally disturbing for him. He certainly looked as if he’d been taken by surprise.’’

‘‘How do you get along with him otherwise?’’

‘‘Fine, I guess.’’ Shelly paused long enough to take a sip of her coffee. ‘‘I’m sure I amuse him. But someone like Mark isn’t looking for a woman to entertain him, any more than I’m looking for a man to balance my checkbook.’’

‘‘His opinion of you has mellowed, hasn’t it?’’ Jill asked, then answered her own question. ‘‘There was a time when he thought you were a little bizarre, remember?’’

Shelly did, all too well. ‘‘At first I thought he was about as exciting as oatmeal, but I’ve altered my opinion of him, too.’’

‘‘So what’s the problem?’’

‘‘I don’t
want
to fall in love,’’ Shelly said pointedly.

‘‘I’ve got bigger plans for my life than to tie myself down to a committed relationship right now.’’

‘‘Then don’t. It shouldn’t be that difficult. Decide what you want and ignore everything else. There’s no law that says you have to fall in love this minute. For that matter,
no one can regulate when and who you marry, either. Not even your aunt Milly.’’

Jill was saying everything Shelly wanted to hear. Everything she needed to hear. But it didn’t make any difference; her heart was already involved. If she could forget she’d ever met Mark, she would. But it was too late. She was in love with him. With Mark, who was in love with someone else. Mark, who saw love and marriage as goals to be achieved within a certain time frame. He’d probably never done anything impulsive in his life.

A lasting relationship would never work between them. If he wasn’t smart enough to figure that out, she was. Something had to be done and soon, and Shelly knew it would be up to her to do it.

S
HELLY DIDN’T HAVE LONG
to wait before she saw Mark again. They met at the main branch of the Seattle Public Library Wednesday evening. She was returning ten overdue books. Six months’ overdue. The library had sent her three warnings, each one progressively less friendly.

She was half-afraid the buzzer just inside the library entrance would go off the moment she walked through the hallowed doors and armed officers would haul her away.

‘‘I wondered how long it would take for us to find each other again,’’ Mark said, strolling up to her at the counter. She’d seen him almost immediately and tried to pretend she hadn’t.

Shelly acknowledged him with a quick nod and ordered her heart to be still. She managed a small smile. ‘‘Hello again,’’ she said, drawing the checkbook out of her purse. The fine for the books was sure to be monstrous. It might be cheaper to buy them.

Mark set the two volumes he was borrowing on the counter. Shelly noted the titles—
Tools for Time Management
and
The State of the Language
, and groaned in
wardly. To someone like her accountant friend, these books were probably easy reading. Her own tastes leaned more toward mystery and romance, with a little nonfiction.

‘‘Have you got time for a cup of coffee?’’ Mark asked as she wrote out the check to pay her fine.

Her heart was gladdened by the invitation, but she knew she had to refuse it. Before he could say or do anything to change her mind, she shook her head. ‘‘Not tonight, thanks.’’

His smile faded as though her refusal took him by surprise. ‘‘You’re busy?’’

She nodded, smiling at the librarian as she tore the check free and handed it to the woman, who smiled pleasantly in return. It had been a civilized exchange, Shelly thought, and her library card had
not
been confiscated, despite her transgressions.

‘‘A date’s waiting for you?’’

It took Shelly a second to understand that Mark was referring to her refusal to join him for coffee.

‘‘Not exactly.’’ She turned away from the counter and headed toward the exit. To her surprise Mark followed her outside.

‘‘Something’s wrong,’’ he said, standing at the top of the steps. She stopped her descent and stood below him, looking up. Pretense had never suited Shelly; she was too innately honest to hide her feelings. ‘‘Mark, I think you’re a very nice man—’’

‘‘But you don’t want to marry me,’’ he concluded for her. ‘‘I’ve heard that line before, remember? Actually half the mall heard it, too.’’

‘‘I’ve already apologized for that. It’s just that…all right, if you must know, I’m beginning to like you…really like you, and frankly that terrifies me.’’ She stood facing him, two steps below.

Her candid response seemed to unnerve him. He
frowned and rubbed the side of his jaw. ‘‘I know what you mean. I’m beginning to like you, too.’’

‘‘See!’’ she cried, tossing her hands in the air. ‘‘If we don’t take care of this problem now, heaven only knows what could happen. It has the potential of ruining both our lives. We’re mature adults, aren’t we?’’ At the moment, though, she felt singularly lacking in maturity.

All her senses were clamoring, telling her to enjoy their brief time together and damn the consequences. It was what her heart wanted, but she couldn’t allow her life to be ruled by her heart. Not when it came to Mark.

‘‘Liking each other doesn’t have to be a federal crime,’’ he said, advancing one step toward her.

‘‘You’re right, of course, but I know myself too well. I could easily fall in love with you, Mark.’’ She didn’t dare admit she already had. ‘‘Before we knew how it happened, we’d be spending more and more time with each other. We might even become seriously involved.’’

He remained suspiciously silent.

‘‘You’re a wonderful man. If my mother were to meet you she’d be shouting from the rooftops, she’d be so grateful. For a while I might convince myself that we could really make something of this relationship. I might even consider taking cooking classes because you’re the kind of man who’d expect a woman to know how to make a roast and mashed potatoes.’’

‘‘It’d probably come in handy someday,’’ he admitted.

‘‘That’s what I thought,’’ she murmured, disheartened. ‘‘I’m not a traditional woman. I never will be. The only time I ever baked a pie I ended up throwing it in the garbage disposal—and it broke the disposal.’’

‘‘A pie ruined your garbage disposal?’’ Mark repeated, then shook his head. ‘‘Never mind, don’t bother explaining how that happened. It seems to me you’re getting ahead
of yourself here. You’re talking as though coffee together means a lifetime commitment.’’

Shelly wasn’t listening. ‘‘What about Janice?’’ she demanded. ‘‘She’s the one you should be inviting to coffee, not me.’’

‘‘What’s Janice got to do with this?’’ he asked impatiently.

‘‘Janice,’’ Shelly snapped, her own temper short. ‘‘The woman you’ve decided to marry. Remember her? The love of your life? The woman you’re unofficially engaged to marry.’’

‘‘It’s not unofficial any longer,’’ Mark explained evenly.

‘‘Oh great, you’re taking me out to dinner, kissing me and at the same time picking out engagement rings with another woman.’’ She had to admit he’d never lied to her about his relationship with the faceless Janice. From the beginning he’d been forthright and honest about the other woman. But it hurt, really hurt, to learn that he was going ahead with his plans to marry Janice.

For a moment she’d been shocked into stillness. ‘‘Then…’’ She struggled to force some enthusiasm into her voice. ‘‘Congratulations are in order. I wish you both the very best.’’ With that she turned and bounded down the stairs, taking them recklessly fast.

‘‘Shelly!’’

She could hear Mark calling after her, but she ignored him, desperate to get away before the lump in her throat made it impossible to breathe. Tears had formed in her eyes and she cursed herself for being so ridiculous, for caring so much. Her vision blurred and she wiped a hand across her face, furious with herself for the lack of control. This marriage was what she’d hoped would happen. What she wanted for Mark.
Wasn’t it?

‘‘Shelly, for heaven’s sake, will you wait?’’

When she reached the bottom of the steps, Shelly moved
quickly into a side street, hoping to disappear in the crowd, praying Mark wouldn’t pursue her.

She thought she’d escaped until a hand on her shoulder whirled her around.

‘‘Shelly, please listen,’’ Mark pleaded breathlessly, his shoulders heaving with the effort of catching up with her. ‘‘The engagement isn’t official, because there isn’t an engagement. How could I possibly marry Janice after meeting you?’’

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