“Karaoke?” Jane’s eyes widened. “You sang in public? I can’t imagine.” She laughed and leaned into him.
“Neither could I, but there was alcohol involved.”
“That explains it. So what did you sing?”
“Something from Grease.”
“You’re the One that I Want.” Candy remembered how fun it had been to sing with him, almost magical, and how the kiss had made it seem they’d meant every word of that song.
“A musical? I can’t imagine,” Jane said. “I’d give anything to have seen that. Just the thought makes me smile.”
Matt laughed and Jane joined in, their bodies turned close.
“I’m sorry now I never asked you to take that ballroom dance class.” She gave him a look of warm affection. “Tell you what. You can make it up to me by coming with me to a bar association dinner I have to attend. New-officer installation. I’ll even rent your tux.”
“I don’t know, Jane.” Matt looked completely flustered.
“I know it’s tedious, but you’d be helping me out and you can tell me all about your fun vacation. Come on. You’ll wow everyone.” She looked him over appreciatively, then turned to Candy. “Good job on the new look.”
“Thanks. Since Matt’s a new VP, I thought he needed some…some…”
“Verve,” Matt filled in for her.
“Verve?” Jane said. “My my, Matt. You have changed.” She softened suddenly. “Anyway, you look wonderful. I love the contacts. I always said you had great eyes. Doesn’t he have great eyes?” she asked Candy.
“Like Greg Kinnear,” Candy said. “Or Kiefer Sutherland or…I mean…because his eyes are a strong feature, they needed emphasis.” Her words went soft at the end. This conversation made her really uncomfortable.
“So here we are together at the same luncheon,” Jane said, giving Matt a meaningful look. “It’s a small world, huh?”
“Evidently,” Matt said.
“Very small,” Jane said, holding his gaze.
Candy had to get out of here and fast. She was definitely feeling like a third wheel on this bicycle. “I’ll let you two catch up,” she said. “Looks like they’re seating people.” She started away toward the tables.
“We can all sit together,” Matt called to her.
“No, no. I’m fine.” She grinned inanely, her heart a ball of agony in her chest. They looked so good standing there together. Jane was tall enough to look Matt eye-to-eye, whereas Candy was way too short for him.
Of course that wasn’t what mattered in a couple-whether or not their heights matched. What mattered was what they had in common, which, for Matt and Jane, was just about everything, she’d bet. Candy could picture them Sunday mornings, laptops side-by-side, catching up on e-mail on their pillow-lush canopy bed in some fabulous suburban Mc Mansion.
Not that she had anything against big houses or fancy beds. Her brothers and parents were well-off and she wanted that, too. She was being childishly jealous, mostly of the familiarity between Matt and Jane-the shared jokes, the old teases, the long history, the affection.
She wanted that. A history with someone. Spending all this time with Matt had showed her that. She vowed right now to find some fun-loving guy who wanted to settle in with her in a way that was comfortable, but still lively. Stable, but full of surprises. Someone she could count on, someone strong enough to handle the occasional shakeup. Yeah.
She took a seat at a faraway table full of chatting women, but she couldn’t help glancing at Matt and Jane, engrossed in conversation, laughing together, leaning in to each other.
This was excellent in the long run. Really. An extra bonus. Her makeover had been so successful that Matt’s ex-girlfriend wanted him back. Candy was good. Just as Matt had said.
She swallowed down her envy, ignored the hollow feeling inside and introduced herself to the woman next to her. She would talk about Ledger Lite Personal, dammit. She could work as hard as she played. Even when her heart was a fist-sized lump rattling in her empty, aching chest. No way would she lock herself into a stall in the ladies’ room and bawl her eyes out.
MATT HELD JANE’S CHAIR for her, but he kept his eye on Candy, who seemed to be doing fine. She’d said something to make the woman next to her laugh. Two other women were leaning across the table to get in on the fun, too. She was okay.
Candy could handle herself. She’d smoothed over his fumbling remarks when they ran into Jane, making what they were doing sound perfectly reasonable, then left him with Jane. She probably saw it as a good deed.
She’d left emotionally, too. Slipped away, quick as a darting fish he couldn’t quite catch, no matter how close it seemed or how tight his fingers gripped it. A shiver and it zipped out of reach.
“You can sit now, Matt,” Jane said, smiling back at him where he stood watching Candy.
“Oh, uh, yeah,” he said, then sat beside her.
Jane had accepted the idea of him and Candy working together on vacation. Hell, she’d asked him to dinner right in front of Candy.
In fact, Candy, no doubt, believed they were getting back together this very moment. If he wanted to end the affair with her, this would do the trick. He remembered what Magellan had said, that he’d let Candy believe a falsehood for her own good. Here was his chance to make the lie stick.
Except what had Mr. All Knowing added? The truth shall set you free. Maybe so. He certainly had no interest in lying. Not to Candy. Not to Jane. And not to himself.
Their table mates were all talking and Jane bent close, speaking intimately to him. “I like the new you, Matt. A lot.”
“So I guess I no longer need fun to throw me a surprise party?”
Jane grimaced. “That was out of line, I know. If it makes you feel better, my therapist suggested I apologize. I am sorry, Matt. I blamed you for my own frustration, my own ennui. I made you the symbol of my being stuck.”
He fought the urge to roll his eyes at the psychobabble. “You had a point, though. I have been working too hard. This vacation has opened my eyes.”
“That’s good. Very good.” She studied him. “Sometimes a breather is all people need. A fresh perspective.” She held his gaze, offering him another chance.
They could go back to how they’d been-carefully planned weekend excursions, evenings that didn’t interfere with work. Sex in its place. Sex with Jane had been perfectly fine.
But it hadn’t been wild or unpredictable or overwhelming. It hadn’t left him breathless and aching, as with Candy.
It also wouldn’t leave him heartbroken, angry and devastated, which, he’d bet, was how things would end with Candy.
Jane shared his values. She fit his formula. She would be a fine life companion, a comfortable habit.
But love was more than a routine you got into. Candy was right about that. She’d made him want more.
The debate was irrelevant, really. If Jane had been the most scintillating woman in the world-his soul mate, if that was possible-it wouldn’t have changed a thing.
He was in love with Candy. Whether she offered a comfortable routine or an uncontrollable roller coaster, she was the woman he loved. There was no room for anyone else.
He’d lost his heart to a woman he couldn’t possibly have.
There was nothing to be done about that now, except he had to clear the air with Jane. A straight line to the truth was best. “You were right to break up with me, Jane. I think we’re too much alike to be good for each other.”
Her face stilled. She was startled by his words, but she managed a gracious smile. “But that’s a positive indicator, don’t you think? Being alike?”
“Not if you end up in a rut together.”
She studied him. “We had some inertia to deal with, but…”
“Maybe we both needed to get shaken up a bit.”
“You don’t want to try again then?” Anger and hurt were sharp undertones to her flat question.