Cupid's Christmas (Serendipity #3)(29)

At the end of that first day, Matthew suggested Lindsay might want to wear jeans, or something that wouldn’t pick up stray hairs like her wool suit. She nodded, and then walked out of the Kindness Animal Clinic with a broad smile—obviously he’d taken notice of what she wore.

The next morning when she sat down at the breakfast table with Eleanor, Lindsay was wearing an especially flattering blue sweater and jeans that had cost one hundred and thirty-eight dollars.

Eleanor handed her a cup of coffee and smiled. “You look lovely,” she said.

“Why it’s just jeans,” Lindsay replied, “Matthew told me to wear something comfortable.”

“How was it?” Eleanor asked, “Did you like working there?”

Lindsay nodded, “Yeah. I like Matthew too,” she pulled back the smile that was making its way onto her face and added, “I mean he’s a really nice man to work for, not my type, but really nice.”

“Your type?”

“Yeah, you know, dating-wise.”

“Oh, I hadn’t really thought of—” Eleanor was going to say she’d never imagined Lindsay and Matthew together—it might have been a lie, but it was a well intentioned one.

“I mean, he’s really handsome,” Lindsay said. “The kind of guy most women would go for, but I’ve had experience with his type. A woman who goes after someone like that is just asking for a broken heart.”

“Are you talking about my nephew Matthew?”

Lindsay sipped her coffee and nodded. “Uh-huh.”

“Matthew?” Eleanor laughed out loud. “Why he’s not that type at all. He hardly ever dates. He’s so wrapped up in that business he’s forgotten a man needs to have a personal life.”

“Really?” Lindsay helped herself to a fresh-baked biscuit and slathered it with butter.

When she arrived at the Kindness Animal Clinic a few hours later, Lindsay noticed that Matthew’s hair was a lot lighter than she remembered. He was also a bit taller than she’d originally perceived. For the remainder of the day Lindsay found herself watching Matthew. When he squatted to talk to a big dog, she craned her neck to see the round of his back and the slope of his shoulders. And, she began to find excuses to wander back to his office and ask a question, or seek a word of advice.

On Thursday morning a young woman with a blond pony tail came through the door and whizzed past the receptionist desk without slowing down. “Hey,” Lindsay jumped from her seat and followed the intruder down the hall, “You can’t go back there…”

The woman stopped and turned, “Are you talking to me?” she asked.

“Yes! Customer’s aren’t allowed—”

“I’m not a customer. I work here.”

Hearing the commotion, Matthew came from his office. “It’s okay Lindsay, Barbara’s my surgical assistant.”

“Isn’t she kind of young?”

Matthew laughed, “She’s a student. Barbara’s studying veterinary medicine.”

“Oh.” Lindsay turned back down the hall.

For nearly five hours Matthew and the student were sequestered behind closed doors. Every so often he would carry out a groggy-looking animal, place it in one of the special cages then take another dog or cat from their cage and carry it into the room. Not once did Barbara come out. That afternoon as Lindsay sat alone at the reception desk, she found herself wishing she’d studied veterinary medicine.

In that first week Lindsay noticed any number of things about Matthew, but the thing that surprised her most was what she noticed about herself—she liked it when he bent over her desk to explain something, or when his hand brushed against hers. On Friday as she was driving home Lindsay stopped for a red light and discovered herself picturing him as he stood talking with her. He was leaning back ever so slightly, his arms folded across his chest, and his head tilted at an angle that said I’m just as interested in you as you are in me. She was thinking of the laugh lines that crinkled the corners of his eyes when the light changed and the driver of the Pontiac behind her blasted his horn. “Okay, okay,” Lindsay grumbled and moved on.

On Sunday morning when she sat down to breakfast with her father and Eleanor, Lindsay peppered the woman with questions about Matthew—What kind of women had he dated? Did he have any special interests? Hobbies, sports maybe? What sort of movies did he like?

“Movies?” Eleanor laughed, “Why I have no idea. I don’t think we’ve ever once discussed movies.”

When John excused himself and left the table, Lindsay stayed. With him gone, she could see Eleanor as an individual, not an appendage of her father. Eleanor she’d discovered was a person she could enjoy talking with—as a friend, not as a stepmother. “I’m kind of rethinking this Matthew thing,” she said, “Since I’ve gotten to know him, he seems more my type.”

“I don’t know if a person is capable of sticking to the exact type they’re looking for,” Eleanor sighed. “Love, unfortunately, is blind. You go through life looking for a tall skinny man and end up marrying one who’s short and wide. But at the time, your heart convinces you he’s the one who’ll bring you a lifetime of love and happiness.”

“I suppose that could be true,” Lindsay mused.