Match Me If You Can (Chicago Stars #6)(103)

Heath stood on the other side.

“Happy birthday.” He slipped his cell into his pocket, tossed her catalog down, and brushed her lips with a soft, quick kiss, which she could barely keep from returning.

“What are you doing here?”

“You look beautiful. More than beautiful. Unfortunately, your present won’t get here until tomorrow, but I don’t want you to think I forgot.”

“What present? Never mind.” She made herself block the doorway instead of opening her arms. “Dean’s picking me up in ten minutes. I can’t talk to you now.”

He moved her out of the way so he could get inside. “I’m afraid Dean’s indisposed. I’m taking his place. I like your dress.”

“What are you talking about? I spoke to him three hours ago, and he was fine.”

“Those stomach viruses come on fast.”

“Bull. What have you done with him?”

“It wasn’t me. It was Kevin. I don’t know why he had to insist on watching game film with him tonight. Don’t quote me, but your pal Kevin can be a real prick when he wants to.” He nuzzled her neck, right behind her chandelier earring. “Damn, you smell good.”

It took her a few beats too long to push herself away. “Does Molly know about this?”

“Not exactly. Unfortunately, Molly’s gone over to the dark side along with her sister. Those two women are way too protective of you. It’s me they should be worrying about. I don’t know why they haven’t figured out you can take care of yourself.”

She liked knowing he understood that about her, but she still wouldn’t give in to his smarmy agent’s charm. “I don’t want to go to my birthday party with you. As far as my family knows, you’re still my client, so it would look a little odd. Besides, I want to go with Dean. Someone who’ll impress them.”

“And you think I won’t?”

She took in his dark gray suit, probably Armani, his designer necktie, and tonight’s watch, an incredible white gold Patek Philippe. Her family would roll on their backs and beg him to scratch their stomachs.

He knew he’d boxed her in. She saw it in his crafty smile. “Oh, all right,” she said grouchily. “But I’m warning you now, my brothers are the most clueless, obnoxious, opinionated men you’ll ever meet.” She threw up her hands. “Why am I wasting my breath? You’re going to love them.”



And they loved him right back. Their shocked expressions when she walked into the Mayfair Club’s walnut-paneled private dining room with Heath at her side fulfilled all her fantasies. First they checked to make sure he wasn’t wearing high heels, then they mentally priced out his wardrobe. Even before introductions were exchanged, he was one of them, a certified member of the high-achievers’ club.

“Mom and Dad, this is Heath Champion, and I know what you’re thinking. It sounded phony to me, too. But he was born Campione, and you’ve got to admit the name Champion is good for marketing.”

“Very good for marketing,” Kate said approvingly. Her favorite bracelet, an engraved gold cuff, clinked against Nana’s old charm bracelet. At the same time, she shot Annabelle an inquisitive glance, which Annabelle pretended not to see, since she still hadn’t figured out how to explain why the man they knew as her most important client had shown up as her date.

Tonight Kate was clad in one of her St. John knit suits, the champagne color perfectly matching her ash blond hair, which she’d worn in a jaw-length Gena Rowlands pageboy for as long as Annabelle could remember. Her dad sported his favorite navy blazer, a white shirt, and a gray necktie the same color as what remained of his curly hair. Once it had been auburn like hers. An American flag pin graced his lapel, and as she hugged him, she drew in his familiar daddy scent: Brut shaving cream, dry-cleaning fluid, and well-scrubbed surgeon’s skin.

Heath started pumping hands. “Kate, Chet, it’s a pleasure.”

Although Annabelle had met her parents earlier for breakfast, her brothers had only flown in a few hours ago, and she exchanged hugs with them. Doug and Adam had inherited their blond, blue-eyed good looks from Kate, although not her tendency to carry a few extra pounds at the waist. They were looking especially handsome tonight, hard-bodied and successful.

“Doug, you’re the accountant, right?” Respect shone in Heath’s eyes. “I heard you made VP at Reynolds and Peate. Very impressive. And, Adam…The top heart surgeon in St. Louis. It’s an honor.”

Her brothers were honored right back, and the men did a friendly little shoulder slapping. “Read about you in the paper…”

“You’ve built quite a reputation…”

“…amazing client roster you have.”

Her sister-in-law used perfume like bug repellant, so Annabelle hugged her last. Overly tanned, aggressively made-up, and undernourished, Candace wore a short black strapless dress to showcase her toned arms and trim calves. Her diamond studs were nearly as big as Sean Palmer’s, but Annabelle still thought she looked like a horse.

Heath gave Candace his double whammy—sexy smile and patented dead-eyed sincerity. “Wow, Doug, how’d an ugly guy like you manage to land such a beauty?”

Doug, who knew exactly how good-looking he was, laughed. Candace gave a coquettish toss of her mahogany brown hair extensions. “The question is…How did a girl like Annabelle manage to talk a man like you into joining our silly little family party?”