Match Me If You Can (Chicago Stars #6)(22)

“So this was a test?”

“Sort of. Maybe.”

“Don’t do it again.” He leveled his roughneck’s gaze at her. “I’m crystal clear about what I want, and Barrie—while admittedly hot—isn’t it.”

Annabelle gazed wistfully toward the doorway. “If I could put my brain in her body, the world would be mine for the taking.”

“Ease up, Dr. Evil. The next candidate is due in five minutes, and I have a call to make. Keep her entertained till I get back, will you?”

“The next—? I didn’t—”

But he’d already disappeared into a back room. She shot up, ready to go after him, only to see a stylishly dressed blonde enter. With her Escada suit and Chanel bag, she had the stamp of Power Matches all over her. Was he serious? Did he really expect her to entertain a competitor’s candidate?

The woman glanced around the bar. Despite her designer duds, she seemed unsure of herself, and Annabelle’s Good Samaritan instinct reared its namby-pamby head. She fought it for almost thirty seconds, but the woman looked so uncomfortable that she finally gave in and made her way to her side. “Are you looking for Heath Champion?”

“Yes, I am.”

“He got called away for a few minutes. He asked me to keep an eye out for you. I’m Annabelle Granger, his…” She hesitated. Saying she was his backup matchmaker was out of the question, and she couldn’t stomach saying she was his assistant, so she settled on the next best thing. “I’m Heath’s boss.”

“Melanie Richter.” The woman took in Annabelle’s khaki skirt and fitted persimmon jacket—which, next to all the Escada, wasn’t too impressive. Still, she didn’t seem judgmental, and she had a friendly smile. “Being a woman in such a male-dominated field must be challenging.”

“You have no idea.”

Melanie followed her back to the table. Since Annabelle wasn’t anxious to discuss her career as a sports mogul, she asked Melanie about herself and learned that she was divorced with one child. She had a background in fashion, along with a creepy ex who used to yell at her if she didn’t disinfect their doorknobs every day. Heath finally joined them. Annabelle introduced him and began to rise only to have his hand settle hard on her bare thigh.

She didn’t know which was more annoying, the jolt of sexual electricity that shot through her or the realization that he expected her to stay, but the pressure on her thigh didn’t ease. Melanie fiddled with her purse, looking uncomfortable again. This wasn’t her fault, and Annabelle retrenched.

“Melanie has such an interesting background.” In the spirit of fair play, she emphasized Melanie’s Junior League charity work and fashion training. Although she mentioned Melanie’s son, she said nothing about the creepy ex. She’d barely finished, however, before Heath’s cell rang. He glanced at it, apologized with all kinds of sincerity, and excused himself.

Annabelle glared at his back. “My hardest-working employee. Incredibly conscientious.”

“I can see that.”

Annabelle decided to take advantage of Melanie’s fashion expertise by soliciting her opinion about the best jeans for short women with a tendency toward full hips. Melanie replied graciously—medium low rise, boot cut to the ankle. Then she complimented Annabelle on her hair. “The color is so unusual. There’s a lot of gold in it. I’d kill for hair like yours.”

Annabelle’s hair had always attracted a lot of attention, but she took the compliments she received with a grain of salt, suspecting that people were so startled by the mess they felt they had to say something. Heath returned, apologized again, and got down to business with Melanie. He leaned in when she spoke, smiled in all the right places, asked good questions, and seemed genuinely interested in everything she said. Finally, his hand settled on Annabelle’s thigh, but this time she didn’t let herself get worked up about it. He was signaling that Melanie’s time was over.

After she left, he shot a look at his watch. “Terrific woman, but disappointing.”

“How can she be terrific and disappointing? She’s nice.”

“Very nice. I enjoyed talking with her. But we had no chemistry, and I don’t want to marry her.”

“Chemistry takes more than twenty minutes to develop. She’s smart, and she’s a heck of a lot more courteous than you and your cell deserve. She also has that class thing going you say you want. Give her another chance.”

“Just a suggestion. I’ll bet you could get further in your business by pushing your own candidates instead of somebody else’s.”

“I know, but I like her.” She frowned at him. “Although I couldn’t help but notice that she seemed to blame me for breaking up the evening, which is so unfair.”

“You’ll also go further if you at least pretend to suck up to me.”

“Here’s what’s sad. I have been sucking up.”

That country boy mouth crooked at the corner. “The best you can do, huh?”

“I know. Depressing, isn’t it.”

His amusement turned to suspicion. “What did Melanie mean when she said you should give me a raise?”

“No idea.” Her stomach rumbled. “I don’t suppose you’d consider feeding me?”