"No," Alison said through gritted teeth. "Nothing."

Lois's eyes shifted back and forth. "You can't just do that, Alison."

"Do what?"

"Give me work, then take it away. It's like you laid me off, or something."

"It's contract work. That's the way it goes."

"You don't have to be so mean about it."

Alison spun around. "Lois. That's not the only way you can get Godiva. You want Godiva? Go buy it."

Lois gasped. "Will you keep your voice down?" She leaned in, berating Alison with a furious whisper. "I don't buy competitor's products!"

But you sure do eat them.

"Wait a minute," Lois whispered angrily. "I know what you're doing. You're giving the jobs to Sherri. You've always liked her better than me."

Alison liked just about anybody better than Lois, but that wasn't the point. The point was that nobody else in this place would do hundreds of dollars of work on the side for a box of chocolates, so really, Sherri wasn't even an option. Assuming there were going to be more jobs, which there weren't.

"No, Lois. I'm not giving work to Sherri, either."

"Fine." Lois started for her cubicle, only to turn back with a hopeful expression. "Have you thought about postcards? Maybe those oversized ones-"

"Don't need them."

"His website could use some work."

"Maybe later."

"Magnets. People keep those. I could design you a-"

"Lois," Alison snapped. "There will be no more Godiva. There will be no more jobs. None. Never again. Do you hear me?"

Lois drew back. "Well, okay. You don't have to bite the head right off my shoulders." She started toward her desk, then looked back. "It's like I've always said. You're not a nice person, Alison. No matter what people say."

No. She was a nice person. Brandon had told her so. Many times. He might even have said so again if she'd been nice enough to speak to him yesterday afternoon at McCaffrey's. Then again, he hadn't exactly jumped up off his bar stool to greet her, either. She'd thought about casually asking Heather if he'd said anything about her, but that would be an admission that she cared either way, which she didn't.

She had Justin now. And she was sure he was going to be everything she'd ever wanted.

The next Tuesday afternoon, Brandon sat at his desk, staring at his laptop screen, almost unable to believe what he was looking at. Just to be sure, he doublechecked the numbers, but there was no mistake. His revenue minus expenses, including refunds he'd be giving to clients for matches never made, plus the eight thousand that his grandmother had in the business account when she died, equaled thirty-two thousand six hundred dollars and change.

He'd done it.

Tom came into his office and sat down in the chair in front of his desk. "So what's the verdict?"

"The money's there. Two months ahead of schedule."

"Are you kidding me? You already have it?"

"Yep."

"Your crazy plan worked?"

"Looks that way."

Tom grinned. "I swear to God I'll never question you again." He rubbed his hands together. "Hot damn. We're back in the game again."

"Uh-huh."

"And don't forget. There's still the possibility that the rezoning request will be approved for the property next door."

"That may not come through."

"But if it does, we're gonna be filthy freakin' rich."

"When's the hearing on that?" Brandon asked.

"We should know something in a few days. Hey! How about we hit McCaffrey's tonight and celebrate?"

Nope. No way was he ever going there again. "Nah. I think I'll just hang out here tonight."

"Hey, why are you being such a party pooper? This is what you've been working toward for the past four months."

"I know."

"So smile, will you? This is gonna be great."

"Justin is taking Alison on a trip to San Antonio this weekend."

Tom flicked his eyes left and right. "Uh...so?"

"I'm the one who suggested he do that."

"I know. And now your work there is done. Another successful match. Which we can also celebrate at McCaffrey's."

"No. It was a mistake. Justin is the wrong man for Alison."

"What do you mean? He looked right to me."

"She's going to be miserable with him."

"She's also a big girl who can take care of herself."

"She shouldn't be settling for a man like him."

"That's up to her."

"But I'm the one who set her up. If he's the wrong man, it's my fault."

Tom sat back, eyeing Brandon carefully. "This isn't about your responsibilities as a fake matchmaker, is it? This is about the fact that you have an incurable case of the hots for Alison that you just can't seem to shake."

Brandon closed his eyes, feeling miserable.

Tom leaned forward. "Listen to me, Brandon. I get it. I like Alison, too. But we're on the verge of something big here. If you get distracted, we're going to have problems. And you and I both know that in the end, you'd make her way more miserable than Justin ever could."

"What do you mean?"

"You're just like me. We don't stay put. We go where there's money to be made. But what does Alison want? A guy who'll do the eight to five, mow the lawn, raise three or four kids with her, and be at the dinner table at exactly six o'clock every evening. Now, is that the kind of life you want?"

Tom was right. Brandon used to say he'd shoot himself in the head if he ever found himself tied down like that. And nothing had really changed. He'd used the matchmaking business as a means to an end, and the end had come.

It was time for him to go.

"I'm heading to McCaffrey's," Tom said. "Tracy's working tonight. I think I'm starting to wear her down. Come on over if you change your mind."

"Yeah. I will."

"I'll call down to the title company and get the closing set up. If I can get an appointment for next week, is that okay with you?"

"Yeah. That's fine."

After Tom left, Brandon looked again at the figures on the screen, then closed the file. The tick, tick, tick of the grandfather clock in the hall seemed to grow louder with every minute that passed, counting off the seconds until he left this house, and this town, for good.

Tom was right. He'd known for a long time he could never be the kind of man Alison wanted, so that was off the table. But he still couldn't shake the feeling that he'd made a terrible mistake when he'd matched her up with Justin, and if she eventually married him, she'd be miserable for the rest of her life.

Stay out of it. What's done is done.

Over the next few days, he genuinely thought he'd convinced himself to do that. But by the time Friday came and he knew Alison was leaving town with Justin, he was in a dilemma all over again.

He decided he just needed to talk to her. That was all. He just needed to express his professional concern. If she agreed with him, she'd break up with Justin and find another man. If she disagreed with him, she'd stay with Justin and that would be the end of it. Then he could leave town with a clear conscience and get on with his life.

And she could get on with hers.

Chapter 24.

Alison decided the unseasonably warm October weekend the weatherman had predicted meant she'd better bring a few sleeveless shirts along, particularly if they were going to be spending a lot of time on the River Walk. She grabbed a couple from her closet, folded them, and stuck them in her suitcase. Beside them were the sexy nightgowns she'd bought for the occasion, scraps of satin and lace that left little to the imagination. She'd suffered a minor body image crisis when she tried them on, then decided what the hell. She'd also bought some sexy bras and panties, too. In the event that Justin suddenly went wild and dragged her into a hotel linen closet, ripped off her clothes, and ravished her, she wanted to look the part of a wanton woman.

If only.

I'd like to book one room instead of two, he'd said when he told her he wanted to take her away for the weekend. And if only he'd stopped there, given her a smoldering look, raised an eyebrow, or otherwise offered any reason at all for her to feel the fantasy, everything would have been fine. Instead, he'd instantly backtracked. It's not that I'm being cheap. That's not why I want only one room. We can get two if you'd rather. I just thought that the two of us could, you know, if we were in the same room together, we might be able to...

And she'd had to jump in to tell him one room would be fine, because it really was time. She'd put it off long enough. And then he'd gone on to tell her not to worry, that he wasn't taking her to the Alamo because dead people weren't romantic. Whatever the hell that meant.

For some reason, she still felt as if she needed one more date, one more opportunity for her to feel that closeness she craved. Justin was twice the man Randy was, and she'd been ready to marry him. So why couldn't she warm up to Justin?

Because she didn't want nice. She wanted hot and exciting. She wanted her heart to beat so fast it was painful. She wanted to feel a man's eyes boring into her with an I want you look that made her bones melt. She wanted to feel her blood heat up and race through her veins, telling her this man was the one.

But that was unrealistic. It was time to put those thoughts behind her.

Modest expectations.

She was zipping up her suitcase and setting it on the floor by her sofa about the time her doorbell rang. She checked her watch. Justin was early. She opened the door without checking the peephole and got a shock.

Brandon was standing there.

For a moment she couldn't speak. Even standing upright was a bit of a challenge, and she felt her face heat up as if she was standing in front of an open furnace.

"Hi, Alison," he said. "Mind if I come in?"

"Uh...no. Of course not."

She stepped aside and he walked into her living room, and as he passed by she caught a whiff of that wonderful soap or shampoo or whatever it was he used that made him smell all earthy and woodsy and brought back all kinds of nice memories.

What are you doing here? And why do you have to smell so damned good?

He glanced at her suitcase. "Heather told me you and Justin are going away for the weekend."

"Yeah. San Antonio. We're staying at a hotel on the River Walk."

"How are you two getting along?"

"Good," she said. "Good."

"Are you sure?"

"Uh...yeah. Why wouldn't we be?"

He shoved his hands into his pockets, then blew out a breath. "I'll admit it, Alison. I think I've made another mistake. I'm not sure you and Justin are right for each other."

She just stood there, stunned. "What are you talking about? Justin and I are perfect for each other."

"Are you really?"

"Yes. He has everything I've ever wanted in a man. He's responsible and hardworking, and he wants to get married and have a family."

"What else?"

"What else is there?"