“And?” Tiffany asked.
“And what?” he teased her.
“Joe, I’m gonna kill you,” she threatened. “Gimme the details!”
“The guy has to get a wife before he’s forty or, like Ashley, he loses everything. Crazy thing is, he’s the one who made his father’s firm so profitable, but the family is very old-school. When the old man died he gave a quarter mil to each of his six daughters; set his wife up in style; and then the bulk of it went to the son. With a catch, of course: If the son doesn’t marry by forty it all gets sold and divided among the women. The sisters are even now looking for a buyer for the business,” Joe said.
“Nice girls,” Tiffany remarked. “Filled with sisterly love. So how come the brother is turning forty and isn’t married? Is he gay?”
“No. Just a workaholic. There’s never been time for him to get into a relationship that could thrive. If he isn’t working, he’s flying all over the world drumming up work for his business. He loves what he does, and Ray says he does it very well.”
“Does what well?” Tiffany wanted to know.
“Oh, I didn’t tell you? He’s Restorations and Replications, R&R. You’ve heard of them, Tiffany. They’re the fancy antique restorers, and they also design furniture that looks like it’s antique for all that new money that wants to look old and respectable,” Joe told his wife. “His father had a good restoration business going, but it was the son who saw the need for new antiques. And it’s all American-made, although he has brought expert artisans over from Europe and Ireland to teach his employees the old tricks of the trade. He’s one smart guy. Just like Ashley, he saw a need and stepped in to fill it. It’s made him a multimillionaire. He won’t lose it for lack of a wife.”
“He could get one of those mail-order brides, couldn’t he?” Tiffany said.
“Nah, not his style. With the people he associates with in his business, he’ll want someone who is educated, can speak intelligently with his clients, and will be a terrific hostess. And Kimbrough Hall would be a wonderful place for him to entertain. We both know that Ashley isn’t going to give up her home for anyone, and besides, he’d be nuts not to want to live there. It’s a perfect venue for a guy in his field.”
“So now all we have to do is get Ashley to agree,” Tiffany said.
“No, first Ray speaks with his client, and then if the man is agreeable we set up a meeting with our client. They might not even like each other, Tiff, and they have to at least like each other to make this work,” Joe said to his wife.
“How could any man not like Ashley?” she replied. “She’s gorgeous.”
“A lot of men have liked her, but for all the wrong reasons,” Joe reminded her. “At least with this guy we start with an even playing field. She’s rich; he’s rich. So we know he’s not after her money. Still, I’m going to run a check on him just to be certain. We can’t be too careful, and Ashley has got to be protected.”
“When will you talk to Ray again?” Tiffany wanted to know.
“This afternoon,” Joe replied. “Don’t call Ashley.”
“Why not?” Tiffany wanted to know.
“Because until Ray’s client says he is willing to meet her we have nothing. I don’t want her getting her hopes up, only to dash them. She’s had enough sorrow these last few years. She doesn’t need to be rejected by someone who hasn’t even met her.”
“You’re right,” Tiffany agreed. “Poor kid. Losing her grandfather and her brother, having three weddings called off. It’s a lot to bear. It’s a wonder she’s so normal and nice, isn’t it?” And then Tiffany remembered Ashley’s remark yesterday afternoon about someone’s cute butt getting whipped. She almost giggled as she considered what kind of fantasies Ashley must have on the Channel. But hell, if a little naughty spanking took the edge off of her nerves, so what? That was the beauty of the Channel: Nothing was real. She turned to her husband. “You playing cards tonight with your group?”
“Yeah. We’ll have dinner at the club and play there,” Joe told her. “You don’t mind being alone, do you?”
“Of course not,” Tiffany said with a smile, and she patted his shoulder. “You need your nights out.”
And I need the Channel
, she was already thinking. Tonight she was going to let the young sultan spank her, and then he would fuck her brains out. No. She didn’t mind Joe’s card playing after work at all. She welcomed it!
R
yan Finbar Mulcahy winked at the receptionist in the foyer of Alexander, Stoddard, and Kingsley as she told him to go right into Mr. Pietro d’Angelo’s office. He heard her giggle behind him, and he grinned. She was petite and blond and cute. Just the kind of girl he’d marry if she weren’t so damned young. Was she even twenty? he wondered. And he winced, realizing that the receptionist was probably young enough to be his daughter. He had nine months to go until he was forty. It was a sobering thought.
“What’s up, Ray?” he asked as he lowered his long frame into a chair opposite the desk. “What’s so urgent that you have to drag me from work?”
“Your mother called me a few weeks ago,” Ray began. “She and Frankie don’t like what your other sisters are doing. You know they’ve lined up a buyer for R&R, don’t you? What the hell is the matter with them, Ryan? Wasn’t what your dad left them enough? Unfortunately there’s no way around your dad’s will.”
“What did Ma want?” the younger man asked.
“To arrange a marriage for you,” Ray said, watching to see what Ryan’s reaction to this news would be.
“So she did it, did she?” Ryan Finbar Mulcahy laughed. “She’s been threatening to sic a matchmaker on me for a year now. She says she and Dad were matched and made a go of it. There’s no reason I can’t. And Frankie’s in on it too? What a sweetie that baby sister of mine is,” he said.
“I found a possibility,” Ray continued, and swallowed a chuckle at the look of surprise on his client’s face. “She’s got the same problem you have—a will that says she’s got to marry or lose it all. You’ve got enough in common to at least meet. I want to arrange it.”
“Look, Ray, if I can’t drum up enough money to buy the business from the estate, then I’ll start all over again, and screw my sisters,” Ryan said stubbornly. “Five spoiled little bitches. Only one of them worth anything is Frankie.”
“Don’t be a fool,” Ray replied. “R&R has a reputation. You willing to give that reputation away to someone else? Especially a son of a bitch like Jerry Klein? Right now he’s the high bidder, and he’s going to stay the high bidder because he wants R&R. And all you have to do to save your ass is get married.”
“I don’t like being told what to do,” Ryan answered irritably.
“Funny thing—neither does my cousin Joe’s client. But unless she gets married by the time she’s thirty-five she loses everything she’s worked for, because her grandfather thought a woman had to be married to be happy and safe,” Ray said candidly. “You see? Already you’ve got similarities.”
“She’s thirty-five?”
“She’s thirty-three.”
“Why isn’t she married? Fat? Ugly? Warts?”
“She’s been engaged three times, and each time it’s fallen through,” Ray remarked.
“Difficult, huh? A diva.”
“No, unlucky. She’s smart in business, but not in men. They wanted her money,” Ray said. It was the easiest explanation to offer right now.
“Is she pretty?” Ryan asked.
“I wouldn’t know. I’ve never met her. She lives in a small town called Egret Pointe about a hundred miles from the city,” Ray said.
“What kind of business?” Ryan wanted to know.
“She has a lingerie shop,” was the answer.
“Doesn’t sound like big business to me.”
Ray chuckled. “It’s upmarket, many one-of-a-kind things. She started small; then came the catalog, and now she’s opening two new stores—one here in town, and the other in an elegant suburban mall. It’s called Lacy Nothings.”
“Geez, Frankie buys stuff from that catalog. It’s as expensive as hell, and since there’s very little of it I don’t know why,” Ryan said.
Ray laughed. “My cousin—he’s her lawyer—says she’s a very nice girl. What could it hurt to meet her? She’s got no illusions about any arrangement that you two would make. Joe says her house is gorgeous and filled with antiques. It would be a great place to entertain, and she would be a terrific hostess. She’d know how to speak to your fancy-shmancy clients, Ryan. Her grandfather was probably one of your father’s clients.”
“Has Miss Lingerie Shop got a name?” Ryan asked. The truth was, his interest was piqued. The girl Ray was describing was young enough to be a mother, and he did want kids; and she probably had people running her business for her, so she could be a wife and mother. She had her own money. Her own house. And she needed to get married in order to keep them. Actually it could be a perfect solution to his problems too.
“Her name is Ashley Kimbrough,” Ray said.
“Pretty name,” Ryan allowed. “So when do you want to set up this meeting?”
Ray smiled. “Let me talk to Joe. You’re not due to fly off anywhere soon, are you? I know your schedule is pretty frantic these days.”
“I’ll make time, and no, I’m not going anywhere at the moment,” Ryan said. “Why don’t we make our first meeting in Egret Pointe. Miss Lingerie—Ashley—would probably be a bit more comfortable there than here,” he suggested.
“Thoughtful,” Ray teased him. “Shows your sensitive side.”
“Bite me!” Ryan shot back, and then he unfolded himself from the chair. “If that’s it, I gotta go. Bill me for the time.”
“Bite
me
!” Ray laughed. “You’re going to get a big fat bill from ASK when this is all over, buddy. I may even get the senior partners to start up a new department. Matchmaking for Millionaires.” And he laughed harder as he waved Ryan from his office. Then, clicking his intercom button, he said, “Nancy, get me Joe in Egret Pointe.” And a minute or two later his assistant signaled him, and he picked up the phone. “Joe, Ray. We’re coming shopping. Any one day better for you than another?”
Joe Pietro d’Angelo masked a deep sigh. “Where do you want to meet?” he said.
“Ryan wants to come out to Egret Pointe,” Ray answered him. “He thought it might be easier on Ashley. Nice, huh?”
“Yeah, very nice,” Joe acknowledged. “We could make it Friday, and you and Rose could stay the weekend with Tiff and me.”
“Sure, why not? I can get Ryan back without having to go into town myself,” Ray said. “Yeah, Friday. Eleven a.m. okay with you?”
“Hang on, and let me call Ashley,” Joe replied. He pulled his cell from his pocket and dialed Lacy Nothings. “Morning, Nina. Would you put Ashley on, please? You still there, Ray?”
“I’m here,” his cousin’s voice responded.
“Ash, listen, my cousin and his client would like to meet here in our offices on Friday at eleven. That okay with you?”
“So soon? Gee, Joe, this guy must really be desperate,” Ashley said.
“No more so than you, honey. Bring a sandwich and eat with Tiff and me in an hour. I’ll fill you in, okay? Eleven Friday, then?”
“Why not?” Ashley said. “Best to get it over with. See you in an hour.”
Joe flipped the cell shut and turned back to his office phone. “Okay, we’re on, buddy. I’ll see you Friday.” Hanging up the phone, he buzzed his wife in her cubicle and waited for her to come in, and when she did he said, “We’ve got a first meeting Friday.”
Tiffany clapped her hands together. “That’s just terrific, Joe.” And throwing her arms around his neck she gave him a quick kiss. “Now,” she said, stepping back, “tell me all about the guy. Is he tall, dark, and handsome? Does he have family? What’s his name? Give! I want to know everything.”
“Ashley is coming over to have lunch with us,” Joe said. “I’ll tell you both everything I know then, and not before,” he told her.
Tiffany shrugged her shoulders. “I’m not happy,” she said glowering.
He grinned. “Go get a chocolate bar,” he teased her.
“I’m going to need a quarter-pound box of Godiva to bring my mood back up,” she grumbled. “Or maybe a bag of truffles.” Tiffany considered. But she waited because there was no other choice until noon, when Ashley arrived carrying a carton of Columbo Light Key Lime Pie yogurt, and a little silver spoon. “You keep a silver spoon in your desk?” Tiffany said, impressed. “Now that is cool.”
They were in the little conference room of the firm. It had big windows that overlooked Main Street with its big trees lining it. Rick had come in to listen and, spreading their lunches on the big table, which was an elegant old door covered with a glass top, they all now turned to Joe, who was thoroughly enjoying a meatball hero from the local pizza place.
“Nobody makes sauce like Angelo,” he said, licking his lips.
Ashley dipped her spoon into the pale green yogurt.
“Yeah,” Rick agreed. “He got the recipe from his grandmother in Rome.”
Tiffany fished a crouton from her salad and ate it. “Talk,” she said.
Joe took another bit of his hero and then, grinning, put it down, looking at Ashley. “His name is Ryan Finbar Mulcahy. He owns an outfit called R&R—Restorations and Replications, Inc. His father started the business and did nicely. Ryan graduated college and took over the company to build it into a multimillion-dollar establishment. But it was still the old man’s company. When he died a couple of years ago the old man left each of his daughters a quarter mil, and the wife the house and a good income. Everything else went to Ryan on the proviso that he be married by the time he was forty. He’ll be forty next spring, and he hasn’t even come close to getting married,” Joe said.
“What’s the problem?” Ashley wanted to know.
“The guy is a workaholic,” Joe said. “His old man was the craftsman, the artisan. Ryan knows what good is, but his head is more for the business. It was his idea to add the reproductions branch of the business. There’s a lot of money out there today, and new money wants to look like old money. But there are only so many antiques to go around. So R&R designs seventeenth-and eighteenth-century repros that look every bit as good as the real thing. The business is booming. And Ryan hasn’t had a moment to get a relationship going with any woman. But if he isn’t married by forty, he’s out, the business is sold, and his sisters get the benefit of the sale.”
“What if he doesn’t like me?” Ashley asked.
“What if you don’t like him?” Joe countered. “Look, Ash, life is at best a crapshoot. You toss the dice and hope you don’t hit snake eyes. You’ve hit snake eyes three times now. I think it past time for you to make craps. Ray is bringing him out tomorrow for an initial meeting. No promises. No obligations. You’re just both going to take a look at each other to make certain you’re human.”
“Let’s Google him,” Tiffany said.
“Of course!” Ashley agreed. “Now that we know his name and his business name we can look him up.”
“In my cubicle,” Tiffany replied, standing up from the conference table. “Come on, Ash. Enjoy your lunch, boys!” She hurried out with Ashley following with her yogurt.
“What do you think?” Rick Johnson asked his partner.
“I think we’ve got a shot,” Joe responded, “if they click.”
“An arranged marriage. It sounds so cut-and-dried. So loveless,” Rick said. “I thought people had to fall in love to get married. What are they going to do about the sex, I wonder?”
“That’s one matter they’ll have to negotiate themselves,” Joe said, grinning. “We can set up the prenups with Ray, but the rest of it is going to be up to them.”
“What do you think he’s like, this Mulcahy guy? Is he really so busy he can’t make time to go courting?” Rick wondered.
“Want to check out what the girls have found?” Joe said as he picked up the second half of his hero.
“And let them know we’re as nosy as they are? I think not,” Rick said. “I’ll wait till I get home to Google him. Carla’s filling in tonight at the hospital for one of the night nurses. She won’t be home until around eleven thirty. God, I hope she likes him. We gotta get Ash settled, and soon. Old Kimbrough will come out of his grave if we let his wealth go to SSEXL.”
“Then he shouldn’t have been such a smart-ass and added that clause to the will. I told him not to do it,” Joe grumbled. “Mulcahy is probably all right. Have you ever seen an ugly Irishman, Rick?”
“Yeah, as a matter of fact I have,” Rick replied. He cocked his head to one side. “Did you just hear a ‘woo-woo’ from Tiff’s cubicle?”
“Oh, my God!” Tiffany Pietro d’Angelo stared at the computer screen. “Well, he ain’t ugly,” she said. “You’re going to have beautiful babies, honey.”
But Ashley wasn’t really looking at the face on the screen. She had given it a quick passing glance to ascertain whether he was normal-looking, and then she had moved on to his biography. He had gone to Catholic school first, done his undergrad work at one of the state universities, then gotten a second degree from the Wharton School of Business.
Smart
, Ashley thought. The state school was cheap, and good for a bachelor’s. It was the grad school that had to be the best, and it was.
“Will you look at that face!” Tiffany enthused.
“He’s nice-looking,” Ashley said, “but I’m more interested in his background.”
“Nice-looking?” Tiffany said, surprised. “He’s a god.”
“Look at how fast he brought his father’s business from just a restoration house making a nice bottom line to a restoration and reproduction business with an incredible bottom line. Boy, I would love to do that myself for Lacy Nothings. Think he would give me some advice, Tiff?”