Finding Mr. Happily Ever After_Edwin Read online

  Eight

  Everything on the menu sounded good. Jazz looked over at Win. “What do you recommend?”

  “The lobster mac and cheese,” he said without missing a beat. “It reminds me of home.”

  She thought of her mom’s kitchen in their house on Long Island. “Is your mother a good cook?”

  “No. But Lou, our chef, is amazing. He’s been with my family since I was a teenager. He’s more like a favorite uncle these days than household staff.” Win’s smile softened. No doubt from affection. “I’ve been threatening to steal him away, but that would make for uncomfortable holidays.”

  Chauffeur, private chef. He probably had a housekeeper, too. Unsure what to say, she sipped her water.

  “What?” he asked.

  “My parents divorced, and my dad was never part of my life after that. No matter how many hours my mom worked, she fixed a home-cooked dinner most nights.” A bead of condensation rolled down her glass. “It’s hard to imagine hiring someone to make meals. Your life sounds so different from mine.”

  “Differences are good.” He rested his hand over hers. “Gives us more to talk about.”

  His skin was smooth and warm. No scars or roughness. These were the hands of a man who didn’t do manual labor, but why would he when he had a staff to take care of all his needs? Hers weren’t smooth like his. She had working hands—rough with callouses and scars. Her left had a burn from when she’d been baking when she was a kid. Her right showed the scars from a bike crash and clearing brush during a community service project.

  What kind of hands did the women he dated have? Perfect skin like his? That wouldn’t surprise her.

  She sighed. “Unless we have nothing in common.”

  “I doubt that’s the case.”

  She stared at their hands before raising her gaze to meet his. “Why?”

  “You were Xavier’s wife. I have things in common with him, ergo I must have things in common with you.”

  “Ergo?” His use of the word made her smile. Win was the picture of old money. She wouldn’t call him stuffy—he was too hot for that—but his refinement and mannerisms spoke to him being a gentleman, like Xavier. “I haven’t heard that word since my history professor. So what might we have in common?”

  He smirked at her from behind his water glass. “We’re both human.”

  “True, but so are over seven billion others.”

  “We live in the same city.”

  “Yes, along with over eight and a half million people.”

  The waiter came and took their orders. Not a wasted motion or word before he walked away.

  Win sipped his water. “I have a charity foundation.”

  Jazz perked up. “Really?”

  “Thought that would get your attention.” He sounded pleased.

  “It does.” Even though she shouldn’t be surprised. Many wealthy people had their own charity foundations. She wondered if Chase had ever followed through with his. That was something she hadn’t felt comfortable asking him after their breakup, though they’d remained friends. “Do you have a specific mission?”

  He nodded. “The Heart of Forrester Foundation gives out obscene amounts of money to local and national charities. We sponsor and underwrite events, also, but I’d like to be more hands-on.”

  All her doubts about him faded away. “That’s wonderful.”

  “Xavier has inspired me to do more than write checks. At least try.” Win raised one shoulder in a half shrug. “We’ll see if I succeed.”

  “Charities need monetary donations as much as volunteers, sometimes more, but you might enjoy being directly involved.”

  “Xavier said something similar.”

  “We’ve had lengthy discussions about hands-on efforts vs. financial donations.”

  Win set his glass on the table. “Are the men in your life threatened by your relationship with your ex-husband?”

  The question took her aback. “There haven’t been any men in my life since the divorce.”

  He raised a brow. “Were there many before your marriage?”

  Guess he wanted to get this out of the way on the first date. “Two serious relationships. I’m still friends with both.” It was his turn to answer. “You?”

  “One in high school. My most serious and longest relationship was in college and through grad school. I’m no longer friends with either. I’m not sure I’d have called us friends back when we were dating.” With a chuckle, he straightened his silverware, though no utensil was out of place.

  A red flag waved in Jazz’s mind. “If that’s the case, why did you go out with them?”

  “My family had certain expectations,” he said, his voice resigned. “But I learned my lesson. I’ve only dated casually since then. Nothing long term.”

  The waiter placed their salads on the table and ground fresh pepper over them.

  Jazz picked up her fork. “Does my friendship with my ex bother you?”

  “No, Xavier’s a fine man. I’m just trying to understand.”

  “Are you the jealous type?” she asked, wondering why he’d asked about Xavier.

  Win’s brows drew together. “I…I don’t know.”

  His answer seemed to surprise him as much as her.

  She stabbed a piece of lettuce with her salad fork. At least she knew what each utensil was for at a place like this. “How can you not know?”

  “I’ve always gotten what I wanted, so I had no reason to be jealous.”

  Her life hadn’t been bad, but she couldn’t say the same thing. “Must be nice.”

  “It doesn’t suck.”

  She laughed, and he joined in. “Though you didn’t get my number.”

  “No, but I persevered.”

  “You sure did.” She hoped he saw the gratitude in her eyes.

  He swallowed a bite of his salad. “Why didn’t you want Xavier to give me your number?”

  “Between you and me?”

  He nodded.

  “Xavier didn’t seem happy you’d asked him, and I didn’t want to hurt him.”

  Win grinned as if his birthday wish had come true. “I hated waiting so long to see you again, but selling InstaLove will bring Forrester a considerable profit, and here we are enjoying a meal together… Seems you’re something of a lucky charm.”

  She pictured Chase. “I’ve been told that before.”

  “I know I said one lunch, but…” Win’s tone was hopeful. His gaze, too. “If you’re game, I’d like to see you again.”

  “Yes.” The word shot from her mouth like a cannon.

  He handed her his phone and watched as she typed in the digits. As she returned his cell, his grin was cheeky. “Now I have what I wanted.”

  Her heart kicked up a notch. Maybe two.

  After eating delicious entrees and sharing a piece of seven-layer chocolate cake, they rode back to InstaLove in Win’s limousine.

  Jazz didn’t want the date to end. “Are you coming up?”

  Win glanced at his watch. “I have a conference call. Do you mind if I don’t walk you in?”

  “I don’t mind.” That he’d asked touched her. Who was she kidding? Everything that had happened so far thrilled her. He was thirty-four, older than anyone she’d dated, and somewhat intimidating given what he’d accomplished, but she’d enjoyed herself. The only thing missing was a…kiss. But one might be coming. “Thanks for lunch.”

  “You bought your own, so this doesn’t count as a date.”

  She’d appreciated him going along with that. “Next time.”

  “Yes, I’m going—” His cell rang. He pulled it out. “How’s that for timing? I have to take this, but I’ll see you again soon, Jazz Michaels. You can count on it.”

  So much for saying goodbye with their lips. “You, too.”

  Before she got out of the limo, he was on his call. She glanced over her shoulder, but he wasn’t watching her.

  As she entered the building, she hated being disappointed over not getti
ng a kiss. Silly, but at least he’d said he wanted to see her again. Maybe then, she would be the one to kiss him.

  Nine

  That night, Win hadn’t texted Jazz yet. She stared at her phone and realized she didn’t have his number. No biggie. He said he wanted to get together again. That meant he’d contact her, but when?

  She’d never been in this spot before, considering every first date had quickly led to a call or a relationship. She had no idea how to play it cool. Luckily for Jazz, her boy-crazy best friend Olivia would have the answer.

  BFF: Not every guy gets in touch the same day as the date. Some wait a specific time to not appear overeager or desperate.

  * * *

  Jazz: No one would call Win desperate.

  * * *

  BFF: Remember, he’s a busy guy. Give him time.

  * * *

  Jazz: How much?

  * * *

  BFF: 24 to 48 hours.

  Forty-eight hours later, Jazz still hadn’t heard from Win. A billionaire businessman had to have a packed schedule, but logic told her she’d been blown off. Her heart didn’t want to believe it after she’d enjoyed herself so much with him. Was she a fool to want more than the one date?

  Seventy-two hours later, Jazz was doing her best not to think about Win Forrester, but she couldn’t get him totally off her mind. That gave her an idea. She logged onto the Forrester Intranet. Every employee at the company was required to take InstaLove’s test so they’d be given a type, not to be used not for dating, though it could be if they chose, but for organizing employees into work teams with the most compatible coworkers.

  Eight of diamonds was her type. That made her most compatible with red suits and high numbered cards. She scrolled until she found Win’s name and clicked. The first time she’d done this confetti had rained down on her screen when she’d clicked Xavier’s name because he’d been deemed one hundred percent compatible with her.

  Not this time.

  An ace of spades appeared and one of the highest multipliers she’d ever seen—0.823. A high multiplier suggested the person closely matched his type and would be less flexible for change.

  Win wasn’t a match.

  He was more an opposite.

  Okay, good. She logged off.

  Jazz hadn’t totally bought into the algorithm’s success rate after she and Xavier got along great, while love and chemistry had been missing from their relationship, but this gave her one more reason—in addition to being blown off—to completely forget about Win Forrester.

  One lunch with a handsome guy who wasn’t interested in her wasn’t a big deal, even if he’d sold a company to ask her out. This wouldn’t be the first time she’d been wrong about a man’s feelings for her. With Nathan and Chase, she’d fallen for guys who may have loved her but weren’t ready for more despite giving her rings. She’d survived and would keep doing so.

  When Xavier asked if she wanted to help stuff envelopes on Monday night for an upcoming fundraising event, she happily agreed. Talking to him reaffirmed he was everything she’d been looking for in a man—no fear of commitment, a purposeful goal driving him, and a kindness that defined who he was. They’d exchanged rings and wedding vows—bringing her one step closer to that happily ever after she so wanted. If only he’d been her Mr. Right…

  Was she putting too much emphasis on chemistry? Did that matter long term? Could a person have everything they wanted in a relationship? She wished she knew. Emily might.

  Jazz: I spoke to Xavier and realized he is perfect for me in every way.

  * * *

  Emily: Except for one.

  * * *

  Jazz: I still liked being married to him.

  * * *

  Emily: But you weren’t really married. You never had sex, right?

  * * *

  Jazz: I couldn’t because I wasn’t in love with him.

  * * *

  Emily: Sorry, darlin’, but unless you have a change of heart, nothing will be different the second time around.

  * * *

  Jazz: You’re probably right.

  * * *

  Emily: No “probably” about it. Why don’t you try dating someone else?

  * * *

  Jazz: I guess I could dip my toe into dating casually.

  * * *

  Emily: I’ll see what friends of friends I have there.

  * * *

  Jazz: Thanks, but I’d rather let things happen naturally. No blind dates. No dating sites. No apps. I’m finished settling for what I can get, remember?

  * * *

  Emily: I remember. But I’ve heard dating in NYC is not for the faint of heart.

  * * *

  Jazz: I’ll take my chances.

  After work, Jazz went out with coworkers for a drink. A cute, nerdy-looking guy at the bar bought her a club soda with lime. As they spoke, she felt a spark. Not only that, he was funny and had her laughing. Everything was going great until he admitted he didn’t date and was only looking for a hookup. He wanted to go home with her, but she sent him on his way. No phone numbers were exchanged, only goodbyes. To be honest, her relief outweighed her disappointment. Maybe she wasn’t as ready to dip her toe in as she’d thought.

  May gave way to June. On Monday night, Jazz met Xavier and Olivia at his foundation to stuff envelopes. After they finished three of the six boxes, pizza and soda arrived.

  As they ate and talked about a new show on Netflix, Jazz’s cell phone buzzed. She checked the screen to see a text from a number she didn’t recognize:

  555-0172: It’s Win. How are you?

  Jazz reread the text in disbelief. She’d given up on ever hearing from him again.

  “You okay, darling?” Xavier asked with a concerned voice.

  “Yes.”

  Olivia wiped her mouth with a napkin. “Who texted you?”

  Jazz showed her the screen.

  “No way.” Olivia grabbed the phone. “How long has it been since your lunch?”

  “Too long.”

  “What are you talking about?” Xavier took the phone from Olivia. As a puzzled expression crossed his face, he stared at Jazz. “Why is Win Forrester texting you? I didn’t give him your number.”

  “He showed up at InstaLove last week to tell me he’d sold the company and took me out to lunch.”

  “And then he blew her off,” Olivia added.

  Xavier opened his mouth, but then closed it. He ran a hand through his hair. “Win doesn’t date a woman for longer than two weeks.”

  Jazz remembered the stories. “We’re not seeing each other. This is the first text he’s sent.”

  Xavier’s forehead creased. “You don’t look happy about it.”

  Jazz shrugged, even though he was correct. He might need help from Win. She wouldn’t mess that up for Xavier. “Not hearing from him bruised my ego, but I’m not replying.”

  She’d wasted too much energy on Win Forrester. No more.

  The next morning, she was sitting at her desk at InstaLove when another text arrived.

  555-0172: Have a great day!

  She ignored Win’s text and attended a meeting instead. When she returned to her office, a huge floral bouquet sat on the corner of her desk. She opened the card.

  Thinking of you.

  Win

  What was going on? He hadn’t contacted her in a week, yet had sent two texts and flowers in less than twenty-four hours. Her annoyance fueled her reply.

  Jazz: Not sure what game you’re playing after blowing me off, but please stop.

  * * *

  555-0172: Why do you think I blew you off?

  * * *

  Jazz: This is the first time you’ve contacted me since our lunch. If you’re trying to get me into bed, it’s not going to happen. I don’t believe in sex outside of marriage.

  Satisfied with her reply, she set her phone on her desk. She’d written too much, but oh well.

  Her phone rang. Win’s number flashed across the screen.

/>   A groan escaped. She should send the call to voicemail.

  Another ring.

  No doubt Win would keep trying. He was the type to persevere. She might as well get this over with. “What?”

  “I told you I was going out of the country and would be in touch when I returned.”

  “No, you didn’t.”

  “Yes, I did,” he countered. “Right as you were getting out of the limo.”

  Men. She sighed. “As I was getting out, you were on a conference call.”

  Silence filled the line.

  “Win?” she asked.

  “I meant to tell you that. I thought I had.” Regret laced his words. “I’m sorry.”

  He sounded sincere, but that didn’t change how he’d made her feel. “Apology accepted. Good—”

  “I want to see you again,” he interrupted. “Please.”

  Temptation flared. Jazz hated that she wanted to see him again. She clutched her cell phone. “I don’t think so.”

  “I would have called you sooner, but long meetings plus a six-hour time difference made that impossible. I mean it, Jazz. You’ve been on my mind the whole time.” The words tumbled out, one over the other as if he couldn’t say them quickly enough.

  “Same.” And that left her…torn.

  “Then what’s the problem?” Win spoke slower this time, but his confusion matched her own.