Dara Girard - Perfect Match

“Or cards, or teddy bears, or baskets or...”

“Okay,” he said, flashing a crooked grin. His smile was both shy and friendly at the same time, and it was one of the reasons she’d fallen for him in the first place. She’d been attracted to his vulnerability. “I get the hint.”

Hannah wiped her forehead in an exaggerated gesture of relief. “At last.”

“How’s your dad?”

“He’ll be out of the hospital tomorrow.”

“I’m glad to hear that. I care about them like they’re my own parents.”

Hannah hesitated and then opened her door and turned to him. “They know that, and I’m sure they’d love to see you.”

“I needed to see you first.”

Hannah rested against the door frame and shook her head. “Jacob, don’t do this.”

“You know how I feel.”

“I really wish you didn’t.”

“I can’t help it.”

“You haven’t given yourself a chance to. There are many women out there, all much better than me, who deserve a great guy like you.”

Jacob hung his head a moment and then smiled at her. “Perhaps if you say that enough times I’ll start to believe you.”

“Good, because I won’t stop.”

“So I still don’t have a chance?”

“I’m going now.”

“You didn’t answer my question.”

“Because you already know my answer, and it’s not going to change. Thanks for the flowers.”

“I’d give you a whole lot more if you’d let me.”

“Goodbye, Jacob,” Hannah said and then closed the door. She set the bouquet on the side table in the foyer and then collapsed on her couch. It had been a hectic day, and she didn’t want to end it thinking about how her life may have been different if she’d married Jacob as everyone had expected her to.

She would have lived a life of privilege. Jacob Omole’s family was very politically connected in Nigeria and enjoyed state dinners and mingling with the upper crust of society both in Nigeria and among the diplomatic core in Raleigh and D.C., where his parents frequently visited. She’d started dating him in high school. Their families were close. Marriage seemed inevitable to everyone but her. When she’d completed her undergraduate degree she had opted to study abroad in Tanzania, where she worked in a microloan office helping provide needed counseling to women hoping to start a business. Upon returning to the United States she worked as a paralegal for a legal aid program in a poor town in Georgia, where she saw the law work to impact lives. She had had an opportunity to see a bigger world and had larger dreams for her life than the one others had prescribed for her. She chose to follow her heart. Now she just wished she didn’t feel so guilty because of it.

Hannah put her phone away, also dismissing the memories of Jacob. She then stumbled over to a park bench and sank into it, feeling as if she was being crushed by the weight of the world. Pain, raw and primitive in its intensity, spread through her, overwhelming her until her throat felt dry and her eyes were blinded by tears. She covered her face and sobbed.

“Hey! I didn’t expect to see you here,” an exuberant deep voice said from above her.

Her head snapped up and she saw a large, blurry dark figure. She quickly wiped her tears away so she could see him better. The light behind him put him in shadow. She squinted up at him. “I’m sorry?”

“It’s good to see you again.” He took a seat beside her.

As she brought his face into focus, she realized it was very good to see him, as well. She found herself staring into the caring brown eyes of a handsome man: the man of her dreams.

Chapter 2

He smiled. “How have you been?”

Hannah frowned, wondering why this stranger was smiling so warmly at her. “I’m afraid you’ve got me confused with someone else,” she said, hating to admit it but needing to be honest.

He shook his head. “Impossible. I never forget a pretty face.”

Hannah’s frown deepened. She was certain she didn’t look pretty now with her eyes and nose red from crying. Was he crazy? He didn’t look it. He wore a casual pair of khakis, a dark red polo shirt and a gray wool coat draped over one shoulder.

Hannah held up her hand. “How many fingers do you see?”

“Five.”

“Strange. I thought you were blind.”

Instead of being offended, the man only smiled more broadly. “A rose with a little dew on its petals doesn’t make it any less beautiful.”

“You’re a poet?”

The man studied her for a moment. “Are you sure you don’t remember me?” he asked, sounding disappointed.

“Yes,” she said. “I doubt you’re the kind of man anyone would forget.” She wasn’t flattering him. It was a certifiable fact. He was definitely the type of man people noticed. The type who walked into a room and commanded attention. Not because he was the tallest, although he was tall with broad shoulders that exhibited a sleek, taut strength; or the most handsome, although he was that, too. He had a square jaw, dazzlingly brown eyes, warm mocha-brown skin and a bright smile. He had charisma. The kind that exuded from politicians, con men, magicians and playboys. But strangely he didn’t seem to be any of those. His interest appeared sincere and genuine, and Hannah found herself falling under his spell even though she didn’t want to.

He snapped his fingers. “I know what would jog your memory.” He glanced up and saw an ice cream cart. He nodded toward it. “Let me treat you to something sweet.” He stood and took her hand, giving her no chance to protest. “Come on.”

“But—” Hannah began in a weak voice, shocked not just by his action but also by how comfortable her hand felt in his.

He stopped in front of the vendor and took out his wallet. “Order whatever you want.”

She wouldn’t say no to free ice cream, even if the man had confused her for someone else. Hannah ordered an ice cream sandwich and he ordered a cone.

His cell phone rang. He glanced at the number.

“You should get that.”

“No, it’s okay,” he said, handing her the sandwich.

“I don’t want to keep you.”

“You’re not. Isn’t it a great day?” he said, leaving the vendor a generous tip and walking in the opposite direction.

Hannah fell in line with him. “For some.”

“Who’s pissing on your parade?”

She laughed. “My sister.”

“Older, right?”

Hannah blinked, surprised. “Yes.”

He frowned. “That’s hard. Any way to get around her?”

“She blames me for everything. My parents might lose their house, and the stress of it put my father in the hospital.” Tears welled in her eyes. She sniffed and quickly blinked them away. “I don’t know why I’m telling you this, since I don’t know you.” However, even as she said the words they no longer seemed true. She felt as if she’d known him her whole life. There was an affinity. She trusted him and it felt good to talk to him, to be with him. Suddenly, she was happy that the sun was shining and she could hear the laughter of children in the distance. She noticed the bright white of the spatter of clouds as they slowly drifted across a blue sky that showed no threat of rain.

His phone rang again and he absently turned off its ringer and put it on vibrate.

“What’s your name?” she asked, eager to learn more about him.

“Take a guess.”

Hannah stroked her chin as if in deep thought. “I know.”

“What?”

“Rumpelstiltskin.”

He laughed. “That’s right. People rarely guess that on the first try.”

“Right now I could really use a man who could spin straw into gold,” she said, feeling her good mood fading.

The man playfully nudged her with his elbow. “I’m a man of many talents. What do you need?”