Arlene James - An Unlikely Match

Ellie fell back into her chair, staring at him with those breathtaking eyes. To his horror, tears welled up. “That’s the saddest thing I’ve ever heard,” she told him in a soft, trembling voice.

He gaped at her, his chest tightening, and felt the urge to rush around the desk, slip an arm about her shoulders and apologize. Then he realized that she’d manipulated him exactly as Samantha had always done. His anger abruptly turned outward again, though he did his best to subdue it with reason.

“Sad?” he echoed. “But that’s just what I’m trying to tell you. Life without romance is not necessarily unhappy. In fact, it can be infinitely more comfortable. Believe me, I know.”

“You poor thing,” she whispered, her expression melting into compassion. “Who was she? Who was it who broke your heart?”

Asher’s jaw dropped as his ex-wife’s face flashed before his mind’s eye. He saw her on their wedding day, resplendent in her white dress, even then, impatience and disappointment stamped on her face. He had ignored that, knowing that he had been less engaged in the planning and process of the wedding than she would have liked. He’d told himself that once he finished law school and passed the bar, things would settle down, but he’d soon realized that she expected more than he could ever deliver, more time, more attention, more emotion. He remembered the contempt on her face the day that she’d declared him hopeless and asked him to leave their apartment.

Quickly banishing the memories, Asher told himself yet again that the divorce had been the best thing. The marriage had been the mistake. At least he and Samantha had seen the error of their ways before they’d brought children into it. God had taught him a valuable lesson with the failure of his marriage—that his career and personality would leave him neither the time nor the inclination for love and romance.

He had since come to find that such things were not necessary. In fact, given all the acrimonious divorces that he’d seen, Asher did not understand why any mature person entertained notions of romance.

“You misunderstand,” he began, reclaiming his composure, only to have Ellie interrupt.

“God can heal a broken heart, you know,” she told him gently.

“Yes, of course, but—”

“But you must allow Him to do it,” she counseled. “You must be willing.”

Exasperated, Asher muttered, “It’s not a matter of—”

“Because He surely has some lucky woman picked out for you,” Ellie plowed on, not allowing him to complete so much as a sentence. “She’s waiting right now, the one woman in the world who will treasure everything about you.”

He lifted his eyebrows at that. “Oh, really?” he quipped with equal parts intrigue and ridicule.

She nodded, smiling. “She’ll admire all your sterling qualities.”

“Sterling,” he mimicked, amused now. She was beginning to sound like his aunts. Obviously, the old girls were rubbing off on her. “I’ve always wondered. What exactly is a ‘sterling quality’?”

She sat back in her chair as if surprised that he had to ask. “Well, in your case, confidence, kindness—”

“You told me I was hard-hearted a moment ago,” he pointed out drily.

“I was wrong,” she admitted with ease. “I said that without thinking, before I knew you’d been hurt.”

He opened his mouth to tell her that he had not been hurt but he found he couldn’t quite make the words come out.

“A hard-hearted man would not take on a case just because his aunts asked him to. Plus, you’re intelligent and good at what you do, successful, respected, honest and you obviously value family. That’s all very important to women, you know. And, of course, you’re handsome.”

“Handsome,” he repeated, realizing only belatedly that he was starting to sound like a parrot.

“The graying at the temples is very distinguished,” she went on, tilting her head. “Though it’s not really gray, is it? It’s more of a champagne color, I think. Very unique.”

He suddenly couldn’t think of anything sensible to say. “I, uh…” He shifted uncomfortably in his chair. “Um…thank you.”

She beamed so brightly that her whole being seemed to shine. His lungs locked, refusing to allow air in or out. Then she ducked her head and confessed, “You have gorgeous eyes.”

The reality of the situation slapped him fully in the face. She was flirting with him! His world tilted, leaving him clinging to the very edge of reason. Abruptly, he saw himself falling into that sanity-stealing violet gaze, and his every instinct demanded that he flee to safety. He was halfway to his feet when she bounced up, declaring that her grandfather was waiting for her at the pharmacy across the street.

“Ah.” Not exactly an intelligent observation, but it would have to do. He threw an arm toward the door, wordlessly inviting Ellie to take her leave.

She rose smoothly and walked toward the door. He hung back, snatching his jacket from the rack and throwing it on. His overcoat followed that, yet he somehow managed to catch up with her in the doorway.

Pausing there, she turned and lifted a dainty hand to brush across his striped tie. “Just think about what I said,” she whispered before moving off down the hallway.

Asher stared at her retreating figure for a long moment before he shut his eyes. No, no, he must not think about her…uh, about what she’d said. What had she said?

The door in the waiting area opened and closed, signaling that she had left the premises. He sagged against the door frame, shaking his head and sucking in huge drafts of air.

What on earth was going on? He had sworn off the fairer sex, and he’d been perfectly happy in his solitary existence. Besides, he couldn’t be attracted to Ellie Monroe. Not only was she now officially a client, she was twenty-three, too impulsive, too talkative, too…everything!

Especially too pretty.

Why, the woman was downright dangerous. Oh, she might look as innocent as lambs and sweet enough to decay teeth, but that woman was poisonous to the male population, and henceforth, he told himself sternly, he would not forget that fact. He would be on his guard—stern, disciplined, wise—just as a man in his position ought to be.

But something told him that being on his guard might not be enough to combat the charms of Ellie Monroe.

Mentally kicking herself with every step, Ellie descended the stairs outside Asher’s office to the ground floor below. She loved these old art deco buildings, but she saw nothing of her surroundings as recriminations piled on, crowding out everything else.

Could she have made a bigger fool of herself? She should have realized that Asher was not handling this case for the money. He was doing a favor for his aunts. Most likely, he would not have taken on the situation at all except at their behest. Informing him of her and her grandfather’s limited means to pay had probably even insulted Asher, and that was the last thing she’d wanted.

To make matters even worse, she had shown her hand. He knew that she wanted him to drop or stall the settlement and why—or partly why. Hopefully, he would be satisfied with that.

The saddest revelation of all, though, had to do with Ash himself. The very idea that he had given up on romance broke her heart, for him and for all the women out there who begged God on their knees for such a man, herself included. As a Chatam, he would be a responsible, fiercely loyal and faithful Christian husband, much like her beloved grandfather. Ellie liked to think that her own father would have been such a man, too, but Chart Monroe had died in a helicopter crash while on a training mission with his military unit when she was only ten years old. His death had driven Ellie’s unhappy grandmother into bitterness and her spoiled mother into paroxysms of self-pity.