She was in a complete dither the next afternoon when Izzy and the boys stopped by for a visit after Rip’s orthodontist appointment.
Izzy took one look at Daisy pacing around the kitchen and demanded, “What’s the matter with you?” Her boys went running out back to play with Charlie, but Izzy stood right where she was and studied Daisy with concern.
“Nothing’s wrong with me.”
“Really?” Izzy’s tone dripped disbelief. “You’re pacing the floor. You’re tearing your hair.”
True, but Daisy stopped long enough to put the kettle on. “I have to go out tomorrow night. To the Plaza.”
Izzy’s eyes widened. “A date? At last!” She beamed and rubbed her hands together.
“Not a date! Nothing like that,” Daisy said quickly. “It’s business. Well, sort of business.” She couldn’t quite explain.
“Who with?” Izzy demanded.
“A cousin of Lukas’s. An old … friend.” Which was the truth, wasn’t it? Alex had even called her “an old friend.” “I knew him years ago. He’s interested in getting married. Wanted me to matchmake for him. I said no. Now he’s got a serious girlfriend, but she’s out of town. So he asked me to go in her place.”
It sounded quite believable to Daisy.
Izzy immediately caught the snag. “Why wouldn’t you matchmake for him? I thought you loved matching people with their soul mates.”
“Yes, but—” She wasn’t going into what Alex thought about soul mates. “I didn’t feel I knew him well enough.” Daisy turned away and started rearranging the forks in her silverware drawer. A Tarzan-like yodel from the backyard turned her around in time to see Izzy’s oldest son, Rip, hurtle out of the tree at the end of the garden. He and his younger brother, Crash, were Charlie’s heroes.
“Mountain goats,” Izzy muttered. “I can make them stop if you want.”
Daisy shook her head, grateful the conversation had veered away from Alex. “It’s all right. Charlie loves trying to keep up with them. And it’s good for him to have them. He needs older brothers.”
“Not these two.” Izzy winced as Crash followed his brother’s leap with one of his own. “What’s he like? This cousin of Lukas’s,” Izzy elaborated at Daisy’s blank stare. “Your ‘old friend’? One of the dark handsome Antonides men, is he?”
Daisy did her best at a negligent shrug. “I guess.”
“Not a wild man like Lukas, I hope.”
“No. He’s not like Lukas,” she said. “He’s very … driven.”
“Is that why you’re chewing your nails?”
“I’m chewing my nails because I can’t find a babysitter. I already called your girls.”
“Tansy and Pansy are hopeless now they’re in college,” Izzy agreed cheerfully. “They have lives.” She sighed. “But no worries. I’ll keep him.”
Daisy blinked. “You will? Are you sure?”
“Absolutely. If you don’t mind me having him at our place.” Izzy picked up the kettle and began pouring boiling water because Daisy wasn’t doing it. “He can even spend the night. In case you don’t want to turn into a pumpkin right after the Plaza.” She grinned.
Daisy flushed and shook her head. “Not a chance. I am a pumpkin. Home before midnight. This is not a date. But Charlie would love to go to your place, if you’re sure.”
Izzy waved a hand airily. “I’ll never notice he’s there.” She zeroed back in. “What are you wearing?”
“That’s my other problem,” Daisy admitted. Nothing in her wardrobe lent itself to upscale fundraisers at the Plaza. And despite his brusque “Get something. I’ll pay for it,” she had no intention of allowing herself to feel beholden to Alex.
Izzy was thoughtfully silent for a long moment. Then, “I might have something,” she said, looking Daisy up and down assessingly. “Ichiro Sorrento,” she said.
“What?”
“That new designer whose collection Finn shot last year. Japanese-Italian. You remember him?”
Daisy did. But she shook her head. “No way I can afford anything with his label.”
“You don’t have to. You can wear mine. Remember that gorgeous dress and jacket I wore to Finn’s opening last spring?”
Daisy’s eyes widened. “That dress?” The dress had been a deep-sapphire-blue silk, spare and elegant, with an exquisitely embroidered jacket in the same deep blues, emerald-green and hints of violet. “You don’t want me wearing your gorgeous dress. I’d spill something on it.”
“I already have. It doesn’t show,” Izzy said cheerfully.
“I’m taller than you are.”
“Everyone is taller than I am,” Izzy countered. “So what? You’ll just show more leg. I doubt anyone will mind. Especially—” she grinned “—not a male Antonides.”
“Not. A. Date,” Daisy reiterated firmly. “I’m not trying to show off my legs.”
“Of course not. But you’re not a nun, either. You need to knock Mr. Driven Antonides’s socks off. Make him forget all about his serious girlfriend and run off to Vegas with you!”
It was as if a little devil called Izzy was sitting on her shoulder tempting her. “Dream on,” Daisy scoffed.
“A little dreaming never hurt anyone,” Izzy retorted.
Daisy let her have the last word.
But in her heart she begged to differ.
Where the hell was she?
Dozens of hired cars and limos and taxis slid up to the Plaza’s entrance Saturday evening while Alex stood on the steps, shifting from one foot to the other, watching and waiting. There were snowflakes in the air. Alex could see his breath, and his shoulders were getting damp as the snow melted, but he couldn’t bring himself to go inside and wait and pace.
There were scores of black-tie-clad men and elegantly dressed women getting out of taxis and limos—and not one of them was Daisy.
He’d told her quarter to eight. It was almost ten after. He’d got here early, to be sure he was here when she arrived, and she was nowhere to be seen.
He should never have given in to her demand that she come on her own, that he neither pick her up nor take her home after. He’d agreed only because she would have refused to come otherwise. The sweet and malleable Daisy he had known five years ago might still be somewhere inside this Daisy Connolly, but he hadn’t caught a glimpse of her in a long, long time.
Was this her revenge? Was standing
