Larissa grumbled. “Bring whoever you like. Or come alone. Either way, Gary will be there. You might just discover that I know exactly what you need.”
“And you might have to admit that I’m the only one who really knows what I need,” Lydia retorted.
All she needed, she thought as she hung up the phone a few minutes later, was a friend. And Scott had very generously offered just that.
“You’re sure I’m dressed appropriately?” Lydia fretted on the following Saturday afternoon.
Sitting behind the wheel of his little sports car, Scott smiled. “Relax, Lydia. You look great.”
She smoothed the khaki slacks she wore with a thin white twin sweater set. “What can I expect to happen at this party?”
He chuckled, amused at her uncharacteristic show of nerves. “I take it you’re the type of person who doesn’t like surprises?”
“No,” she admitted. “I like to have everything planned and spelled out for me in advance. Not knowing what to expect makes me nervous.”
“I hate to tell you this, but you can never know what to expect at one of these parties.”
She groaned softly.
Reaching over to pat her clenched hands, Scott added reassuringly, “There’s really nothing to worry about. My friends enjoy getting together occasionally for an evening of food and games. We used to gather once a month, but we’ve all gotten so busy lately it’s harder to find the time.”
“What kind of games do they play?”
With a perfectly straight face, he replied, “Strip poker and naked Twister, usually. I hope you aren’t modest.”
Out of the corner of his eye, he saw her blink, then frown. “I was being serious, Scott.”
“What makes you think I wasn’t?” When she only glared at him, he chuckled. “Okay, sorry. Usually we play trivia games or charades or word games that can be played in teams. The game itself doesn’t matter. It’s just the chance to get together and have fun.”
“I don’t know,” she murmured. “I’m really not very good at games.”
“Lydia, you’re going to give yourself an ulcer worrying about everything this way. Chill out.”
“I’ll try,” she promised, pressing a hand to her stomach as if she were already suffering from the condition he’d warned her about.
Scott found her nervousness rather endearing. He thought it was funny that a woman of her impressive reputation was worried about an evening of games with his friends. “Just relax and have a good time. I think you’ll like everyone there.”
“But will they like me?”
“How could they not?”
A hint of pink stained her cheeks. “That was very nice. Thank you.”
He smiled. “Thank you for coming with me this evening.”
“It was a fair trade,” she reminded him. “I’ll keep your sister at bay for you this evening and you’ve promised to help me fend off Larissa’s efforts to fix me up with Charlie’s friend, Gary.”
“This was a great idea,” he said, pleased with himself for coming up with it. When he learned that Lydia’s sister was still matchmaking as relentlessly as Heather was, he had proposed a plan he hoped would give them some relief until their sisters had moved on to other projects. He and Lydia would be “standby escorts,” he’d suggested. Whenever one of them needed a no-strings, no-pressure date for an event, they could call the other. If they were available, they’d make an effort to go along to distract the matchmakers.
Lydia had been a bit hesitant at first. “I thought we agreed that neither of us really has time for dating anyone right now.”
“We won’t be dating,” he had argued. “Not really. We’ll just be keeping each other company at the occasional obligatory social event. I really enjoy your company, Lydia.”
“I enjoy yours, too. But—”
“We’re friends. I’d much rather spend an evening with a friend than with a blind date, wouldn’t you?”
She had almost shuddered. “I hate blind dates. I’ve never had one that wasn’t a disaster.”
“Same here. And every time I ask anyone out lately, it seems like she wants a hell of a lot more than I’ve got time or energy to offer while I’m pursuing a partnership with my firm. You have your own career goals and you don’t want anyone to interfere with them—which I wouldn’t. It seems to be the perfect plan—at least until Heather and Larissa realize that they might as well give up.”
“And how long do you think that will take?”
“Heather’s getting married at the end of June—four months from now. I figure she’ll start getting pretty busy with that soon. Too busy to worry about my social life, I hope. As for Larissa—what do you think?”
“She has a pretty short attention span,” Lydia had admitted. “She’ll probably drift on to another scheme within the next few weeks.”
“So there you are. We aren’t committing to anything long-term or time-consuming. You’ll go with me to a couple of things. I’ll escort you when you need me. Our sisters will assume we’re together and they’ll stop trying to arrange dates for us.”
“And what if they assume there’s more between us than there really is?”
“Who cares? We’ll know the truth.”
“Well,” she had said slowly, “Larissa has been hinting about throwing a housewarming party at her new apartment. She’s determined to use the occasion to introduce me to some guy named Gary. If you were there with me, it would be much less awkward.”
“I’d be delighted,” he had said cheerfully.
So here they were, turning onto the road that ended at the Walker ranch outside of Dallas. Scott was confident that he and Lydia would share a very pleasant evening with his friends. He could really relax tonight, he thought in satisfaction. Unlike a “real” date, Lydia wouldn’t expect him to pay more attention to her than to his friends. She wouldn’t get her feelings crushed if he talked to someone else for a while. There wouldn’t be any awkward, how-will-the-evening-end questions. All he would owe her after the party ended was a reciprocal turn at her sister’s affair.
He should have thought of something like this months ago when Heather had first started going overboard with this matchmaking thing. Of course, he hadn’t really known Lydia well enough to suggest such a plan then, and he couldn’t imagine anyone else he knew being such a good sport about it.
He parked his sports car between Cameron’s fancy SUV and Michael Chang’s aging pickup. “Looks like everyone’s here already. That’s Heather’s car over there.”
“We’re late?” Perpetually punctual Lydia seemed disturbed by the possibility.
