it?”
She knew he couldn’t. Clint knew he couldn’t. As far back as when Matt had shared an apartment with Clint, his best friend always made sure Matt’s bow tie was correctly knotted for the once-a-year formal affairs he attended. He grabbed the smaller bag, as well.
“I think I can handle it,” Matt mumbled and headed to his bedroom. “Be out in a minute.”
“Clint told me not to leave until you were properly attired,” she called after him.
After he’d changed into the pants and a pleated tuxedo shirt, he stuck his head out the door. “Sodas are in the fridge.”
“I’m good.”
He left the door open and adjusted the cummerbund, making sure the pleats faced up. “What brings you to Memphis?”
“I came over for Christmas and Clint talked me into staying for this party he’s going to.” Her voice floated through the doorway. “I think they have a ‘friend’ they want to introduce.”
So that’s why she was all dolled up. He glanced down at the ring box, still open. Matt snapped the lid shut. Once he’d thought Allie would be the one wearing his grandmother’s rings. Shrugging the thought off, he slid the tie around his neck, his fingers fumbling with the silk. After a few minutes, he gave up and grabbed his shoes. He’d give the tie one more shot after he donned his Oxfords.
Or maybe he’d search online for instructions first. Why hadn’t he thought of that before? While his laptop booted up, he slipped on his shoes then typed his search words into Google. Oh, good...a video. Matt clicked on the link and leaned over the computer, studying the fat guy meticulously detailing how to knot a bow tie. He paused the video and draped the tie around his neck, making sure one side hung lower than the other.
What was it he said to do next? He clicked Play and stared hard at the computer screen. Do what? Matt backed the video up and played it again. No doubt about it, the guy was talking Greek. He yanked the tie off and headed for his living room.
“I give up! Would you please do this stupid—”
The room was empty. His heart sank. She had to still be here—somebody had to help him. Movement on the balcony caught his eye. He tapped on the sliding door, and when she turned, he dangled the tie. “Help?” he mouthed.
She slid the door open, shivering as she came back into the room. “Sorry, I just had to get some fresh air. It’s chilly out there, but a beautiful night.”
Then she took the tie without even an I-told-you-so glance and smoothed it out before handing it back to him. “Slip it around your neck.”
He did as he was instructed. “Thanks for doing this.”
“No prob...that’s what friends are for. Now, be still.”
He tried not to move, acutely aware of how close she stood to him. Maybe he should’ve tried harder to tie it. He cleared his throat. “You haven’t said anything about the apartment. Do you like it?”
* * *
ALLIE HAD DREADED that question from the minute she’d stepped into the place. She supposed some people like the minimalist look—sparse white walls, chrome and glass tables and a thin, hard sofa that no doubt cost a mint. The room reminded her of a spread in an architectural magazine. And it fit Matthew to a T.
“It’s...” Cold and sterile were the only words that came to mind. Just tell him what he wants to hear. Her gaze locked on the one dash of color, an abstract painting with a flowing crimson line in the center. “It’s nice. I really like the painting. Did your girlfriend pick it out?” Allie nodded toward the silver frame that held a photo of Matt with his arms around a willowy redhead.
“It’s actually her painting, and she put all of this together.” His Adam’s apple bobbed. “Her name is Jessica Winthrop, and she likes to paint, like you. We...we’re kind of talking about getting married.” He shook his head. “No, we’re not just talking, we’re making plans. She loves big-city living.”
Implying Allie didn’t. But it hadn’t been the move to the big city she’d fought. She forced a thousand-watt smile to her lips. “I’m glad for you.”
Liar, liar, pants on fire. She’d known one day he’d get married, and it wouldn’t be to her, but did he have to be the one to tell her? If she hadn’t come to Memphis over the holidays, hadn’t agreed to deliver Matt’s tux, she would’ve found out through the grapevine, which would’ve been bad enough.
And did he have to find someone who was an artist? She glanced at the painting again. Especially one so talented. She stifled a sigh. Focus on the task at hand. Get the tie on his neck and get out of here. Matt shifted his weight as she made a half knot and pulled it against his collar. “Be still so I can get this tied.”
A pregnant pause filled the room as Allie forced her fingers through the mechanics of knotting the tie. Finally she had the black silk material transformed into a presentable bow, and his collar turned back down. The pause grew heavier. “I saw your sister just before the Christmas break,” she said, more to fill the dead air than to pass information.
“What? Where?”
“At school. I double as the reading teacher and elementary school counselor. Her son has been having problems in the classroom.”
“Son?” His brow wrinkled into a frown. “What are you talking about?”
“When is the last time you saw Mariah?”
“Ten years ago, when Mother died.” He shrugged. “You were there—she was wasted.”
She definitely remembered Matt’s older sister that day. Allie had held Mariah’s head while she threw up in the commode. But now she understood his confusion—Mariah hadn’t told Matt she was pregnant. The son born to her was in Allie’s third-grade reading class and a frequent visitor to her counselor’s room. “And you haven’t talked to her since?”
“Sometimes. She calls every year or so, and for a while I have a number to reach her on, then it gets disconnected or she changes phones. But she never said anything about a kid.” His cell phone dinged. Matt checked it and winced.
“Your girlfriend?”
He nodded. “Jessica has decided she wants to drive, and she’ll be here in five minutes. Look, could I call you tomorrow to talk about my sister? Maybe we could get together for coffee.”
No way. Ending the year with a visit to Matt Jefferies was one thing. Starting the New Year off having coffee with the only man she’d ever loved and couldn’t have just was not happening. “I’m sorry. I have to go back to Cedar Grove tomorrow. Why don’t you simply call Mariah?”
“Why? So she can lie to me again? Besides, the number I have has been disconnected. Where are my sister and the boy living?”
“His name is Noah.” Allie dropped her gaze. “She works as a waitress at Loco Jim’s.”
Matt waited.
“And they live in a little house on Beaker Street.”
His shoulders
