Bride by Mistake (7 page)

“Is it your law firm calling? Do they want you to plan a baby shower?” Zach’s gray eyes caught Meg’s and their teasing gleam made her want to giggle. Even when the man gave her trouble—which was often—she could hardly resist his charm.

“You’re not funny,” Meg retorted as she hurried to Liza’s master bath. After closing the door, she flipped on the overhead fan so Zach couldn’t pick up snippets of conversation.

“Hello? Is that you, Martin?”

“Hey there, sweet stuff. You must be having fun,” he said pleasantly. “I called several times but it went to voice mail.”

“Sorry. I’ve just been relaxing and enjoying this vacation,” Meg lied. All she did these days was lie!

“That’s good. I know you were frustrated with teaching and needed a break. Glad you’re getting one.”

“Me too,” she affirmed. “How are you, Martin? How’s the convention going?”

“So far, so good. I present my paper tonight. Hope it’s impressive enough for all the bigwigs attending.”

“You’ll do awesome. You’re a great public speaker.”

Martin laughed in his easy, relaxed manner. “And you’re my best supporter, honey. Thanks for the vote of confidence.”

Meg smiled. Her sweet, humble Martin. So talented yet not full of himself like so many men she knew.

“How’s the weather in Los Angeles?”

“Warm and sunny. But I miss Meadow Springs and can’t wait to go home.”

“I hear you,” Meg said, wishing passionately that she were going home. Going home to Martin and to her small-town life, and, best of all, leaving her pretend fiancé behind.

“If I don’t call you a lot, don’t worry. I’ll be busy with meetings and contacts.”

“I won’t worry. Just enjoy yourself.”

“Thanks, Meg. Miss you.”

“Me too. But we’ll both be home soon.”
And the sooner the better
, Meg thought.

“Enjoy your time with Liza. Tell her I said hello.”

“Um, I will,” Meg said. She could tell Liza hello from Martin the next time they talked on the phone. Then this wouldn’t qualify as a fib.

“Good luck with your speech, Martin. Love you.”

“Love you too. Bye now.”

After she hung up, Meg leaned against the sink in an effort to calm her jangled nerves. A few days ago her life was moving steadily toward her goal of marriage and family. She’d felt utterly content. Maybe not exhilarated, but satisfied with her life and her choices.

So why were question marks starting to appear in her thoughts? If she really loved Martin, and she absolutely did, why did she feel so attracted to Zach? Was her reaction to the man just a remnant of her high-school crush?

Meg shook her head. How foolish to let a high-school heartthrob make her question her carefully planned life. Good thing Martin had called. Hearing his voice had given her a reality check. It had taken nearly three decades for Mr. Right to come along, but he’d finally appeared. Martin Landsburg was the perfect man for her.

Meg suddenly remembered that another man waited patiently in the living room, knee-deep in catering information. She glanced in the mirror. “Back to work, Liza O’Malley, attorney at law,” she told her mirror image. Her two worlds—the real and the pretend—had almost collided. But she’d sidestepped disaster this time. Hopefully she could continue.

Meg fluffed her hair and returned to her Liza responsibilities: helping Zach plan Eloise’s party. From here on she’d remember who she really was: a small-town ballet teacher who would soon marry a wonderful man with whom she would hopefully start a family in the not-too-distant future.

“Mrs. Martin Landsburg,” she whispered, reminding herself who she wanted to be. Who she
would
be. End of story.

But when Meg saw Zach with his nose buried in a brochure, a stab of attraction hit her with such force that her knees nearly buckled. She suddenly felt breathless.

Mrs. Martin Landsburg
, she said again. Silently this time.

Liza returned to the living room, and Zach was glad to have her back. She seemed more relaxed today, and he enjoyed their banter. And, as always, he relied on her good judgment. When Liza sat down, Zach noticed that her cheeks looked flushed, and a slight frown creased her forehead.

“That took some time,” he observed. “Did you arrange the firm’s social calendar for the entire year?”

“The call wasn’t from my law firm,” she said. Her mouth was set in a firm line, and she nibbled on her lower lip.

“Hmm. Was it your boyfriend? The architect guy?” To Zach’s chagrin he felt a rush of envy that caught him off guard.

“Brett Sampson is
not
my boyfriend,” she snapped. “Not my steady one, anyway.”

“Sorry, Liza. I like giving you a hard time.”

She eyed him cynically. “So I’ve noticed. And what will you do if I resign as coordinator of the birthday bash?”

“Probably shoot myself.”

“We can’t have that. It would spoil the party,” she said, taking the brochure from his hand. “Did you check out their menu?”

“I did. World Wide Cuisine is just what we need.”

Zach still didn’t know who had phoned or why Liza had left the room to take the call. They both were frequently interrupted by business calls. Liza often took them in Zach’s presence and vice versa.

It’s none of your affair, Addison
, he told himself. Liza’s life was her own business. He’d never felt the need to probe into her personal relationships before. But suddenly he wanted to know everything about the woman. Especially if the guy in St. Louis was a serious suitor.

“What about chicken cordon bleu as the entrée?” he asked, getting back to business.

Liza nodded. “Great choice. I love chicken cordon bleu.”

Hmm. Zach didn’t bother to point out that the dish contained not one but two kinds of meat. It seemed Liza’s eating habits were changing along with the rest of her.

Unfortunately, this new Liza attracted Zach in a dangerous manner. He’d felt like that about Denise right from the beginning. She’d taken his breath away. As it turned out, Denise had taken more than just his breath. When her attorney had finished with him, Denise had acquired a healthy chunk of Zach’s earthly goods. Since then, he had kept his emotions under wraps.

But Liza could make his heart race at the most unexpected times. And he constantly fought the desire to touch her—even kiss her! The alarm bells clanged loudly in his brain. He’d better pay attention.

“Do you want me to call World Wide Cuisine and place the order?”

Zach nodded. “Yes. For fifty-five people.”

“Okay, then. I’ll see what I can do.”

Zach listened as Liza efficiently made the catering arrangements. She even bartered the price, not that it made a real difference to him. At this moment Liza was her efficient, no-nonsense self. He hoped she’d revert back permanently so he could relax—and forget the attraction that was driving him crazy.

When Liza finished, she turned to him. “What else do we need to arrange for the party? Are you planning to have music?”

“Do we need music?”

“If you want to make the evening memorable, you do.”

Zach shrugged. “Gram likes two kinds of music. Classical and elevator.”

Liza smiled. Zach could get addicted to that smile. Maybe he already was.

“I made some calls earlier; there are several good options,” she told him.

Liza started talking about a string quartet, a first-rate harpist, and several other ensembles. Zach felt himself staring at her again. How could the woman look so radiant in jeans and a tank top? While sitting cross-legged on the floor? And why did he want to interrupt this planning session with some serious hanky-panky?

Zach shook his head, realizing he’d nowhere near won the battle with his emotions. Not where Liza was concerned.

She looked at him expectantly, and he had no clue why.

“What’s wrong?”

“Which of these options sounds good? I’ve asked you three times.”

“Sorry,” he said. “Guess I was daydreaming.”

She quirked an eyebrow. “Am I boring you, Zachary?”

“Not at all. But it’s hard to choose a group when I’ve never heard their music.”

“We can fix that. All these groups are associated with Music Central, a booking agency on Walnut near Twelfth Street. Want to visit their studio and listen to the artists? That would make the decision easier.”

“Any chance you can meet me there around noon tomorrow?” Zach asked.

Liza nodded. “That should work.”

“Great. Party planning is more complex than I thought. Good thing I have you, Liza.”

Of course, he didn’t have Liza. And he shouldn’t want to have Liza—not for anything except the pal and confidante she’d been to him for years.

Deep inside, Zach wished Liza would return to her former self. He missed the woman he chummed with and laughed with and agreed with—at least most of the time. And he wished the new Liza didn’t stir longings inside him. Longings that made him want to kiss her.

Thoroughly.

And often.

He’d given in to those longings with Denise. And he’d come away from the relationship with nothing. Nothing except heartache.

In addition, the new Liza baffled and confused him. She seemed to be constantly changing the rules. And she and Zach were always in conflict of one sort or another.

Zach vowed to try harder to slot Liza back into her original category. Buddy, pal, confidante. He only hoped he could manage. It grew tougher every day.

M
EG HOPPED INTO
Liza’s Volvo and drove downtown to Music Central. The business was housed in a brick building with black marble floors, gray walls, and contemporary furnishings. Awfully clinical looking, Meg thought. She approached a young receptionist who sat behind a silver metal desk. “I called about screening some musicians for a birthday party,” Meg told her.

“Name, please?”

“Meg O’Malley. Oh, no, make that Liza. I go by my middle name,” she said, trying to inject some logic into the insanity. An impossibility.

The woman checked her computer. “Ah, here you are, Ms. O’Malley. Liza, right?”

“Right.”

“I’ve reserved studio three for you. Here’s a list of our artists,” she said, handing Meg a lengthy printout. “If you’ll choose several you want to listen to, I’ll give you their CDs. That will help you make your final selection.”

Meg scanned the list and told the woman which CDs she wanted. At that moment Zach strode in. He walked quickly, a deep frown creasing his forehead. One look told Meg that Zach was not a happy guy.

Yet to her chagrin, the reception area, which moments ago had looked lackluster and just plain boring, took on a new spark. Zach seemed to create that spark wherever he went. At least in Meg’s eyes.

“Sorry I’m late,” he said, his dark eyes meeting hers. “I ran into complications.”

“No problem. Are you ready to listen to some music?”

“Sure, why not?”

“Right this way,” said the receptionist, who led them to a small room complete with a couch and a digitally formatted sound system. “I’ll put on the harpist first,” she said. “You’ll love Elaina. She adds class to any gathering.”

“Thank you,” Meg said.

“Just hit the buzzer if you have questions.” The receptionist dimmed the lights and left the room as Meg and Zach settled on the plush velvet couch.

“This is nice, isn’t it?” Meg said.

Zach’s frown hadn’t lessened one iota. And he looked more troubled than she’d seen him. “To be honest, Liza,” he said, “I don’t care if we have a string quartet or seventy-six trombones play at Gram’s party. Do we have to listen to all these?”

Meg slanted him a disapproving glance. “We don’t
have
to listen to any of them. I thought you wanted to help select the music. Obviously, I was mistaken.”

She crossed her arms and felt a hot flush creep up her neck. She’d bent over backward to help Zach make this party special for Eloise, and he’d suddenly lost interest.

“Look, Liza, I’m sorry I snapped at you. Our firm lost a million-dollar account this morning, one I’d spent a lot of time coaching and encouraging. Addison’s Fine Furniture will take a hit without their business.”

Before Meg had a chance to comment, Zach rushed on. “And if that wasn’t enough, I got rear-ended on the way over here. Some unconscious jerk forgot to stop for a red light.” Zach shook his head. “So far my day’s been a disaster.”