Bride by Mistake (8 page)

Meg’s annoyance lessened as she realized why Zach was so upset. “You’ve had a tough morning,” she said, deciding to overlook his brusqueness.

Zach rubbed his neck and frowned. “And I may have gotten whiplash in the bargain. The guy slammed me real hard.”

“I’m so sorry, Zach.”

He shrugged. “Hey, I’ll live. Thanks for letting me vent.”

His words sounded sincere. And appreciative. Zach had no one to lend support and TLC on a personal level. As a bachelor without a significant other, he had to take care of himself.

“You’ve got a full plate right now. You’re the CEO for a major corporation and you’re also worrying about Eloise and planning her party. That’s a lot to manage.”

His gaze softened. “Thanks for understanding.”

“If you need to get back to the office, go ahead. I’ll screen the CDs and make a selection.”

Zach grimaced, and Meg knew he was hurting. And the harp music, surprisingly bland, started grating on her nerves. “I’m changing the CD,” she said. “Elaina’s driving me nuts.”

Zach nodded. “Yeah, me too.”

Meg chose another group—a combo with both brass and strings. The tempo picked up and so did the mood. “Is this better?”

“Lots better.”

She took her place on the couch. “Turn around, Zach.”

“What?”

“Turn your back to me.”

He obliged, and Meg began massaging Zach’s shoulders. When she breathed in his masculine scent, her heart fluttered. The music, Zach’s nearness, and the dim lighting made the moment seem romantic. Like something more than a screening session. Of course, it wasn’t.

He sighed. “Now, that’s good. I mean really good. You always said massage was a waste of time.”

“I changed my mind. I get a lot of tight muscles myself, and massage helps.” For once Meg remembered not to tell the whole story. She didn’t blurt out that her tight muscles came from teaching ballet—not from her duties as an attorney.

Zach nodded. “Hours of poring over files and sitting in front of a computer can bring on tense muscles.”

“Absolutely,” Meg affirmed.

Thankfully, she did neither of these tasks in her line of work. Meg taught most of the ballet classes and interacted with parents. Her partner, Rachel, who was a business major, taught a few classes and also handled the finances and computer work for Dance Unlimited.

Massage was another area in which Meg and Liza were light-years apart. Liza couldn’t sit still long enough to enjoy the pleasure of massage. But Meg loved everything about it: a quiet room, scented oil, soft music, and subtle lighting. And then the relaxing wonder of hands on skin.

As Meg continued to work his shoulder muscles, she felt Zach start to relax. As he did, he leaned toward her. “You’re wonderful at this, Liza,” he affirmed. “Another talent you’ve kept hidden from me.”

“I didn’t hide it,” she said. “Massage just never came up. But it’s not often that you lose a big account and get rear-ended on the same day. So today you get special treatment.”

“Aah,” he said, obviously enjoying it. “No objections here.”

The music continued, and even though Meg’s temper had flared earlier, she began relaxing too, and enjoying the moment. The music, the comfortable atmosphere of the studio, and having Zach so close contributed to that.

When she finished the massage, he said, “Thanks, Liza. Thanks a lot.”

It hurt Meg more and more to have Zach call her Liza. She wanted him to know her as herself. She’d love to tell him about her real life, her real job, her real interests.

What about your real boyfriend?
Meg’s conscience goaded.
Want to tell Zach about Martin too?

Of course she didn’t. So she may as well adapt to the Liza role she was playing. That’s the only way Zach would ever know her.

He turned toward her just as the combo played a dreamy passage. For several moments she and Zach just looked at each other. Meg held her breath, praying Zach wouldn’t kiss her. She could barely handle the touch of his hand and didn’t want to think what a kiss would do. Just the possibility made her panic.

When Zach leaned forward, her heart froze. Meg felt both relief and a touch of disappointment when he placed a gentle kiss on her forehead. “You’ve done it again, Liza-Lou.”

“What have I done?”

“Gone above and beyond.”

She forced a smile, trying to ignore her racing heart. If a peck on the forehead caused her pulse to pound, what would a serious kiss do? She didn’t want to think about it. “That’s what friends do for each other,” she told him. “Go above and beyond.”

He smiled. “Really good friends. Like you.”

That gnawed at Meg too. This buddy relationship was all she would ever have with Zach—and rightfully so, since she was practically engaged to Martin. But to Meg’s dismay, her fickle heart wanted more.

“Shall we go with this group?” Zach asked. “Or do we have to listen to the flute trio, the brass ensemble, and the saxophonist?”

“If you like this group, they’re in.”

“I do.” He glanced at his watch. “If you don’t mind, I need to get back to the office and start hassling the insurance company.”

“I’d better get back too,” Meg said. And while Zach would assume she meant back to work, Meg just wanted to put on some sweats, flop onto Liza’s couch, and watch a movie.

Suddenly she remembered a critical detail. “What about Eloise’s birthday cake? Have you made arrangements?”

Zach struck his forehead with the palm of his hand. “I totally forgot. Are we too late?”

“I’m not sure,” Meg replied.

He sighed. “To be honest, I’ve never ordered a birthday cake.”

“Do you know of any good bakeries?”

“There’s one not far from my office called Cake Heaven. I suppose I should check it out after work tonight.”

Meg took a steadying breath. While all she wanted was to escape the party planning, the pretending, and Zach Addison himself, she couldn’t let him deal with the cake alone. Not after the traumatic day he’d had.

“Shall I meet you there?” she offered.

Zach’s eyes lit with appreciation. “Would you, Liza? Do you have time?”

“I’ll make time.”

Zach reached out and squeezed Meg’s hand. The casual gesture caused her already-shaky emotions to revolt. She bit her lip. The simple touch of Zach’s hand should not create such turmoil inside her. But it did. Every time.

“I’ll call you when I’m ready to leave the office. You can meet me at Cake Heaven if you’re available,” he said as he released her hand.

Meg grabbed a quick breath. “That should work. And call me at the condo, will you, Zach? I’m taking off early tonight.”

“Good move. You work far too hard, Liza. I hope Burns, Logan, and Grant know what a prize they have in you.”

Meg wished Zach thought she was a prize. First prize, if possible. But, of course, his compliment wasn’t hers. It was Liza’s. “Thanks for your vote of confidence, Zach,” she said. “I’ll see you later, okay?”

“Great. I appreciate all you’re doing, Liza.”

Meg forced a smile. “Glad to be of help.”

As she walked back to her car, Meg realized that being Liza was the easy part of this assignment. Managing her feelings for Zach was the true challenge.

Just being with the man, no matter what they did, brought her both pain and pleasure. In some ways, she and Zach clicked far better than she and Martin did. That thought stirred a new wave of guilt. And reminded her to be on guard.

She couldn’t let her emotions control her behavior or usurp her carefully planned life. Not when she and Martin had a future together.

Zach stood at the counter of Cake Heaven, staring at the amazing creations displayed in the huge glass case. He’d had no idea cakes came in so many shapes, sizes, and flavors.

Maybe looking at cakes would prove a distraction. He still reeled from the loss of the Patterson account, and the insurance company was tossing up roadblocks. On top of that, his neck and shoulders felt like he’d been in a fistfight. And lost.

And he needed major distracting where Liza was concerned. Even with today’s challenges, he couldn’t get her off his mind. Each time he took a break, there she was, front and center. To Zach’s dismay, his attraction to Liza grew stronger each day. He forced his attention back onto the cake display.

“May I help you?” A woman in a bright-red pantsuit topped with a white apron hurried toward him, drying her hands on a tea towel. “What do you think of our cakes?” she asked, gesturing to the display case.

She was plump with rosy cheeks, black curls, and a warm smile. Zach figured if he worked at Cake Heaven, he’d be plump too. Just looking at these high-calorie desserts could accomplish that.

“My fiancée is on her way,” he said. “We want to buy a cake for my grandmother’s eighty-fifth birthday party.”

“You have lots to pick from,” she said. “We only display a few of our cakes, but if you look through the books on the table you’ll see photos of many more. I’ll let you browse awhile. Just holler if you need me. My name’s Gilda.” She smiled again and padded off to the kitchen.

A moment later the front door swung open and the tinkling bell announced a customer. Zach turned and watched Liza breeze in. Just seeing her again brought an unexplainable surge of delight.

Liza’s auburn hair curled softly around her face. She’d changed into jeans and a lemon-yellow knit top with an enticingly low neckline. Zach felt a rush of pleasure just looking at her.

Get a grip
, he told himself. He’d come here to choose a cake for Gram, not to ogle Liza. Besides, it wasn’t appropriate to ogle your good friend. Especially not while harboring un-friend-like feelings toward her, which Zach harbored plenty of these days.

As Liza joined him she glanced around the showroom. “Wow! I’ve never seen so many cakes.”

“According to Gilda, this is just the beginning.”

“Who’s Gilda?”

“The lady I spoke with earlier. She suggested we look through those books for more ideas.”

“Why don’t we, then?”

“Fine with me,” Zach said. In truth, his head still throbbed, and all his body wanted to do was stretch out and sleep. He’d hoped they could choose one of the forty or so cakes displayed in the case. But since Liza had sacrificed part of her evening to help, and since she loved to consider every option, he’d be a good sport.

They sat down, and Zach passed Liza a book and opened one himself. After thumbing through several pages he said, “Do you believe this? Alligator cakes, ostrich cakes, cakes shaped like
the Eiffel Tower. Look at this one. An entire snow fort built of cupcakes.” The possibilities boggled his brain.

“My book has a palm-tree cake, cakes shaped like cars, and…” Liza stopped and giggled. “Would you look at this chimpanzee cake? Do you think Eloise would like any of those?”

“They don’t seem to fit her personality. I figured we’d get a plain cake with a couple layers stacked on top of each other, and top it with thick, preferably chocolate, frosting. Wouldn’t that work?”

Liza pursed her lips. “I suppose so. But I’m fascinated by these photos,” she said, continuing to flip the pages. “Someone is certainly creative.”

Gilda came to rejoin them. “Have you found anything you like?” she asked. “Did you say this was for your grandmother’s birthday?”

Zach nodded. “That’s right.”

“Does she like flowers?”

“She loves them. Her rose garden is amazing,” Zach told her.

“Then check out the ‘Gilda’s Garden’ section. If you’ll notice, I’ve named each cake, and it’s listed under the photo for easy identification.” Gilda paged through Liza’s book, looking for the appropriate section.

“Do you bake the cakes yourself?” Liza asked.

“Every last one of them. I majored in art in college and took baking classes as a hobby. Since I knew I’d never support myself as an artist, I combined my passions, and voilà. Cake Heaven was born.”

“Your cakes are amazing,” Liza said. “It’s obvious you love what you do. I’m convinced that creative people enjoy life in a special way.”

“I totally agree with you,” Gilda bubbled. “What kind of work are you in?”

Liza paused a moment and caught Zach’s eye before she answered. “I’m an attorney with Burns, Logan, and Grant. I handle mostly divorce cases.”

Gilda’s dark eyes widened. “No kidding? I figured you for something more free-spirited, like a musician or a dancer. You’ve got the body of a dancer, honey.”

“Oh, no,” Liza countered. She flushed vividly as she twisted a tissue nervously in her hands. “But I’ve always admired creativity in others,” she added.

Zach rubbed his neck, waiting for Gilda, the artistic baker, to locate the garden section. It would take a bottle of aspirin and hours of sound sleep to restore his body to normal. But the way Liza chatted with Gilda, choosing a cake could take all night.

“Ah, here it is. Gilda’s Garden,” the woman finally said. “Will you folks excuse me a minute so I can take a cake out of the oven? See if you find something you like in this section.”

Zach expelled a relieved breath as Gilda fluttered out of the room. He might possibly have managed this high-energy woman on a normal day. But her lively chatter didn’t help his headache one bit. Maybe with Gilda in the kitchen, Zach could move the selection process forward before his head exploded.