"I have an idea," Laila Riley announced when she and
Connie Collins turned up in Jess O'Brien's office at
The Inn at Eagle Point on a Saturday night.
There was a twinkle in her eye that immediately made Jess
nervous about what her friends had in mind. "Is it going
to get us arrested?" she inquired suspiciously. Not that
she was unwilling to take the risk, but she would like to
know about the possibility in advance, calculate the odds
and have a backup plan.
Laila grinned. "If there were anyone interesting working
for the sheriff's department, we'd consider it, but
no. This is just doing something outside the box, something
none of us would ever consider unless we all decided to do
it together."
"Do I dare ask?" Jess wondered.
"Online dating," Connie revealed. The lack of
enthusiasm in her voice suggested that this had been
Laila's idea and that Connie had only agreed because of
the same boredom that had been affecting Jess's mood
recently.
Jess, however, wasn't quite that desperate. "You
can't be serious."
"Oh, but we are," Laila confirmed.
Jess studied the two women who'd invaded her office on a
night of the week when most attractive, intelligent women
should have been out on dates. Connie and Laila were related
to her indirectly by the marriages of their siblings to
hers. They were friends by choice despite the differences in
their ages.
Connie was the forty-one-year-old single mother of a teen
who'd recently left for college. Her younger brother,
Jake, was married to Jess's sister, Bree. Laila was the
thirty-six-year-old manager of the local bank and younger
sister of Trace, who was married to Abby, Jess's oldest
sister. Jess, at thirty, was the youngest. At times it
seemed as if everyone in Chesapeake Shores was related to an
O'Brien one way or another.
"Okay, now, let's think about this," Laila said,
making herself at home by pouring a glass of tea from the
ever-present pitcher on Jess's desk. "What are you
doing tonight? I mean, seriously, here you are in your
office when you should be out on the town, right?"
Jess glanced at the ever-present mound of paperwork on her
desk. It was the worst part of her job. She was beginning to
see Laila's point.
"And does that make one bit of sense to you?" Laila
pressed. "What is wrong with the men in this town that
the three of us are alone on a Saturday night? We obviously
need to broaden our horizons. Put ourselves out there. Stir
things up."
"And find some geographically unsuitable men who'll
never be around?" Jess replied. "Seems
counterproductive to me."
"I thought the same thing at first," Connie said,
beckoning for her own glass of tea. Laila poured it and
handed it to her. "But the sad truth is that boredom has
made me more open-minded. For the longest time I
couldn't wait until my daughter was grown and off to
college, but now that Jenny's actually gone, the house
feels so empty I can hardly stand it."
"And I've been mind-numbingly bored ever since Dave
and I broke up three years ago, which is saying something,
since dating him was about as stimulating as watching grass
grow," Laila said. She sat up straighter. "Online
dating is the perfect way to change the status quo. It's
trendy. It'll be fun."
Jess remained unconvinced. She turned to Connie, who was
known for being sensible. "Are you really in favor of
this?"
Connie shrugged. "I can see some advantages."
"Geographically undesirable," Jess repeated with
emphasis.
"Not a problem," Laila insisted. "It's a new
local service. These men are all right around here."
Jess couldn't quite wrap her mind around either the idea
or the fact that Connie was willing, if not eager, to try
online dating. Looking her in the eye, Jess began, "But
I thought
" Her voice trailed off. She wasn't
supposed to know that sparks had been flying between Connie
and Jess's uncle, Thomas O'Brien. Her brothers
Connor and Kevin both had sworn her to secrecy. She sighed.
"Never mind."
Connie studied her with suspicion, but since it was a kettle
of fish she clearly didn't want to dive into, she
remained silent.
Laila, seemingly unaware of the undercurrents, jumped back
in. "It's perfect, don't you think?" she
asked excitedly.
"Are there any single men around here we don't
already know?" Jess asked, still skeptical.
"Isn't that precisely why we're sitting here on
a weekend without dates?"
"The region does extend beyond the town limits,"
Connie conceded.
"It includes Annapolis," Laila explained, pulling a
brochure from her pocket and handing it to Jess. "See,
Lunch by the Bay. Doesn't that sound lovely? And
that's all we'd be committing to, an occasional
lunch with someone new. It has to beat waiting around to be
noticed in the bar at Brady's. If I spend any more time
in there, Dillon's threatened to name a barstool after
me."
"At least you'd have a lasting legacy of your life
in Chesapeake Shores," Jess teased. "Much better
than having your picture on the wall of that stodgy old bank
your family owns and that you're so attached to."
"Make fun of me all you want, but I really think we
should do this," Laila insisted. "We're
intelligent, attractive women. We deserve to spend time with
exciting, successful men who aren't related to us."
"And I for one am tired of the Saturday night pity
dinners at Jake and Bree's," Connie added with a
shudder. "Ever since Jenny left, they expect me to come
there and coo over the new baby. She's a cutie, but that
is not how I see myself spending Saturday nights for the
next who-knows-how-many years."
"I've had my share of those dinners," Jess
agreed, "but at least I get passed off from Bree to Abby
to Kevin and now even Connor."
"I don't even get the pity dinners," Laila said.
"Trace and Abby just count on me to babysit the twins.
If I'm not married soon, they'll probably move me in
and make me a full-time nanny."
"You have a career," Jess reminded her. "I'm
pretty sure you can maintain an independent lifestyle."
"Independence sucks," Laila declared.
"Amen," Connie added. "Not that I want some man
controlling what I do with my life," she said
emphatically, "but it would be nice to cuddle with
someone in front of the fire at night."
"Say what you really mean," Jess said. "You want
sex."
Connie sighed. "Don't we all?"
"So, are we going to do this?" Laila asked, tapping
the brochure.
Though she was hardly known for her caution, Jess
couldn't seem to keep herself from asking, "But what
do we know about this company?"
"Only what it says in the brochure," Laila replied,
glancing at the back page. "It promises discreet
matches, handled by a psychologist who's been working
with single clients for years. He's developed criteria
for making sure that people have the same goals and
values." She set down the brochure and regarded them
earnestly. "Come on, you guys. What do we have to lose?
If the dates are awful, we can laugh about them later over
drinks at Brady's."
"I'm in," Connie said at once. "Jess?"
Jess glanced at the paperwork on her desk. It wasn't
going anywhere. "What the heck! I'm in."
She turned and flipped on her computer, checked the link to
the company's website and found it. "Nice
design," she said approvingly.
"See, it looks perfectly respectable," Connie noted.
"And I love the picture," Laila said. "I'm
pretty sure it was taken right on Shore Road. See,
there's the town fishing pier off to the left."
"Aren't you worried that we could wind up being
paired off with someone we already know, even someone we
used to date?" Jess asked. "That could be
humiliating."
"Or it could make us take another look at him,"
Connie responded, her expression thoughtful. "After all,
if an expert thought we'd be a match, maybe we were
selling the other person short."
"Or maybe the expert isn't all that smart," Jess
countered.
Still, when the form for signing up appeared on the screen,
she was the first one to fill it out. She considered the
temptation to fake her replies just to see what might
happen, but Connie and Laila forestalled her.
"You have to take this seriously," Connie scolded.
"We're expecting a computer and some so-called
expert to do what we haven't been able to do on our
own," Jess replied. "And you want me to take it
seriously?"
"/ do," Connie said. "Because this could be my
last chance."
"It is not going to be your last chance," Laila said
fiercely. "If you're going to look at it like that,
Connie, then maybe you shouldn't do it. Desperation is
never smart when it comes to meeting men. We're doing
this for laughs and a few free lunches, that's it. We
need to keep our expectations low and just concentrate on
having fun."
Jess nodded. Connie didn't look entirely convinced, but
when Jess's form was complete, Connie immediately nudged
her aside and took her place in front of the computer. Laila
followed.
When the last form had been sent in, they exchanged a look.
"I need a drink," Jess said. "I'm in,"
Laila said.
Connie nodded agreement. "I think I'd better make
mine a double."
One of the few things that hadn't changed since Jake had
married Bree was that he, Mack Franklin and Will Lincoln
continued to have lunch every day at Sally's. The
lunches had started when Jake needed support after he and
Bree had split up a few years ago. Now that they were
together again and happily married, the lunch tradition had
become an occasion for the three men to keep their
friendship grounded. Will counted on these two men more than
either of them probably realized.
As a psychologist, Will spent his days listening to other
people's problems, but he didn't really have anyone
other than Jake and Mack to listen to his. Even though the
three of them knew just about everything concerning each
other's lives, there was one thing Will had been keeping
from them for a while now: his new business, Lunch by the Bay.
The dating service had been born out of frustration. He
spent way too much of his time counseling singles on the
relationships in their lives and way too little of his time
nurturing any kind of relationship of his own. The name of
the company, which had come to him in the middle of a lonely
night, was meant to be ironic, if only to him. As much as he
loved getting together with his buddies, he thought it was
past time to start having lunch with people who wore dresses
and perfume. Jake might occasionally smell like roses, but
it was only after he'd spent a morning planting rose
bushes for one of his many landscaping clients. It was
hardly the same.
It was also, Will thought, way past time to stop carrying
the torch for Jess O'Brien, youngest sister of his
friends Kevin and Connor O'Brien. Over the years Jess
had had ample opportunities to indicate even a whiff of
interest in Will, but she mostly treated him like an
especially annoying big brother.
Worse, since he'd become a psychologist, she regularly
accused him of analyzing her because she had ADD. She
didn't trust his slightest bit of attention, fully
expecting him to turn her into some professional case study.
None of his denials had gotten her off that ridiculous
tangent. Since they were thrown together a lot, her
suspicion made most of their encounters awkward and testy.
Which meant it was time to move on once and for all, no easy
task in a town with a population under five thousand except
when tourists and weekenders filled it during the spring and
summer. Lunch by the Bay had been created not only to fill a
gap in the Chesapeake Shores social scene, but also to save
him from growing old alone.
He explained all of this to Jake and Mack, who stared at him
as if he'd suddenly sprouted antlers.
"You're starting a dating website?" Mack
repeated, as if checking the accuracy of his hearing.
"Exactly," Will said. "If you weren't so
busy not dating Susie, I'd encourage you to
sign up. You're one of the town's most eligible
bachelors."
"You intend to use this site yourself?" Jake said,
looking puzzled. "I thought you were seeing some
psychologist who bought a summer house here."
"I was," Will said. "Two years ago. It
didn't work out, which you would know if you ever paid
attention to a thing I tell you."
"But you've been dating," Jake persisted.
"I'm not imagining that. You've blown us off to
go on dates."
"What can I say?" Will said with a shrug. "None
of them have amounted to anything."
"I suppose it makes sense," Mack said eventually.
"Susie is always grumbling about the dearth of available
men in town."
Jake barely managed to swallow a chuckle.
Mack scowled at him. "What?"
"I thought she had you," Jake responded.
"We're not dating," Mack repeated for the
umpteenth unbelievable time.
"And yet neither of you seems to be looking for anyone
else," Will pointed out. "If I'm wrong and you
are open to other possibilities, I can sign you right up on
the new website. You're an ex-jock and a semi-famous
sports columnist. I'll have you matched up with someone
new by the end of the week."
Jake regarded him incredulously. "You already have
clients?"
"About thirty so far," Will confirmed.
"Anyone we know?" Mack asked, then frowned.
"Susie, for instance?" There was a discernible hitch
in his voice when he asked, proving that there was more to
that relationship than he wanted to acknowledge.
"I'm not at liberty to say," Will told him.
"When did you start this company?" Jake asked.
"Three weeks ago officially, though I'd been working
out the criteria for matching people for a while. I finally
incorporated, then put out a few brochures around town. I
had no idea what to expect, but when the clients started
signing up, I figured I ought to tell you all about it
before you heard about it from another source. Someone's
bound to figure out I'm the professional psychologist
behind it. After all, there aren't that many of us in
the area."
"So you're doing this to make money?" Mack said,
clearly still trying to grasp his motivation. Before Susie,
Mack had had absolutely no difficulty attracting single
women, so he didn't understand Will's frustration.
"It could be a gold mine, yes, but that wasn't
really my motivation," Will insisted. "I think of it
more as a community service."
"Nice spin," Jake commented wryly. "You've
already admitted that you're doing this so you can meet
women. Couldn't you just have hung out at Brady's
more often?"
Will shook his head. "That wasn't really working for
me."
"What about church? I hear a lot of men meet women at
church," Mack said. "Come to think of it, if I'd
known you were this desperate, I could have asked Susie to
fix you up. She has a bunch of girlfriends."
"I'm not desperate," Will said, offended by the
characterization. "I'm being proactive."
Jake and Mack exchanged a glance. It was Jake who dared to
ask, "What about Jess?"
Will stilled. "What about her?"
"You've always been crazy about her," Jake said.