Kitty Valentine Dates a Fireman Page 3

  “That’s more like it. Honestly, you do someone a favor, and they treat you like a villain.”

  I would hardly say I treated her like a villain. The next time Hayley asks where I got my dramatic streak from, I’ll point her in grandmother’s direction. “Anyway, do you know how many people are supposed to be there tonight?”

  “The last time I checked, we sold two hundred fifty tickets. And there are two dozen bachelors up for auction.”

  “Two dozen? How will I know which one to pick?” The second it’s out of my mouth, the corners of her mouth twitch upward, like she’s trying to hide a smile. “No. Don’t tell me you’ve already chosen someone for me.”

  “Why would I not? I had the luxury of vetting these young men, and several of them stood out above the rest.”

  “Excuse me, but maybe I should’ve been given that luxury? Did you ever think of that? I’m the one who’s supposed to be dating him.”

  “Yes, and we’ve seen how well you’ve done in the past when left to your own devices.” Before I have the chance to come up with a cutting reply, she pats my hand. “I understand. You’re not looking for anything serious or long-term. Still, there are times when we must admit we can’t see the big picture. It’s always easier for someone standing outside our situation to see what we can’t because we are too close to it.”

  I hate it when she’s right, though it would have been nice to be alerted to this information. I mean, I could’ve already picked out who I wanted. “I think I’m the one who should have been able to check them out regardless. I’m supposed to be writing a book about this person.”

  She holds up a finger, clicking her tongue. “A book inspired by them. I thought the point was to use them for inspiration.”

  Darn it. There are times I wish I didn’t tell her so much of what goes on in my professional life. “Okay, you’re making a point, but still, I don’t like feeling like I have no say in the matter.”

  “Would it help if I told you I think you’ll be pleased?”

  “Not very much.”

  “Kathryn, give me at least a small bit of credit. I have good taste in men. Your grandfather—rest his soul—was a regular stud.”

  “Oh God.”

  Her blithe shrug nearly ends me. “Well? He was.”

  “It’s just that I don’t need to hear that, you know?”

  “I swear, if I had a dollar for every morning I woke up, unable to walk …”

  “Oh, here we are!” I’ve never been so glad to see a hotel in all my life. It’s a good thing we didn’t get stuck in traffic or else I might’ve been treated to the story of how my mother was conceived.

  Grandmother is clearly having the time of her life, tormenting me, chuckling to herself as Peter gets out of the car to help her from the backseat. I slide over and take his outstretched hand. If anything, that slight contact gives me a boost, makes me feel a little less like I’m about to walk into a lion’s den. I’m not even one of the people being auctioned off, but knowing that doesn’t stop my hands from shaking a little.

  “You know she means well,” Peter whispers while Grandmother greets a friend on her way into the hotel. “You’re the only family she has, and it means a great deal to see you settled down and content. That’s all she wants.”

  Part of me wants to ask how he knows this. I doubt the two of them sit around, sharing their private thoughts over a cup of tea before heading to bed. But he has been with her a long time, and I guess he’s been able to pick up a few things here and there.

  Reaching up, I pat his wrinkled cheek. “I’ve said it before, and I’ll say it again. There are times I’m sure you’re what I like best about her.”

  Grandmother turns when she realizes I’m not with her. “Kathryn! Come along. It won’t do for us to be late.”

  “As if she doesn’t love making an entrance after everyone else has arrived.” I wink at Peter before hurrying to catch up with her, and his laughter follows me up to the gilded front door.

  It’s time for Grandmother to buy me a man. I’m not saying it’s the worst way I’ve ever spent a Saturday night, but still …

  CHAPTER FOUR

  My first thoughts on entering the ballroom on the top floor of the hotel have nothing to do with the beautiful surroundings, the impeccable floral arrangements, the ornate gold-and-crystal chandeliers hanging from the ceiling painted with fluffy clouds against a blue sky.

  No, my thoughts have more to do with the feeling of being a kid in a candy store.

  There are so many gorgeous men here; I don’t know where to look first. Sure, the women are beautiful and exquisitely dressed, but it’s the men wearing badges designating them as firefighters participating in the auction who catch my eye and get my imagination moving.

  I’m not the only one impressed, not by a long shot. I don’t think I’ve ever seen so many women twirl their hair around their fingers while laughing loudly and smacking a man’s arm in one place. Honestly, it’s like they’re holding a flirting convention.

  Only it would have to be a convention to teach people how to flirt because some of what I’m seeing as Grandmother weaves me through the ballroom is downright cringeworthy.

  “Whitney! You look fabulous.”

  Grandmother and her frenemy, Whitney, exchange air kisses before Whitney takes notice of me. Immediately, her eyes light up, and I know why. She practically mauled Jake, the doctor I dated for one of my books, during grandmother’s seventy-fifth birthday party.

  “Kathryn! You are a vision.” I get the same air-kiss treatment before she looks around behind me. “Where is that gorgeous doctor of yours?”

  Grandmother swoops in before I get the chance to speak for myself. “I’m sorry to say, that didn’t work out.”

  If Whitney could move a muscle on her face, I’m sure she would be frowning. But there’s a reason she looks so good for a woman her age, and a lot of it has to do with how immobile her face is. Not that I knock it—people should be able to do what they want with their faces and their bodies—but there’s a certain point where a woman starts to look like she’s wearing a mask that only vaguely resembles her.

  Whitney passed that point a few treatments ago.

  “I’m so sorry to hear that. Goodness, he was something else.” She fans herself. “I can only imagine what he must’ve been like in bed.”

  All I can do is give her a nervous laugh. “Me too.” I shrug before gladly accepting a glass of champagne from a passing server. I have a feeling tonight is going to be the sort of event that requires a lot of alcohol.

  It’s a relief when somebody calls Whitney away to handle something. I can slightly exhale—but not for long.

  “I need to speak to a few of the organizers,” Grandmother informs me. “By all means, mingle.”

  “But …”

  It’s too late. She moves much faster than a woman of her age should be able to. One second, she was standing next to me, and the next, she’s blended into the crowd, to the point where I can’t make her out.

  Terrific.

  Well, she wanted me to mingle. So, I do, wandering in and out of small groups, exchanging pleasantries. There are plenty of women here around my age, and I can feel a sense of excitement from them. Well, of course they’re excited. They’re here to bid on men.

  And to help homeless dogs and cats, obviously. Naturally, that’s all any of us really care about.

  Actually, I care more about something else right now. And it’s not my book. It’s the heavenly aroma of various appetizers being carried around on silver trays. I’m so stinking hungry. I should have eaten something before leaving. Come to think of it, I should’ve eaten something more than a banana this morning before going to get my nails done. I sort of forgot to eat.

  Here’s the thing: I know myself. And I know that this champagne is going to go straight to my head if I don’t put something in my stomach. Which is why, when a tray of stuffed mushrooms floats past on the hand of a server, I grab one at the last se
cond and pop it into my mouth.

  And I instantly regret it because they must’ve just come straight from the kitchen. I open my mouth and do that frantic exhale thing people do when they’re trying to cool something that’s already crossed their tongue. That doesn’t work, so I have no choice but to wave my hand in front of my mouth before downing another glass of champagne. That finally does the trick.

  Of course, I looked super classy and elegant the entire time I did that. And I’m sure the few people standing nearby who were watching feel that way. I give them a little wave and a shrug, and they barely manage to avoid rolling their eyes before turning away to continue their conversation.

  Someone clears their throat behind me. “Gotta be careful about those hot appetizers.”

  Oh no. No, no, no. Please, God, not tonight. Of all nights, don’t let that voice belong to the person I think it belongs to.

  I don’t even want to turn around. Because if I turn around and find that the person behind me is indeed my neighbor, I’ll …

  Okay, I don’t know what I’ll do. But it won’t be pretty.

  “Did you go deaf? Did that stuffed mushroom make you go deaf?” Rather than waiting for me to turn around and face him, Matt sidles up beside me and gently nudges me with his elbow. “How’s your mouth?”

  How’s my mouth? It sort of feels like I swallowed poison.

  I turn to him, brows raised. “Could you maybe have told me you were planning on coming here tonight? I mean, we did talk about this event.”

  He shrugs, grinning. “We were talking about you, not me.”

  “Don’t give me that. You know what I’m saying. You had a chance to mention you were coming here tonight. Why didn’t you?”

  He waves a hand at me. “Because of this. Because I didn’t need you to give me an attitude. Sorry, but I had already bought my ticket. It was a done deal before you announced you were coming.”

  I bat my eyelashes at him. “Oh, really? Looking to bid on a bachelor?”

  “Yes, I realized my apartment was missing something. A single firefighter would look just great. Maybe he can sleep next to Phoebe’s crate.”

  I have to laugh. “Well, you clean up nicely anyway.”

  Okay, that’s a huge understatement. He looks absolutely incredible. I mean, he’s hot enough in regular clothes.

  The man is wearing a tuxedo tonight. It fits him like a glove. His hair, which is usually a little unkempt—one of the many perks of working at home, I guess—is neatly trimmed and smoothed down.

  “Thanks. So do you.” He raises his champagne glass to me, eyes moving up and down to take me in. “Your grandmother has good taste even if yours is sometimes questionable.”

  “Shut up.”

  Then, I see an older woman approaching us. I don’t remember her name, but I recognize her from Grandmother’s birthday party.

  I could be anybody in the entire world as far as she’s concerned. In fact, I doubt she would notice if she stepped on me since she only has eyes for Matt.

  “Now, now, let’s not monopolize our bachelors.” She scarcely glances at me, too busy looking up at Matt with adoring eyes.

  He dazzles her with a bright smile. “I’m flattered, but I’m not one of the bachelors up for auction tonight. Though I’m pretty good with a fire extinguisher.”

  Honestly, when he’s out in public, he knows how to turn on the charm. He almost passes for a human being.

  “Oh, come on. I’m sure they can squeeze in one more handsome young man.” She finally looks at me, and I can tell she vaguely recognizes me, just like I vaguely recognize her. “Come on. Help me convince him.”

  Help her convince him?

  Oh, yes. I would like nothing more.

  I look up at him with big, innocent eyes that are anything but truly innocent. “She’s right, Matt. You’re here tonight, which means the shelter is important to you. Just imagine the money you could help raise to save other dogs like Phoebe. Just think, there could be dogs just like her right now, waiting for someone to come and love them.”

  “She’s so right,” Grandmother’s friend coos, patting Matt’s arm.

  “He’d probably bring in a lot of money too, wouldn’t he?” I ask her while he basically burns up with embarrassment. I can practically feel the heat coming off him in waves.

  I’m not an idiot. I know he’s going to make me pay for this. But it’ll be worth it because I’ll always have this memory of making him blush to the roots of his hair. I’m surprised his teeth aren’t blushing when he forces a tight smile.

  “I don’t know if I qualify.”

  “You’re single,” I say to him. “He’s single,” I assure the woman who’s now definitely taking exploratory squeezes of Matt’s bicep. I’ve seen that bicep without clothes covering it up. I know how impressive it is. “And he has a great job too. He’s a catch and a half.”

  “I will kill you,” he mutters out of the side of his mouth while smiling to the woman in front of him.

  “You can try,” I mutter back, also smiling.

  “Don’t make me bring my friends over here to convince you,” the woman warns, shaking a bejeweled finger at him. “They are very convincing when they want to be.”

  “By all means, bring them over.” Especially since one of them happens to be my grandmother. “Better yet, let’s go join them.” I link arms with Matt and pull him along with me, which is much easier said than done since he’s doing his darnedest to plant his feet.

  “You are so gonna pay for this,” he whispers while we wind our way through the crowd, finally reaching my grandmother and Whitney and the few friends they’re chatting with.

  “Grandmother! My friend and neighbor is here. Matt Ryder, meet my grandmother.” I might or might not give him a tiny shove to make sure he gets closer.

  Boy, she’s good. She looks him up and down with one of her practiced eye flicks while extending a hand. “Any friend of Kathryn’s. What brings you here tonight?”

  “Kathryn is trying to convince him to add his name to our roster of bachelors.” Her friend is holding on to Matt now, nearly leaning on him. “Don’t you think that’s a good idea?”

  Now, all eyes are on us, and maybe this has gone too far.

  I clear my throat and shrug. “I don’t know. It was just an idea. He certainly doesn’t have to do anything he’s not comfortable with.”

  He looks down at me, brow furrowed. What’s he thinking? Probably trying to decide if I mean it or not.

  Then, he smiles, and my insides turn to ice. I can see he’s cooking up some scheme in the back of his mind, to get back at me. And he’s latched on to something.

  “No, that’s fine. If there’s room for me, I’d be more than happy to offer myself as a bachelor.” He shines the light of his smile on everyone around us. “Not that I want to rock the boat, mind you, but I did adopt my dog from one of the shelters receiving proceeds from tonight’s auction, so it means a lot to me.”

  I swear, every one of the women around me—besides Grandmother—is ready to swoon.

  She’s not quite there yet. “You would have to provide a bit of biographical information.”

  “Fair enough.”

  “And you’ll have to accept a date with whichever woman wins you during bidding.”

  “Also fair.” He shrugs a little, looking around. “You’re more than welcome to say no. This wasn’t my idea.”

  “There are already two dozen, aren’t there? Do we really need one more?” I whisper to my grandmother as the others murmur among themselves.

  “If he’s been generous enough to accept, it would be wrong to turn him down now.” Grandmother clearly has the last word in just about everything, including the etiquette used by her social circle. “Yes, I think that’s a fine idea. The more, the merrier.”

  Matt’s smile widens when his eyes meet mine.

  Boy, am I in for it.

  CHAPTER FIVE

  It takes all of my concentration to turn my thoughts toward
the auction and away from the fact that Matt’s going to exact cruel and relentless punishment after I threw him under the bus. Even the sumptuous-looking dinner in front of me—chateaubriand, scalloped potatoes, roasted brussels sprouts with bacon, which smells absolutely divine—tastes like sawdust in my mouth.

  I feel bad. What can I say?

  And darn him for taking away the opportunity to get to know a few of the bachelors. Just like Matt, monopolizing my time and leaving me feeling like the bad guy.

  “Dear? Did you hear a word I said?” Grandmother stops short of waving a hand in front of my face but just barely.

  “Hmm? I’m sorry. I didn’t.”

  We’re seated near the front of the room, next to the catwalk where all the men will strut their stuff, so I have to keep a pleasant smile on my face for the sake of people looking this way. I’m sure everybody would love to report that Cecile’s granddaughter looked like she needed an exorcism at the big fundraiser.

  “I said, the bachelor in question is thirteenth on the list. Keep your eyes open.”

  “Thirteenth? Not a lucky number.”

  “Oh, don’t be silly.” She waves a hand with a soft laugh. “As if that sort of thing truly matters. Really, Kathryn. You haven’t touched your dinner either.”

  Only the fact that we’re in public and around a bunch of fancy, rich people keeps me from poking my meat just to prove I touched it. Instead of doing something truly juvenile, I pick up my knife and fork and cut into the beef.

  Anybody who wonders why it took me so long to dig in can tell themselves I was nervous about the auction.

  Or they can mind their own business if it actually matters enough for them to think about it.

  Whitney calls out to me from across the table, “Kathryn, darling, will you be bidding on any of the bachelors?”

  Grandmother sees fit to respond for me, “She will.”