Page 150 of Perfectly Matched: Harbor Falls Romance Collection

While the snow blew outside—kicking up swirling bursts of the icy white stuff every time someone stepped into the bar—Wyn tried to corral the steady stream of conversation and tacky Christmas music lyrics spinning on the carousel inside her head. She was over the festivities already.

Bah humbug.

“Friday Man,”

she said, nodding toward the bartender.

“‘Nother Cosmo. Make that two.”

Wyn was often a regular at Rick’s Cafe on Friday night. So was the bartender. But for the life of her, she couldn’t remember his name. It wasn’t Rick, everyone knew that. Rick was the owner of Rick’s Cafe and he was off on his honeymoon with Gracie Hart. Everyone knew that too.

Friday Man was in only on, well, Fridays.

Glancing to her friends occupying bar stools beside her, she squinted to focus on their faces. “What?”

“Two, Wynter?”

one of them questioned. She thought it was Charla but couldn’t be certain. Could be Lisa. Her squinty eyes didn’t appear to be working right.

“Yes ma’am,”

she responded, and then with authority added, “Two.”

The friend cleared her throat.

“Two more?”

Wyn quickly clarified.

“I’ve only had two, and yes, two more. It’s twofer night. Besides, pink.”

“Pink? Now there’s a reason for you.”

That was a male voice. Had to be Zach. For some reason her ears weren’t working right either.

“Bad day, Wyn?”

Someone finally went straight to the root of the problem.

“Bad week,”

she muttered. Licking her dry lips, she rotated toward the voice. Ah yes, her roomie, Lisa. Simultaneously, she attempted to slow the carousel in her brain by grasping the edge of the bar.

“Worst. Week. Ever. And the timing couldn’t be badder. It’s Christmas for God’s sake. Where are my drinks?”

She peered again toward the nameless bartender. Marty? Maybe that was it…

Yeah, his name is Marty.

“Badder?”

Charla groaned.

“Good God, Wyn.”

Lisa continued.

“Wyn, really honey, you’re had enough.”

She swatted the air toward them.

“’Tis happy hour,”

she reasoned.

“They’re half price for gawd’s sake. Besides, ‘tis also da season…”

Was she slurring her words? Good. She might as well make a complete fool out of herself. She’d already made a half-fool of herself earlier in the week and the trend appeared to continue….

Turning back, she watched Friday Man place two beautiful pink martinis in front of her. She smiled and winked. He grinned back.

He’s cute. And she loved pink. And red. Red for Christmas and ribbons and wine and total red-faced embarrassment. Bleah.

This year she was totally lacking in Christmas cheer. She needed this. Truly.

“Fa la laaaa…”

she sang quietly, then tipped the martini glass toward her lips and slurped down nearly half of the pink concoction in one gulp. The sweet kick of cranberry juice and vodka against the back of her tongue made her happy all the way to her toes.

“Come to mama,”

she whispered, gazing longingly at the remaining one and one-half cosmos sitting on the bar. This wasn’t her usual MO. Her friends knew it. Hell, she knew it. One martini was generally her limit but here she was, doing happy hour at Rick’s, third night in a row….

“Wyn, what are you doing?”

Oh yes. I’m here with friends. She’d nearly forgotten with all of the internal dialog swimming in her head. Turning back, she smiled.

“Hi guys. I’m Wynter. And I’m drunk.”

“No shit.”

That was Charla this time. The grump.

“I’m quitting,” Wyn said.

“Drinking?”

“No, silly.”

“Quitting what?”

“My job.”

“Waiting tables?”

She shook her head.

“No. God no. I need the money. You know, the job I would have if I didn’t have the waiting tables job.”

They all stared. Silent. Unmoving.

“You know what I mean!”

They countered with mannequin-like silence.

“Acting!”

Their collective eyebrows shot up and Wyn laughed.

“You guys look crazy funny with your eyes all big like that.”

“What are you talking about, Wyn?”

Lisa asked.

Zach added.

“Acting is not your job. It’s what you do. Who you are. You act, Wyn. You can’t quit.”

“I can.”

He shook his head.

“I doubt that. You can’t quit. Just like Charla can’t quit writing or Lisa can’t quit painting.”

“I could never quit writing,”

Charla echoed.

Wyn shook her head.

“I’m fooling myself.”

She reached for the remaining pink drink.

“I am not an actor. I just play at it.”

The pink liquid slid down her throat.

“Not a real actor anyway,”

she mumbled. I am kidding myself.

Failure. Double failure. My parents are so proud.

Groan, she didn’t even want to think of her parents.

Acting is a nice hobby, her mother had frequently said, but we’re not paying for a degree for a hobby. Get that teaching certificate first.

“You realize that’s the third martini you’ve downed in less than twenty minutes?”

Charla pushed her glasses back up her nose. “Right?”

Wyn glanced up and shoved the conversation with her parents—the one that always made her stomach hurt—out of her head.

Charla stood, staring. She hated anything to the excess. Even if it was twofer night. Her minimalist viewpoint often grated on Wyn’s nerves. Minimalists should never go to bars. Bars were hard-wired for excess—drink, maybe food, sometimes pleasures of the flesh.

Oh dear. She was feeling a little fuzzy.

“Yes, Charla,”

she began.

“It is the third one. And in just a minute, I’m going to have a fffourth one, and then you all can put me in a little cab and drag my little ffffanny up that ffffreaking long set of stairs to our apartment and put me to bed. I’ve had one helluva week. I don’t wish to hash it over at the moment but rest assured I’ve done my last cattle, er...casting call. I just want to drink these pretty, pink...cosmerperatin things and pretend that I’m really J-Lo or Brit-Loo or somebody damned cute and rich and famous and married or something....”

Through the haze of her very fuzzy peripheral vision, she watched all three of their faces wax and wane—but that didn’t deter her. She curled her fingers around the stem of the final cosmerperatin and gulped it down. In the next motion, she watched Marty Friday’s face drift out of view above the bar as she slid off her chair toward the floor. Zach caught her before she made it all the way down.

“Bartender?”

He glanced up.

“Cab please.”

Wyn bolted straight up and threw her arms in the air.

“Wait. No. I’m good.”

“Like hell. We’re taking you home.”

“T’okay,”

she agreed.

“But first I gotta tinkle.”

Zach gave her a full frown.

“Make it snappy, sister. Lisa go with her.”

Wyn attempted to snap her fingers three times then gave it up. She latched on to Lisa’s arm and they stumbled two steps away from the bar.

“Snappy, frappy, cosmo-mappy. Sure thing, Zachy-poo. Be back in a snrap.”

****

Rob pinched the bridge of his nose and watched the last actor step off stage. Three solid days of auditions had tried his patience—not to mention he was cranky as hell from lack of sleep. As the young man’s footsteps faded, he closed his eyes and wished he was home in bed. Soon. Then he remembered he had to pick up the kids at his mother’s—the day camp he’d enrolled them in for Christmas vacation was off today—and that this day had probably been a very long one for her. Even longer for her than for him, likely. She usually just had the baby. Today, she had the boys too.

His brother’s four kids were a handful.

He nodded to Gina.

“I’m beat. Let’s meet for coffee in the morning and rehash some of this mess.”

He tossed the last portfolio onto the stack.

“I hope you’ve taken good notes. See if Greg can download his camera footage to us by morning. My brain hasn’t been on top of things today.”

Gina smiled.

“You know I’m organized as hell. Right?”

He grinned back.

“I do know that and I thank the universe for it daily. Lately, organization has not been my forte.”

Gina gathered the files.

“Well, you’ve had a bit of a lifestyle change and four kids are not easy to manage.”

“I’m sure my mom is going bananas right now.”

“She called three times.”

“What?”

“It’s fine. I handled it. But I’m sure she’s ready for you to relieve her.”

Rob sucked in a breath and nodded.

“No doubt. She’s going to be ready for the cruise she booked.”

He glanced down at his cell phone calendar.

“Hell, she leaves day after tomorrow. That means…”

Gina grinned even wider.

“That means you’ll soon be on your own, cowboy.”

“Hell.”

“Rob, you haven’t mentioned this the past couple of days so I’m going to. Jack says you need to go to L.A. early next week. He also says he wants me to find a nanny for the kids. Is that what you want?”

It wasn’t what he wanted; however, it had to happen. “Can you?”

She linked her arm in his and led him up the aisle.

“I already have an ad ready to go in the paper. I just need to them the go-ahead. I’m assuming you want me to make your travel arrangements to L.A.?”

He yawned and nodded, thankful that Gina was on top of it, as usual.

“Yeah. Do that. And thanks, Gina.”

She nodded.

“I’m also assuming you want to remain fairly anonymous with all of this. I was thinking that whomever we hire, we don’t let the nanny know who you are.”

He arched a brow and gave her a sideways look. “Why?”

“Well, was just thinking. With the negative publicity you’ve enjoyed the past few months, we wouldn’t want the tabloids to pick up on anything.”

He didn’t know where she was going with this.

“I don’t understand.”

Gina stopped and turned to him.

“Can’t you see the headlines? Playboy Rob Black ditches brother’s kids to party in L.A., or even worse, Rob Black is at it again—Is she the nanny or his lover?”

Rob’s shoulder’s fell.

“All right. I get your point. I can’t have my brother seeing my face plastered all over the tabloids in Europe and worrying about the kids. My sister-in-law would kill me, and him. She wasn’t so hot on my taking care of them anyway. Whatever you think is best.”

“I’ll handle it.”

“Great.”

They moved up the theater aisle in silence for a few seconds. Finally, Rob said.

“I guess it’s time to go get the little monsters.”

Then he laughed and Gina laughed with him.

“You love them.”

Rob agreed.

“That I do.”

He paused, and then added.

“It’s been good coming home, Gina. I don’t miss the rat race of California at all. My family needs me and truthfully? I need them more.”

Gina turned and gave him a serious look. He relied on her too much, he knew. She’d been with the company since the beginning and was directly responsible for their success.

“You’ve changed, Rob. And it’s a good thing. I know this transition is a little bumpy and unsettling but things will get better.”

Her empathy touched him and his heart warmed.

“I’m already better.”