CHAPTER TWENTY-NINE
The house on Peach Drive was typical of the homes in the affluent suburb of Newton—two-story, white clapboard, well maintained. It sat back from the street in the middle of a sprawling, manicured lawn ringed by tall, leafy trees and blossom-laden shrubbery. Heather had no idea what kind of trees or shrubs they were, nor did she care. Nature had never been her thing. Pink flowers, red flowers—what difference did it make? What interested her far more was the prominentFOR SALEsign at the side of the road. And the name of the listing agent writ large across its bottom: Matthew Dixon.
She pulled into the driveway and put her car in park, although she left the engine running. It was hotter today than yesterday, even at almost six o’clock in the evening. Mercifully, it had stopped raining. Still, she couldn’t risk the lingering humidity doing weird things to her freshly coiffed hair, so staying in reach of the car’s air-conditioning was a must. She checked her image in the rearview mirror, grateful to see that the Clearasil had done its job. Yesterday’s budding blemish was now little more than an unpleasant memory, although if you looked closely, a vague outline of it remained.
Heather doubted Matt would look that closely. Just in case, she undid the top two buttons of her white blouse, adjusting her breasts to peek out from the top of her white-lace, push-up bra.
She hadn’t bothered with panties.
He should be here any minute,she thought, checking her watch. And wouldn’t he be surprised! She laughed, pleased at her own cleverness.
She’d spent most of the morning on her computer, investigating houses for sale in the surrounding suburbs, zeroing in on Matt’s listings. “Aren’t you the busy little bee?” Kendall had commented from across the aisle, erroneously assuming Heather was actually doing her job.
Heather had selected the house on Peach Drive because of its proximity to the city proper. While it was important she choose a property away from the Boston core in order to minimize the risk of running into anyone she knew, there was no point in casting her net too far afield. Besides, she’d always hated the suburbs. She often joked that she developed nosebleeds when she strayed too far from Beacon Hill.
Next, she’d called Matt’s office and spoken to his assistant, giving the woman a phony name, and telling her she was interested in seeing the house on Peach Drive as soon as possible. “Mr. Dixon says he can meet you there at six o’clock this evening,” the assistant told her after checking with Matt, who was out of the office on another showing. “Would that work for you?”
It would indeed, Heather thought now, a slow smile spreading across her face. She stole another glance at the rearview mirror, her eyes smiling mischievously back. At exactly six o’clock, a car pulled to a stop on the street in front of the house. Heather watched Matt step out of his car, adjusting his beige linen suit jacket and smoothing back his hair before striding confidently up the driveway, every arrogant step proclaiming dominance over his domain.
Heather took a deep breath and pushed open her car door.
Matt’s smile was firmly in place and his hand already extended in greeting as the high heels of Heather’s pink, open-toed shoes made contact with the intersecting gray bricks of the driveway. “Mrs. Turner?” he asked, approaching.
Heather paled. Was it possible he didn’t recognize her?Oh, God. How embarrassing!
Matt’s smile dissolved as he drew nearer, his eyes narrowing. “Heather?”
Thank God,Heather thought. “Fancy meeting you here,” she said with a laugh.
“I don’t understand. What are you doing here?”
“Waiting for you.”
“I think there must be some mistake.” He glanced at his watch. “I’m meeting a client here at six o’clock.”
“Mrs. Turner,” Heather said.
“Yes. Do you know her?”
“Iamher.”
He seemed startled. “You got married?”
Heather laughed. “No. God, no.”
“I don’t understand,” he said again. “You told my assistant your name was Mrs. Turner? That you were interested in buying this property?”
“And that part is true,” Heather improvised, hearing a hint of anger mingling with the confusion in Matt’s voice. “About wanting to see the property. Noah and I have been talking about maybe buying a house in the area.”Damn it,she thought. Of course Matt would be confused and angry. He’d driven to Newton expecting to find an eager buyer, pocket an easy commission, and instead he’d found…her.
What had she been thinking? What if Matt were to speak to Noah?
Although that was highly unlikely, she assured herself. The two men had never been friends and there was no reason for them to get chummy now. Noah had always considered Matt something of a jerk, and had only tolerated him because of Paige’s friendship with Chloe. Now both Paige and Chloe were out of the picture, and Noah was…well, teetering at the edge of the frame. “I didn’t think you’d agree to see me if I used my real name,” Heather explained, anticipating Matt’s next question. “Because of Chloe and Paige and Noah and everything.”
“Never really understood that friendship, to be honest,” Matt said, his earlier swagger returning to his eyes. “Always thought Noah could do better.” He grinned. “Nice to see he has.”
Heather felt a flush at her cheeks and a tingle between her legs.
“Besides, I never let my personal life interfere with business. You really think you might want to buy this house?”