Page 125 of Match Me If You Can (Chicago Stars 6)

“Winning is everything to you. The joy of the kill is your life’s blood.”

“Not when it comes to you.”

“Don’t do this! It’s cruel. You know who you are.” Her eyes filled with tears. “But I know who I am, too. I’m a woman who won’t settle for second place. I want the best,” she said softly. “And you’re not it.”

He looked as though she’d slapped him. Despite her own pain, she hadn’t wanted to hurt him, but one of them needed to speak the truth. “I’m sorry,” she whispered. “I won’t spend my life waiting around for your leftovers. This time persistence isn’t going to get the job done.”

He didn’t try to stop her as she left the dock. When she reached the sand, she crisscrossed her sweater over her chest and hurried toward the woods, ordering herself not to look back. But as she stepped onto the path, she couldn’t help herself.

The dock stood empty. Everything still. The only movement came from a bunch of balloons drifting off into the bleak October sky.

It didn’t take her long to pack. A tear dripped on her hand as she zipped the suitcase. She was so sick of crying. She picked up the bag and made her way numbly out the front door. With each step she took, she reminded herself that she’d never give up who she was for anyone. She came to a dead stop. Especially not for a man who’d blocked in her car with a sporty silver Audi…

He’d done a good job of it. A giant oak kept her from moving forward, and the Audi prevented her from going in reverse. The temporary Illinois tags left no doubt whose work this was. She couldn’t bear another encounter with him, and she dragged her suitcase back inside the cottage, but she’d barely set it down before she heard tires on gravel. She went to the window, but it wasn’t Heath. Instead, she glimpsed a dark blue sports car coming to a stop behind the Audi. The woods extended just far enough to block her view of whichever guest had decided to explore the campground.

It was all too much. She sank down on the couch and buried her face in her hands. Why did he have to make everything harder?

Light footsteps tapped on the porch, too light to be Heath’s. She heard a knock. Dragging her feet, she rose, crossed the room, opened the door…and screamed. To her credit, it wasn’t a horror movie scream, more of a yelpy kind of gaspy thing.

“I know,” a familiar voice said. “I’ve had better days.”

Annabelle took an involuntary step backward. “You’re blue.”

“A cosmetic procedure. It’s beginning to peel. May I come in?”

Annabelle moved aside. Even without her blue face, which had begun to crack like a cheap alligator purse, Portia hardly looked her best. Her inky hair lay flat against her head, clean but not styled. Her white sweater had a fresh coffee stain on the front. She’d gained weight, and her jeans were a size too tight.

Portia took in the cottage. “Have you talked to Heath?”

“What are you doing here?”

Portia walked toward the kitchen and poked her head in and out. “Claiming my last introduction. You chose Delaney Lightfield. I choose you. Welcome to Power Matches. Let’s see if we can find you some makeup? And a decent outfit wouldn’t hurt, either.”

“You’re nuts.”

She gave Annabelle a surprisingly cheerful smile. “Yes, but not as nutty as I used to be. It’s interesting. Once you’ve terrified a restaurant full of people—a Burger King near Benton Harbor—you’re basically liberated from ever again worrying about keeping up appearances.”

“You went into a Burger King looking like this?”

“Potty stop. Plus Bodie dared me.”

“Bodie?”

She smiled, her blue lips making her very nice teeth look a little yellow. “We’re lovers. More than lovers. In love. Bizarre, I know, but I’ve never been happier. We’re getting married. Well, he hasn’t agreed yet, but he will.” She studied Annabelle more closely and frowned. “From those red eyes, I can see you talked with Heath and that it didn’t go well.”

“It went very well. I told him no and walked away.”

Portia threw up her hands. “Why am I not surprised? Well, as of now, playtime is over. You amateurs have had your fun, but it’s time to step aside and let a professional handle this.”

“You have clearly lost your mind, not to mention your looks.”

Surprisingly, Portia didn’t take offense. “My looks will be back in spades. Wait till you see what’s underneath all this.”

“I’ll have to take your word for it.”

“I told Heath not to talk to y

ou without me, but he’s pigheaded. And you…Of all people, you should have known to be more sensitive. Haven’t you learned anything about this business? Two different men have ordered me not to call you a twit, but, honestly, Annabelle, if the shoe fits…”

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