Set Up in SoHo (The Matchmaker Chronicles) Read Online Free Page B

much else.” Althea settled on the edge of the bed, her face lined with concern.
    “How did you know I was here?” I asked.
    “I got a phone call from a total stranger.” She said it as if it were the most egregious of sins. “He had your cell phone, and apparently you have me on speed dial.”
    Stupid mistake.
    “Sorry. Couldn’t be helped. I was unconscious.” I tried for an irritated frown, but only succeeded in a grimace of pain. “Is he still here?” There was no doubt in my mind who she was talking about. And just at the moment I really wanted to see him—to thank him, of course.
    “No. He had to leave. Said to tell you not to worry about the jacket—whatever that means.”
    “Nothing, really. Did you get his name?” The answer suddenly seemed amazingly important, and I waited, holding my breath.
    “Ivan or Aaron or something,” Althea said. “I don’t know. I wasn’t concentrating on him. I was worried about you.”
    “Oh.” Disappointment swelled, and I immediately felt guilty. It was the situation. Or some kind of reaction. What was it Patty Hearst had had? Stockholm syndrome? Well, I guess that’s not the same thing, but you know what I mean. Clearly, it had to be some sort of illusion. I’d just lost Dillon. I couldn’t possibly be interested in another man.
    I shook my head, immediately regretted the motion, and then closed my eyes, waiting for the world to stop spinning.
    “Are you all right?” Althea’s worried gaze swam before my eyes. “The doctor said you might have a concussion.”
    “I feel a little woozy, that’s all.”
    “So, want to tell me what happened?” she asked, taking my hand.
    Of course I didn’t, but Althea can be rather tenacious when it comes to extracting information.
    I remember once when I was fifteen, Olivia Brookston and I snuck out to go to a club. We figured everything that was worth happening in Manhattan happened after our curfew. Armed with fake IDs, we managed to get in and were just high-fiving our success over Singapore slings (what can I say—I was a kid and umbrella drinks seemed really cool) when my aunt arrived and dragged us both home. I was grounded for a month, and to this day I still have no idea how she knew where we were.
    The point being, Althea has a knack for knowing exactly what it is you don’t want her to figure out. Maybe that’s how she manages to snare so many successful Manhattanites as clients. It wouldn’t surprise me a bit. I mean, at the end of the day, knowledge is power.
    Anyway, better to just come clean.
    “I fell into a bodega cellar.”
    “I gathered that much. But your rescuer said something about your boyfriend?”
    “Well, he didn’t push me, if that’s what you’re thinking.”
    “Of course not.” She shook her head, but I could tell that she wouldn’t have put it past him. Which in some weird way was actually comforting. Even though it came from Althea. “But he did have something to do with it.” She crossed her arms. Waiting.
    I sighed. “Indirectly. You were right about Diana Merreck. He’s been seeing her.”
    “Behind your back?”
    “Is there any other way?” I asked, feeling miserable. As angry as I was at Dillon, I loved him. Or at least I had. No, I guessed I still did. Everything at the moment seemed a bit confusing. “Although after he came clean, he did suggest dating us both.”
    “And you told him to go to hell.” Althea’s tone made it a forgone conclusion. Which, thankfully, it was.
    “Yes, but it wasn’t as easy as you’re making it sound. I’ve been with Dillon practically forever.”
    “Three years is not forever, Andrea,” Althea said with a frown. “And besides, he was never right for you.”
    “Well, I thought he was.” It was a stupid time to argue, considering that Dillon’s recent admission had more than proved her right, but there was no way I was going to admit that. “And besides, maybe he’ll get home tonight and regret the whole thing.”
    “And