Bachelor Boys Read Online Free PDF Page B

anything for Phoebe.
    Almost anything, I should say. “Of course I’ll help you,” I said. “But
before we start, I must make one thing very clear. I know what you’re thinking, and the answer is no.”
    Her eyes widened innocently. “What? What are you talking about?”
    â€œYou’re hoping I’ll marry one of them myself.”
    Phoebe laughed, not at all guilty. “Why not? You’ve loved them both since you were tiny.”
    â€œThey’re like my brothers.”
    â€œNot any more. It wouldn’t take much for you to fall for one of them properly.”
    â€œSorry, but I would have done it by now.”
    â€œI’d be so happy to know they were with you!”
    â€œI couldn’t marry both of them, anyway,” I pointed out. “Why don’t you advertise for a nanny?”
    Her optimism wavered. I softened my tone. “Sorry, but I’m spoken for.”
    â€œMatthew.” Phoebe had met Matthew several times. I had taken him to Sunday lunch at the Darlings’, on a day when I knew there would other people present to take some of the blame for the inevitable smoking and swearing.
    â€œYes,” I said.
    â€œSo you think Matthew is the one.”
    Hadn’t I told her this? “Yes,” I said again.
    â€œI didn’t realize he’d proposed.”
    â€œWell, not proposed exactly. Not in so many words.” This was a sore point. Matthew talked about marriage, but very distantly. It always seemed to be part of his ongoing fantasy about picking up a tip from a client, making a huge killing on the market and retiring at thirty-five. He had said he loved me, but not often—not nearly as often as I wanted to hear it. And he had never said, in so many words, that it was actually me he wanted to marry.
    â€œSo you’re not engaged yet?” (She was as bad as Betsy—this obsession with having it all official.)
    â€œNot officially,” I said. “We haven’t set a date.”
    â€œOh well,” Phoebe said. “I’m a bit disappointed for the boys, but Matthew struck me as terribly nice. His lovely begonia is still a mass of blossoms.”

    I laughed at that. I liked the way Phoebe coupled people with the plants they gave her.
    And as soon as I had laughed, I could have cried. Matthew had to ask me soon. I wanted Phoebe to see us married.
    Phoebe’s mind had moved back to the “problem” of her boys. She reached for a notebook and pen on the little table beside her. “I thought we’d start by making a list of all their best qualities.”
    â€œTheir selling points,” I suggested, trying to keep a straight face. This wasn’t going to be a long list, so the new notebook was a bit superfluous. Oh God, had she bought it specially, thinking it would make us more businesslike? Jimmy would have howled.
    â€œThat’s right,” Phoebe said happily.
    â€œOkay.” I realized she was waiting for me to say something. “Shall we start with Fritz?”
    â€œGood idea—I knew I was right to enlist you.” Beaming, Phoebe scribbled in her notebook, muttering the words as she went. “Frederick James Darling—widely known as Fritz—age thirty-one—professional actor.”
    Her pen hovered. She was quiet. Unkindly, I didn’t fill in the silence. I wanted her to see that there was precious little left to say, as far as selling points were concerned.
    â€œLovely singing voice,” she added.
    Another stretch of silence.
    â€œAbsolutely sweet to his mother.”
    I let out a snort of laughter. “What a catch!”
    Phoebe asked, “Don’t I make him sound good enough?”
    â€œIf anything,” I said, “you’re talking him up too much. ‘Professional actor’ might make some poor girl think he’s had a decent job.”
    Her candid brown eyes were reproachful. “We won’t get very far if you