Match Me If You Can

who gives great men's cuts.' She slid the business card across the table. 'You've got everything else together, so this will be easy.'

It hadn't occurred to him that he might be the one getting rejected, and his competitive instincts came into play. By the time they left the coffee shop, he'd begrudgingly agreed to both the haircut and to meeting Carole again. Annabelle told herself she was getting good at this, and she shouldn't let her mother or her troubles with Heath Champion plant all those seeds of doubt.

She entered Sienna's in a better mood, but things went to hell quickly. Heath hadn't arrived, and the De Paul harpist she'd arranged for him to meet called to say she'd cut her leg and was heading for the emergency room. She'd barely hung up before Heath called. 'The plane's late,' he said. 'I'm on the ground at O'Hare, but we're waiting for a gate to open up.'

She told him about the harpist and then, because he sounded tired, suggested he postpone his Power Matches date.

'Tempting, but I'd better not,' he said. 'Portia's really high on this one. A gate's opening up now, so I shouldn't be too late. Hold the fort till I get there.'

'All right.'

Annabelle chatted with the bartender until Portia's candidate arrived. Her eyes widened. No wonder Powers had been enthusiastic. She was the most beautiful woman Annabelle had ever seen…

The next morning Annabelle returned from her semiannual morning run to see Portia Powers standing on her porch. They'd never met, but Annabelle recognized her from her Web site photograph. Only as she came closer, however, did she realize this was the same woman she'd seen standing in front of Sienna's the night she'd introduced Heath to Bar-rie. Powers wore a silky black blouse crisscrossed at her small waist, shocking pink slacks, and retro black patent leather heels. Her inky hair was beautifully cut, the kind of hair that moved with the slightest toss of the head, and her skin flawless. As for her body… She obviously only ate on government holidays.

'Don't you dare pull another trick like you did last night,' Portia said the minute Annabelle's running shoes hit the porch steps. She oozed the brittle sort of beauty that always made Annabelle feel dumpy, but especially this morning in her baggy shorts and a sweaty orange T-shirt that said bill's heating and cooling.

'Good morning to you, too.' Annabelle pulled the key from her shorts pocket, unlocked the door, and stepped aside to let Powers enter.

Portia took in the reception area and Annabelle's office with a single disdainful glance. 'Do not ever… ever… take it upon yourself to get rid of one of my candidates before Heath has had a chance to meet her.'

Annabelle closed the door. 'You sent a bad candidate.'

Powers pointed one manicured finger in the direction of Annabelle's sweat-beaded forehead. 'That was for him to decide, not you.'

Annabelle ignored the fingernail pistol. 'I'm sure you know how he feels about wasting time.'

Portia threw up her hand. 'Can you really be this incompetent? Claudia Reeshman is the top model in Chicago. She's beautiful. She's intelligent. There are a million men who'd like a shot at her.'

'That may be true, but she seems to have some serious emotional problems.' A fairly obvious drug habit topped the list, although Annabelle wouldn't make any accusations she couldn't prove. 'She started crying before her first drink arrived.'

'Everyone has a bad day now and then.' Powers draped a hand on her hip, a feminine pose, but she made it look as aggressive as a karate chop. 'I've worked all month trying to talk her into meeting Heath. I finally get her to agree, and what do you do? You decide he's not going to like her, and you send her home.'

'Claudia was going through more than a bad day,' Annabelle countered. 'She's an emotional train wreck.'

'I don't care if she was rolling on the floor barking like a dog. What you did was stupid and underhanded.'

Annabelle had dealt with strong personalities all her life, and she wasn't going to back down from this one, even with sweat dripping in her eyes and bill's heating and cooling sticking to her chest. 'Heath's been clear about what he expects.'

'I'd say the sexiest, most sought after woman in Chicago exceeds his expectations.'

'He wants more than beauty in a wife.'

'Oh, please. When it comes to men like Heath, cup size wins over IQ any time.'

They were getting nowhere, so Annabelle did her best to sound professional instead of pissed off. 'This whole process would be easier for both of us if we could work together.'

Portia looked as if Annabelle had offered her a big bag of fatty junk food. 'I have strict qualifications for my trainees, Ms. Granger. You don't fit any of them.'

'Now that's just bitchy.' Annabelle stalked to the door. 'From now on, take your grievances right to Heath.'

'Oh, believe me, I will. And I can't wait to hear what he has to say about this one.'

What the hell were you thinking?' Heath bellowed into the phone a few hours later, not exactly yelling, but coming close. 'I just found out you blew off Claudia Reeshman?'

'And?' Annabelle took a vicious jab at the notepad next to her kitchen phone with a lollipop pen.

'I obviously gave you way too much power.'

'When I called you back last night and told you I'd canceled the introduction because she wasn't what you wanted, you thanked me.'

'You neglected to mention her name. I've never had a thing for models, but Claudia Reeshman… Jesus, Annabelle…'

'Maybe you'd like to fire me again.'

'Will you let it go?'

'How's this going to work?' She took another stab at the notepad. 'Do you trust me or not?'

Through the phone, she heard a car horn, followed by a long silence. 'I trust you,' he finally said.

She almost choked. 'Really?'

'Really.'

Just like that, she got a lump in her throat the size of the Sears Tower. She cleared it away and tried to sound as though this was exactly what she'd expected him to say. 'Good. I hear horns. Are you on the road?'

'I told you I was driving to Indianapolis.'

'That's right. It's Friday.' For the next two nights, he'd be in Indiana with a client who played for the Colts. He'd originally planned the trip for the following weekend, but he'd rescheduled because of the book club retreat she didn't want to think about. 'The way you keep going out of town on weekends makes scheduling these introductions challenging.'

'Business comes first. You sure did piss off Powers. She wants your head on a platter.'

'Along with a knife and some fat-free sour cream to help wash it down.'

'I didn't know Reeshman was still in Chicago. I thought she'd gone to New York for good.'

Annabelle suspected Claudia didn't want to be that far from her drug dealer.

'Do me a favor,' he said. 'If Powers sets up a date for me with anybody else who's posed for SI's swimsuit edition, at least tell me her name before you get rid of her.'

'All right.'

'And thanks for agreeing to help me out tomorrow.'

She drew a daisy on her notepad. 'What's not to like about spending the day running around town with your credit card and no spending limit?'

'Plus Bodie and Sean Palmer's mother. Don't forget that part. If Mrs. Palmer wasn't so afraid of him, Bodie could have done this by himself.'

'She's not the only one who's afraid of him. You're sure we'll be safe?'

'As long as you don't mention politics, Taco Bell, or the color red.'

'Thanks for the warning.'

'And don't let him get too close to anybody wearing a hat.'

'I'm going now.'

As she hung up, she realized she was smiling, which wasn't a good idea at all. Pythons could strike at will, and they seldom gave any warning.