“The region does extend beyond the town limits,” Connie conceded.
“It includes Annapolis,” Laila explained, pulling a brochure from her pocket and handing it to Jess. “See, Lunch by the Bay. Doesn’t that sound lovely? And that’s all we’d be committing to, an occasional lunch with someone new. It has to beat waiting around to be noticed in the bar at Brady’s. If I spend any more time in there, Dillon’s threatened to name a barstool after me.”
“At least you’d have a lasting legacy of your life in Chesapeake Shores,” Jess teased. “Much better than having your picture on the wall of that stodgy old bank your family owns and that you’re so attached to.”
“Make fun of me all you want, but I really think we should do this,” Laila insisted. “We’re intelligent, attractive women. We deserve to spend time with exciting, successful men who aren’t related to us.”
“And I for one am tired of the Saturday night pity dinners at Jake and Bree’s,” Connie added with a shudder. “Ever since Jenny left, they expect me to come there and coo over the new baby. She’s a cutie, but that is not how I see myself spending Saturday nights for the next who-knows-how-many years.”
“I’ve had my share of those dinners,” Jess agreed, “but at least I get passed off from Bree to Abby to Kevin and now even Connor.”
“I don’t even get the pity dinners,” Laila said. “Trace and Abby just count on me to babysit the twins. If I’m not married soon, they’ll probably move me in and make me a full-time nanny.”
“You have a career,” Jess reminded her. “I’m pretty sure you can maintain an independent lifestyle.”
“Independence sucks,” Laila declared.
“Amen,” Connie added. “Not that I want some man controlling what I do with my life,” she said emphatically, “but it would be nice to cuddle with someone in front of the fire at night.”
“Say what you really mean,” Jess said. “You want sex.”
Connie sighed. “Don’t we all?”
“So, are we going to do this?” Laila asked, tapping the brochure.
Though she was hardly known for her caution, Jess couldn’t seem to keep herself from asking, “But what do we know about this company?”
“Only what it says in the brochure,” Laila replied, glancing at the back page. “It promises discreet matches, handled by a psychologist who’s been working with single clients for years. He’s developed criteria for making sure that people have the same goals and values.” She set down the brochure and regarded them earnestly. “Come on, you guys. What do we have to lose? If the dates are awful, we can laugh about them later over drinks at Brady’s.”
“I’m in,” Connie said at once. “Jess?”
Jess glanced at the paperwork on her desk. It wasn’t going anywhere. “What the heck! I’m in.”
She turned and flipped on her computer, checked the link to the company’s website and found it. “Nice design,” she said approvingly.
“See, it looks perfectly respectable,” Connie noted.
“And I love the picture,” Laila said. “I’m pretty sure it was taken right on Shore Road. See, there’s the town fishing pier off to the left.”
“Aren’t you worried that we could wind up being paired off with someone we already know, even someone we used to date?” Jess asked. “That could be humiliating.”
“Or it could make us take another look at him,” Connie responded, her expression thoughtful. “After all, if an expert thought we’d be a match, maybe we were selling the other person short.”
“Or maybe the expert isn’t all that smart,” Jess countered.
Still, when the form for signing up appeared on the screen, she was the first one to fill it out. She considered the temptation to fake her replies just to see what might happen, but Connie and Laila forestalled her.
“You have to take this seriously,” Connie scolded.
“We’re expecting a computer and some so-called expert to do what we haven’t been able to do on our own,” Jess replied. “And you want me to take it seriously?”
“I do,” Connie said. “Because this could be my last chance.”
“It is not going to be your last chance,” Laila said fiercely. “If you’re going to look at it like that, Connie, then maybe you shouldn’t do it. Desperation is never smart when it comes to meeting men. We’re doing this for laughs and a few free lunches, that’s it. We need to keep our expectations low and just concentrate on having fun.”
Jess nodded. Connie didn’t look entirely convinced, but when Jess’s form was complete, Connie immediately nudged her aside and took her place in front of the computer. Laila followed.
When the last form had been sent in, they exchanged a look.
“I need a drink,” Jess said.
“I’m in,” Laila said.
Connie nodded agreement. “I think I’d better make mine a double.”
* * *
One of the few things that hadn’t changed since Jake had married Bree was that he, Mack Franklin and Will Lincoln continued to have lunch every day at Sally’s. The lunches had started when Jake needed support after he and Bree had split up a few years ago. Now that they were together again and happily married, the lunch tradition had become an occasion for the three men to keep their friendship grounded. Will counted on these two men more than either of them probably realized.
As a psychologist, Will spent his days listening to other people’s problems, but he didn’t really have anyone other than Jake and Mack to listen to his. Even though the three of them knew just about everything concerning each other’s lives, there was one thing Will had been keeping from them for a while now: his new business, Lunch by the Bay.
The dating service had been born out of frustration. He spent way too much of his time counseling singles on the relationships in their lives and way too little of his time nurturing any kind of relationship of his own. The name of the company, which had come to him
