Free By Magic Alone by Tracy Madison Page B

to moisten my mouth before putting on my most professional smile.
    A man in his midthirties entered my office. He looked vaguely familiar, but I couldn’t place him. Probably, he just had one of those faces. His top-of-the-line charcoal suit fit him in a way that bespoke a professional tailor. Which meant money. He stood average height, around five foot ten, and his dark hair had the tiniest amount of salt dotting his temples. His chin was more soft than hard, but not enough to detract from his appeal, and he had the greenest eyes I’d ever seen. So green, my guess was on colored contacts.
    That, and the fact he wore a matching green tie to show off those emerald peepers, told me he put a lot of stock in appearances. Diane was right, though.
Doll
described him well.
    I held out my hand and he shook it with a firm grip. I liked that. Glancing at my monitor, I said, “Nice to meet you Mr. Johnson. I’m Julia Collins, the owner of Introductions.”I nodded toward the twin chairs in front of my desk. “Please take a seat.”
    “Thanks. I’m happy to be here.” Settling himself, he tossed me a grin that turned him from doll to debonair. Wow.
    “May I get you some coffee, water, tea?” I asked, slipping into flight-attendant mode.
    “Nope. I’d rather get right to it.” He had this slow, lazy way of talking that oozed charm. I wondered how many hours he’d spent practicing to get the perfect cadence. My guess was most of his twenties. “I’m rather anxious to get started.”
    Just what I wanted to hear. “Why don’t we start informally? In your own words, what brought you to Introductions?”
    “I’m tired of the dating scene. It gets old, especially when you’re as busy as I am.” He steepled long, tapered fingers under his chin. “Saw one of your ads, I don’t recall where at the moment, but figured, why not? Created an account, filled everything out, and here I am.”
    A quick decision maker. Something else I liked. I filed that away for future reference. “I was hoping we could go through your profile together. That way, I can ask questions as we go along to deepen my understanding of the type of woman you’re looking for.”
    “So you don’t prescreen before meetings?”
    Of course he’d ask that. “Normally, I do. But your profile just came in yesterday and I was running late today. I’m sure we can get through everything relatively quickly.”
    I expected him to be annoyed. This wasn’t the most professional way to run a first-time meeting, and this guy hadn’t fallen off the turnip truck. Instead, though, a pleased expression darted over him. He rubbed his hands together. “Perfect. Let’s get started.”
    I gotta say that I was feeling really positive about this guy. If the rest of the appointment went well, I’d have a check in myhand and a match for him in no time. Turning my attention to the computer screen, I read, “You’re thirty-five, have lived in Chicago your entire life, you’re a . . . monster-truck driver?” Okay, I’d never met one of those before. I sifted this new information in with what I’d already gathered. “Is that your only line of work?”
    “Oh, no. It’s not even my most exciting line of work, but it gets my adrenaline going. Really more of a pastime.” Leaning forward, he squared his elbows on my desk. “I think . . . yes, go down a few more questions.”
    My gaze traveled down. “Oh. You . . . recycle cans and bottles to earn money? And . . . make ‘special’ videos?” My voice squeaked. Seriously? “What kind of videos, Mr. Johnson?”
    “All types of videos. You wouldn’t believe the market for a camera guy who will shoot just about anything.”
    “Weddings? Graduations? Things like that?” Oh, God, let him say yes. “Birthdays and anniversaries?”
    “Um. Sure. Those, too.”
    I swiveled in my seat, facing him. “What else, Mr. Johnson?”
    “Bar Mitzvahs. Bat Mitzvahs.” Waggling his eyebrows, he said, “All-girl slumber parties.