Free Dating for Two (Matchmaking Mamas) by Marie Ferrarella Page A

Jason’s father. “I just need to impress one of these people and then Tex goes national.” She looked at her mother earnestly. “Mom, this is really, really important to me. It’s what we’ve been working toward for the last three years. If the toy chain likes us, this could be the difference in ultimately making it—or failing.”
    Eleanor rose from her seat and she smiled warmly at her daughter. She would have been proud of her no matter what she did and whether or not it was a success. The very fact that she was here at all was a miracle to her that she never took for granted. She wanted Erin to one day feel what she was feeling right now—overwhelming love for her child.
    “Success is wonderful, Erin, but it doesn’t keep you warm at night.”
    Erin gave her a wide, patient smile. “Oh, but it does if you’re successful enough to afford an electric blanket.”
    Eleanor laughed softly. “Okay, I give up—for now,” she added, then asked, “Dinner next week?”
    Right now, next week seemed light-years away. She would have agreed to almost anything just to be able to get her space back. She needed to get this presentation in top condition.
    “Sure. Dinner. Next week. See you then, Mom.”
    Coming around the desk, Eleanor paused just long enough to press a kiss to her daughter’s forehead. “Don’t work yourself to death, darling. Just remember, you belong to me—until you get married.”
    “You make a persuasive argument for marriage,” she quipped before beginning to type. “Goodbye, Mom.” And then Erin glanced up one last time to add, “Sorry about last night.”
    Eleanor merely nodded. “You’ll make it up to me,” she said knowingly.
    There was a strange promise in her mother’s voice that Erin didn’t catch until she played the words back in her mind a minute later. Erin looked up, but her mother had gone, closing the door behind her again.
    Erin shrugged. Maybe it was just her imagination going into overtime. In any case, she didn’t have time to try to figure out which it was and what her mother meant if it was some sort of promise. Right now she had a presentation to wrap up and that was all that really mattered.
    * * *
    It wasn’t until the next day, after she, Rhonda and Mike—with Gypsy in tow for when it came time to display their sales stats—had gone before representatives of The Toy Factory to pitch a number of her best creations, that Erin felt relaxed. The representatives had all been sufficiently impressed and said that they would talk to the board members but that they were very optimistic that they had a deal.
    A minor precelebration—she wasn’t about to call it anything else until there was a contract for her to sign—was in swing when she remembered her promise from the day before. Not to her mother but to the man her mother had tried so hard to get her to talk about.
    She’d promised Steve Kendall a replica of Tex for his son and she never broke a promise.
    At least not intentionally, she amended, thinking of the dinner at her mother’s that she’d forgotten about.
    What if Steve had told his son that the stuffed animal was coming in the mail? If she’d mailed it yesterday, then the boy would be anticipating it to arrive today. Even if she expressed it in the next few minutes, there was no way that it would be there in time. Suddenly, she had an image of the slight boy with the curly blond hair standing next to his mailbox, watching as the mailman stuffed only letters into the box before driving off. There were times when there was such a thing as having too much imagination.
    But that didn’t change the fact that the package wouldn’t get there today. She knew what it felt like to be disappointed. There was no way that she wanted to be the reason that a child experienced that feeling.
    Erin made up her mind.
    She looked around at the other people in the giant room that served as the area where they brainstormed, created and manufactured the toys that were