Free A Match for the Doctor by Marie Ferrarella Page A

part, the woman was equal handed, giving both the same amount of attention.
    No doubt about it, she was good. And, he supposed, he could learn from her. Meghan, and especially Madelyn, looked happier than he remembered them being in a long time.
    â€œYou know, if this decorating thing doesn’t work out for you…” Simon began after he realized that he had cleaned his plate not once, but twice. Only the fear of settling in for an evening nap rather than doing the work he’d brought home had kept him from taking a third helping. “…you could always get a job as a chef,” he continued.
    Or as an all-round whirling dervish, he added silently.
    Humor highlighted her face, fluidly moving from her lips to her eyes. She looked very pleased with herself. He supposed she had every right to be.
    â€œI’ll keep that in mind.” Her eyes captured his.
    He had no idea what she was thinking, nor why he felt so intrigued by her.
    â€œCould I count on a letter of recommendation from you?” She asked so straight-faced he actually thought she was serious for a moment. Until the slight telltale curve of the corners of her mouth returned and subsequently gave her away.
    Simon shrugged. “Why not?” he replied.
    â€œHigh praise, indeed,” she quipped dryly. “Don’tworry, the only recommendation I’m interested in has to do with decorating.” She had no intention of doing anything else, ever. “I’ve been in the decorating business for a number of years and I’ve ridden out a lot of highs and lows. This dip in the economy is all part of that.”
    Although she had to admit it would be nice to get back to the point where she was juggling assignments, looking for a way to squeeze yet another one in, rather than waiting for the phone to ring so that she had something to do. Until this assignment—if indeed it actually was one—had come along, she’d quietly begun paying Nathan out of her personal account because the business account was close to flatlining.
    â€œAnd speaking of references,” she threw in, switching gears back to his initial comment, “my references are available for viewing anytime you’d like to look them over.” She had a website, plus an actual physical file where she kept her letters of reference, all of which were glowing.
    But Simon waved away her offer, uninterested. “No need,” he told her.
    She looked at him in surprise. He struck her as a belt-and-suspenders kind of man, taking precautions, making sure everything was on the up-and-up—and then devising a backup plan just in case. Did this mean he’d changed his mind about hiring her for the job?
    â€œYou don’t want to see my references?” she asked, wondering why he’d suddenly switched courses. Had she said something to offend him?
    â€œRecommendations from people I don’t know don’t impress me,” he told her. “An enthusiastic one from someone I know or have dealt with—like Ms. Sommers—does. She seemed to be very high on yourability to, in her words, turn a ‘sow’s ear into a silk purse.’”
    Since Maizie was her aunt, the endorsement could be misconstrued as nepotism. But while Maizie would never bad-mouth anyone, she would never praise anyone if she felt their work was lacking in any way. She was far too honest to lie.
    â€œNothing quite that drastic,” Kennon assured him. “But I have been able to turn some pretty awful rooms into lovely extensions of the client’s home, bringing up the total value of the house.” Warming to her subject, she rose from the table, ready to make a quick run to her vehicle. “I’ve got an album of my work in the car that I can show you.”
    His words stopped her in her tracks.
    Wiping his mouth, Simon retired his fork. “You can save yourself the trouble, Miss Cassidy. I don’t have time to handle the job