Free The Matchmaker Meets Her Match by Jenny Jacobs Page A

Something gooey, with nuts. And lots of it. She smiled back at Reston, who sat forward on the edge of the chair.
    “So tell me how it’s going,” she said.
No, don’t.
    “I knew your grandma.”
    “So you said.”
    “She was quite an adventuress, your grandma.” He gave a cherubic smile that told her way more than she wanted to know.
    “Sure was.”
    “She was in the Hungarian Resistance. Does anyone in your generation remember World War II?”
    “I’ve heard of it,” she snapped. Reston himself was far too young to remember it personally.
    His grin intensified and for a moment he reminded her of Jeremy. “She was quite a woman. You have a little of the look of her. Though I don’t think she was ever half as serious as you seem to be.”
    “She enjoyed her work,” Rilka said without thinking. Reston let out a guffaw and said, “And you don’t? You’d rather sit at a desk adding up rows of columns or typing on a keyboard all day?”
    What I’d like is to be an adventuress,
Rilka thought with a sudden stab of longing. Did they even make adventuresses these days? Or was it just icky Paris Hilton and her ilk, the kind of people no real woman would want to emulate?
    “Surely there are other options,” she said.
    “Could be, could be,” he said.
    He wasn’t here to offer her career counseling. She reined herself in and said, “So, please, tell me why you’re here.”
    “Ah, that’s easy. You know, your grandma set me up with my late wife, God rest her soul. Virginia was quite a woman. I don’t expect I’ll find another like her.”
    That was sweet. “But you want to try?”
    “Good heavens, no!” Reston said. “No, no, no. I’ll tell you what I want. I want a trophy wife.”
    Rilka inhaled tea. Someday she was going to learn to stop drinking when clients were talking. When the fit of coughing passed and she was able to get her breath back, he said, “Took you by surprise, did I? But I’ve decided I’ve earned a nice bit of fluff to go on my arm. I’ll leave her a nice sum of money, I can guarantee that upfront. And I could feel affection for the right girl. I’m sure the right girl could feel affection for me.”
    “I’m sure, too,” Rilka said sourly. “I have just the person in mind.” Natalia, a young blonde-from-a-bottle had visited her a few weeks ago, explaining she was looking for a sugar daddy. Rilka had sighed and said she’d see what she could do, though she hadn’t actually intended to do anything.
    I hate my life,
Rilka thought.
I’ve got an old goat who wants a trophy wife and the truly depressing thing is I have a candidate on the books.
    “You’ll have to take her someplace disgustingly expensive,” Rilka warned him. “Bring her a dozen roses. Pick her up in a limo.”
    “I know how to do my part,” Reston said. “What’s her name?”
    Anything you want it to be,
Rilka thought
, if the price is right.
“Natalia.”
    “That’s a nice name.”
    “She is not a nice girl.”
    “That’s all right,” Reston said happily. “Saturday, eight P.M. , I’ll pick her up.”
    “Sure. I’ll arrange it,” Rilka said.
Right after I take a shower to get the ick off
.
    • • •
    “Didn’t mean to keep you waiting,” Rilka said, opening the door. It was just Jeremy so she didn’t have to be on her best behavior, but she felt like she owed him an explanation. “I was just taking a shower.” It hadn’t washed away the stain of her sin, but it had relaxed her slightly. Maybe. Or maybe she needed another shower and some industrial strength de-grimer.
    Jeremy nodded and rolled into the room. “Not a problem. Your neighbor’s dog ran off and I ended up chasing him down, so I was late anyway.”
    “Mrs. Olsen’s dog? That ugly little peekapoo creature? Why she doesn’t keep him on a leash I don’t know. But it was nice of you to help.”
    “I’m a nice guy.”
    “I’m sure that’s true,” Rilka said. “But I’ll have to take your word for