Wish Upon a Matchmaker. Marie Ferrarella

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      Humor curved the corners of Maizie’s mouth. She’d never had a walk-in who wasn’t able to see over her desk before.

      But just as Maizie had gotten her newest would-be client to tell her story, an utterly frazzled-looking woman suddenly burst into her real estate office. The second she did, the woman made a beeline for the tiny visitor who was standing on the other side of Maizie’s desk.

      “Virginia Ann Scarborough, are you trying to give me a heart attack?” the blonde demanded as she fell to her knees and smothered the little girl in a huge hug that utterly reeked of relief as well as panic.

      “No,” the little girl replied in a small, somewhat contrite voice. Her pained expression told Maizie that the girl was merely enduring the hug. Apparently, unlike the distraught woman who’d found her, she hadn’t been at all afraid.

      “I was trying to find a mommy for Daddy,” the child explained, as if that would clear everything up and exonerate her as well.

      “You know you’re not supposed to run off like that, Ginny,” the woman chided.

      Making a swift survey of the little girl, the woman appeared satisfied that the only thing worse for wear were her own nerves. She rose to her feet and only then turned her attention to the other person in the room.

      “I’m very sorry about this,” she apologized to Maizie. “I hope my niece didn’t break anything.”

      “I wasn’t in here long enough to break anything, Aunt Virginia,” the girl protested indignantly.

      Maizie rose from behind her desk, a little bemused. “Are you her guardian?” she asked the woman, nodding at the little girl.

      “I’m her aunt.” She slanted an exasperated look at the little girl that was nonetheless laced with love. “Her long-suffering aunt. I swear, Ginny, if you weren’t named after me …” Ginny’s aunt let her voice trail off, then flashed another apologetic smile at Maizie as she took a firm hold of Ginny’s hand, her intent clear. She was taking the little girl out of the office. “I’m sorry about all this—”

      “No, please, wait,” Maizie coaxed in her best maternal, nurturing voice. “You look a little frazzled. Let me get you a nice cup of tea.” She glanced down at Ginny. “And I think I might have some lemonade for you if you like.”

      “Yes, please,” Ginny said with restrained enthusiasm.

      “No, really, we’ve been enough trouble already,” Virginia protested.

      “Nonsense. You’re no trouble at all and I must say my curiosity has been piqued,” Maizie admitted as she went to the small island against the wall that housed an all-in-one unit, combining a small refrigerator, a stove with microwave features and a sink on one side. With a minimum of movements, she made a hot Chai tea for Virginia and poured a glass of lemonade for the small whirling dervish who’d been named after her.

      “Now then, Ginny,” Maizie began, addressing Ginny as she handed her the glass of lemonade, “you said something about your daddy needing a wife.”

      Hearing that, Virginia’s eyes widened in stunned amazement. “Ginny, you didn’t—why would you do that?” the woman demanded of her niece.

      “Because she finds them,” Ginny told her aunt, nodding at Maizie. “Greg said so,” she said with the conviction of the very young.

      “This lady runs a real estate agency,” Virginia pointed out, her nerves beginning to fray no doubt.

      “Perhaps I should explain,” Maizie interjected, coming to Ginny’s rescue. “My friends and I dabble in matchmaking on the side—there’s no charge,” she said quickly in case the other woman thought this was some sort of a scam, “just the satisfaction of bringing together two people who were meant for each other but who might never—without the proper intervention—come together,” she said. Her eyes shifted to Ginny. “Like your friend Greg’s father and Tracy Ryan. My friends and I supply the ‘intervention,’ so to speak,” she told Virginia.

      “Is that why you begged me to bring you here, to the ice cream parlor?” she asked her niece.

      “They have very good ice cream,” Ginny piped up innocently.

      “See what I’m up against?” Virginia asked Maizie wearily.

      Maizie did her best to appear sympathetic. In her line of work, she’d had a great deal of practice. “Are you her father’s sister?” she asked.

      Virginia nodded. “His name is Stone Scarborough. I’m his younger sister. I moved in with him to help out after Eva—Ginny’s mother—died. That was a year and a half ago. I’m still helping,” she added.

      And you want to move on with your life, Maizie surmised from the other woman’s choice of words and her tone.

      Maizie sat back in her chair, her mouth curving in a smile of anticipation. She could sense the thrill of a challenge taking hold. Nothing she loved more than being challenged.

      “So, tell me about your brother,” she coaxed Virginia.

      “I don’t know where to start,” Virginia said with a sigh.

      “At the beginning is always a good place,” Maizie encouraged.

      “I guess it is.” Taking a deep breath, the other woman began to talk, with frequent interjections coming from Ginny.

      Maizie listened attentively to both.

      And a plan began to form.

       Chapter One

      Stone Scarborough stared at his younger sister, trying to make sense out of what she had, rather breathlessly, just told him.

      Whatever it was, Virginia seemed very animated about it and he’d managed to glean that it had something to do with the business card she had just pressed into his hand. But her narrative came out so disjointed he found himself feeling the way he had back in the days when he’d walk into the middle of a movie with his late wife—Eva never managed to be on time for anything no matter how hard she tried—and he was forced to try to make heads or tails out of what he was subsequently watching.

      In addition to Virginia’s overwhelming flow of words, his daughter, Ginny, seemed to have caught the fever and was fairly bouncing up and down right in front of him. It was as if both were experiencing a massive sugar attack.

      In an attempt to sort out the verbiage, Stone held his hand up to get Virginia to stop talking for a moment, regroup and begin at the beginning.

      “Run this by me one more time,” Stone urged his sister. “From the top,” he added.

      His sister Virginia shook her head, her light blond ponytail swishing from side to side. “You know, for a brilliant man, you can be so slow sometimes.”

      “Must be in comparison to the company I keep,” he said drolly. If he practiced for a year, he’d never be able to talk as fast as his sister—or his daughter. “Humor СКАЧАТЬ