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Chapter 3

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When Melanie walked into her office the following day, the team had already assembled. No matter how appealing a client might be or how much money they had, it was protocol that the decision to take on a new client was unanimous.

“Hey, Aunt Mel,” the trio said in unison.

“Morning, troops.” She set her cup of coffee on the side table. “Everyone have a good time last night?”

“Absolutely,” they agreed.

Melanie took a sip of her coffee and settled down on the overstuffed couch. Her office was an eclectic blend of functionality and comfort. Her high-tech equipment was housed inside floor-to-ceiling wooden cabinets that were rolled out for use. The video screen was mounted on the wall for full presentations of clients and their prospects. The bay windows looked out onto the bluffs and ocean beyond. Pale peach walls were adorned with one-of-a-kind pieces of art. Glass and chrome were the focal accessories, with conversational seating throughout. Fresh flowers graced the tables, shipped in weekly from the florist. This was TPS central, where all of the decisions were made.

“I’ve done some preliminary work on Mr. Montgomery and Mr. Lawson,” Veronica said, “based on observation and what I was able to pull from the Internet. I’ll have a full profile of each once we set up the meeting.”

“You certainly didn’t waste any time,” Melanie said. “Let’s see what you have so far.”

Veronica pressed a button on the console and the screen lit up. The first screen was filled with basic data about Claude and Rafe—date of birth, physicality, where they lived, profession, education and relationship status.

Melanie stared at the near life-sized images of Claude and felt her body come alive in response. She knew she’d have to keep her lusty thoughts to herself if she was going to be effective in finding a suitable match for him.

The sound of male voices coming in their direction drew everyone’s attention. Moments later Alan stuck his head in the door.

“I thought I smelled smoke,” Alan joked. “All this brain power brushing up against each other like kindling.”

“Very funny,” Melanie said.

“I brought company.”

Claude stepped into the frame of the door. “Good morning.”

“Morning.”

Melanie’s heart banged in her chest and a sudden rush of heat flooded her body. She shifted in her seat, reached for her coffee cup, realized her hands were shaking and changed her mind. She folded her hands in her lap.

“He insisted that I stop by today,” Claude explained. “I told him I should have called first for an appointment.” He was talking to everyone in the room, but his gaze had settled on Melanie.

Her throat was bone dry.

“Not a problem,” Jessica said. “Roni was just going over your preliminaries.”

“Was she?” Claude’s brows rose in question. “And what might those be?”

“Basic data,” Veronica said matter of factly. In addition to being the profiler of the business, Veronica was an Internet and computer whiz. If there was a grain of sand to be found, Veronica would find it. She had search programs and software that Melanie didn’t want to know anything about. Google was archaic as far as Veronica was concerned.

“It’s all protocol,” Melanie said, finally finding her voice. “We build a profile on all of our clients. It’s how we make an appropriate match.”

Claude crossed the room. Melanie caught a subtle whiff of his scent. Her pulse fluttered. He sat down in one of the matching side chairs.

“Sounds very…calculated, for lack of a better word.”

“Part calculation, part chemistry,” Jessica offered.

“Our responsibility is to match the wants and desires, intelligence and personality of two people, and ask all the questions that two people who are attracted to each other never ask until it’s too late.”

Claude stretched his long legs out in front of him. Alan clapped him heartily on the shoulder. “They’re really pretty harmless,” he teased.

Claude glanced up at his friend. “You sure? I sorta feel like a science project.”

“Once we match you up with the woman of your dreams, you’ll forget all about this technical stuff,” Melanie said with a wave of her hand.

Claude zeroed in on Melanie. “Is that a promise?” His eyes moved across her face, heating everywhere they landed.

Melanie slowly stood. “You’re in very good hands.” She picked up her mug and walked out. Alan followed.

“Thanks for doing this, sis.”

“Sure. Business is business. Claude seems like a good guy. I’m sure we’ll find someone for him.”

Melanie caught the serious tone in his voice. She looked across at her brother. “What aren’t you telling me?”

“Nothing that you won’t find out.”

Melanie stopped walking and folded her arms. “If there’s something I need to know, tell me, Alan.”

Alan inhaled deeply. He dug his hands into his pants pockets. “About ten years ago, Claude was engaged. On his wedding day, his fiancé’s limo was in an accident on her way to the church.” He looked down.

Melanie’s hand went to her chest. “Oh, I…I’m sorry.” Her eyes flew toward her office. She could see Claude in conversation with the team, fully engaged, laughing and nodding. Her spirit ached. She knew all too well about that kind of loss, the emptiness that was left behind. After Steven she had her grandmother and her mother to pull her through and then the business. Who had been there for Claude? Had he ever found closure? Was his job all he had? The questions nagged at her like an itch in the center of your back—difficult to get to.

“He’s not like me. He’s more than his job,” Alan said as if reading her thoughts. He leaned down and kissed her cheek. “I’m going to run into town. Buzz me on my cell when your team has finished picking my man apart.” He winked and strode out, leaving Melanie with thoughts of Claude swirling in her head.

Melanie was in her sitting room, putting together the list of potential guests for her annual Summer Jam. Claude left several hours earlier with Alan and was given the assurance that TPS would be in touch with him shortly. Vincent logged in Claude’s $25,000 deposit and created a file for him. Jessica and Veronica were busy putting together a complete profile of Claude based on their extensive interview.

As hard as she tried, she couldn’t keep her mind on the task at hand. Her thoughts and unsettled emotions kept getting in the way. Giving into her frustration, she closed the social calendar software program on her computer with the intention of getting a light snack. Just as she got up, her office phone rang. It was nearly five o’clock, the official end of the business day, she thought, mildly annoyed. She started to let it go to voicemail when she thought about the mantra of her business. “It’s never too late or too early to deal with a paying or potential client.”

“The Platinum Society, Melanie Harte speaking,” she answered in her cheerful professional voice.

“I would think you would have someone else doing the mundane task of answering the phone,” the definitively male voice said, the slight Creole accent unmistakably that of Rafe Lawson. “However, I couldn’t be happier that it’s you.”

“Mr. Lawson.” She sat back down.

He chuckled. “Ah, the lady remembers.”

“I tend not to forget names, faces and voices.”

“I’ll keep that in mind.”

“What can I do for you?”

“I’m picking up where we left off. My father is insistent that I find myself a suitable woman who can make an honest man out of me. You indicated that you were up for the challenge.”

“My company,” she clarified, not wanting to head off in the wrong direction.

“Of course.” He breathed into the phone. “So…where do we begin?”

“I’ll switch you over to Jessica, and she’ll set up an appointment.”

“I’m leaving for the West Coast tomorrow afternoon. I hope you can slip me in before then.”

His statement sounded innocent enough, but Melanie didn’t miss the sexual innuendo. She chose to ignore it.

“If there is a time slot, I’m sure we will accommodate you.”

“Actually it would only take a little over an hour to drive out there. You’re in Sag Harbor?”

“You’ve done your homework.”

“I like to know who I’m getting in bed with…so to speak.”

Melanie’s body flushed. “Hold on a moment.” She placed the call on hold and pressed the button for the main office. Veronica picked up.

“Hey Aunt Mel, what’s up?”

“I have Raford Lawson on the line. He wants an appointment as soon as possible. He’s leaving to go out of town tomorrow afternoon.”

“Let me check with Jess.”

Melanie tapped her manicured nails against the table while she waited.

“We can see him this evening if he’s really insistent or first thing tomorrow at nine.”

“Thanks. I’ll get right back to you.”

She took Raford off hold. “Tonight at seven or tomorrow morning at nine. Your choice.”

“The sooner the better. I’ll see you shortly.” He hung up without saying goodbye, a testament to his arrogance.

Slowly Melanie hung up the receiver. Her gut told her that Raford Lawson was going to be a handful of trouble. And she was just the one to put him in his place, even if he was a senator's son.

Heart's Reward

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