Perfect Match

“Saved by the bell,” she teased, and then she saw an expression of frustration and guilt cross his face. “You really should answer that,” Hannah said, seeing his jaw twitch in annoyance. “I’m fine now...really. Thanks for everything.”

He glanced at the number and then put the phone away. “I didn’t do anything.” He lifted her chin with his forefinger. “Keep your chin up.” He smiled and then started to walk away.

“Wait. At least tell me your name. What is it?”

He bent down and plucked a buttercup and handed it to her. “You already know it. Just say my name four times and I’ll come.”

“That’s not how the story goes.”

“That’s how our story will.” His mouth spread into a smile that was as intimate as a kiss, and then he turned and walked away.

Hannah watched him go, holding the flower close to her chest, wishing she could hold on to him instead.

* * *

“And you didn’t get his name?” Hannah’s assistant, Bonnie Li, said in disbelief. They sat in Hannah’s new office, which was still not completely furnished but serviceable. At least the front receptionist’s area looked impressive. She’d had a stroke of luck because one of the tenants in the building where their office was located had just been evicted. They had left behind several pieces of furniture and lamps, which she and Bonnie had eagerly snatched.

The two women had met in college and become fast friends. Like Hannah, Bonnie hadn’t lived up to her parents’ expectations, either. Small and lithe, she’d trained to be a dancer until a torn ligament ended that dream. Bonnie had a mind to go into sports medicine, which was a profession frowned upon in her Chinese family of three doctors and two university professors. But she’d jumped on board with Hannah despite the low pay, discovering a love for organization and helping people. She looked young for her age of thirty, but she dressed up to appear older. After reading several books on how to make over oneself, she had cut her waist-length black hair short and colored it a striking reddish-brown. She had lovely almond-shaped brown eyes and an attractive slender figure. But there was nothing delicate about her—she liked dirty jokes and the occasional Jack Daniel’s. Bonnie pointed at her friend. “What is wrong with you?”

Hannah threw up her hands, helpless. “At first I thought he was crazy. I mean, I looked a mess and he was going on as if he was so happy to see me.”

“Tell me how good-looking he was again.”

“I’ve already told you twice.”

“Tell me again.”

“No, there’s no point. I’ll probably never see him again.”

“Maybe he’ll call you.”

“He couldn’t remember my name, either.”

“Maybe he was teasing you.”

“Perhaps,” Hannah said, doubtful. “But he definitely made my day brighter, especially after my call from Abigail.”

Bonnie feigned a shiver of fear. “So, how is the queen of horror?”

Hannah laughed at her friend’s description. “She’s not that bad.”

“No, she’s worse. In a horror film she’d be the monster.”

“Well, right now she’s preparing to be homeless.”

“And it’s all your fault,” Bonnie said, mimicking Abigail’s tone.

Hannah nodded, her spirit dimming. “Yes.”

“Does she have a reason to really worry this time?”

Hannah sighed. “Unfortunately, yes. It’s really looking bad, but I have another option I’m going to try. The guy I met in the park gave me the phone number for another contractor to try. Maybe he can give us a lower estimate.”

“It’s a start. I hope you get to see him again,” Bonnie said, returning to what she was doing.

“Me, too,” Hannah said in a soft tone.

* * *

“Where have you been?” Hector Ramirez demanded when Amal stepped into his office. “I’ve been trying to reach you.”

Amal walked past him. “I was busy.”

Hector followed him and then paused and studied him with a knowing look. “You met a woman, didn’t you?”

Amal shook his head and sat. “It wasn’t like that.” Hector was a man of thirty-seven with dark eyes and prematurely gray hair that gave him a distinguished look despite his boyish features. Amal liked him, trusted him and rarely kept anything from him. But this time was different.

“I knew it would be a woman.”

Amal didn’t care what he thought. He wasn’t in the mood to discuss it with him. Hector was his trusted friend, but somehow the meeting in the park was something Amal wanted to keep to himself. There was something special about it. He just wasn’t sure what yet.

“What line did you use with her?” Hector asked with a smug grin. “How pretty is she? Wait, don’t answer—with you they’re always gorgeous. Was she a model? An actress? A nurse?”

“No.”

“Did you just get her name and phone number, or did you get her address, too?”

“What did you want to tell me?”

Hector paused, flabbergasted that his questions had been ignored. That wasn’t typical of Amal. “What? You’re not going to tell me about your latest conquest?”

Amal sat back in his chair, keeping his expression neutral. “I told you it wasn’t like that.” He held up his hand before Hector could speak. “What’s the news?”

Hector sighed. “You’re serious? You’re not going to tell me anything about this woman?”

Amal slowly blinked and waited.

Hector loosened his tie. Amal was a fun and easygoing guy when he wanted to be, but he could also be a hard SOB when the mood struck him—such as at this moment. He sat and bounced his leg up and down, trying to control his pent-up anxiety and gather the courage to tell him what he knew Amal didn’t want to hear. “It’s bad.”

Amal blinked again, his gaze narrowing slightly.

Hector cleared his throat. His tie was loose, but it still felt as though it threatened to strangle him. “The thing is I—”

“Just tell it to me straight,” Amal said, his tone too quiet to be natural.

“The Brenton Law Firm said no.”

“I see.”