Heart’s Choice
CELESTE O. NORFLEET
Heart’s Choice
Dear Reader,
We hope you enjoy Heart’s Choice, the second book in Arabesque’s MATCH MADE series. This summer, we are introducing the Platinum Society, an exclusive matchmaking service run by Melanie Harte—a third-generation matchmaker—for wealthy, high-profile clients.
In Heart’s Choice, by Celeste O. Norfleet, the story centers around love, loss and sacrifice. Actress Jazelle Richardson, Jazz, has suffered a devastating tragedy and is finding it hard to put her life back together. Pro quarterback Devon Hayes has just signed with the Platinum Society in hopes of finding that special someone who can deal with his celebrity lifestyle. Both find it difficult to trust, but they soon learn that the heart’s choice is the only one that truly matters.
Next month, look for Heart’s Reward by Donna Hill to find out if the Platinum Society can continue to create matches made in heaven. Be sure to read the first book in the MATCH MADE series, Heart’s Secret, by Adrianne Byrd.
Evette Porter
Editor
Arabesque
To fate and fortune
Contents
Prologue
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Chapter 9
Chapter 10
Chapter 11
Chapter 12
Chapter 13
Chapter 14
Chapter 15
Chapter 16
Chapter 17
Chapter 18
Chapter 19
Chapter 20
Epilogue
Prologue
The view of the water off Sag Harbor bay was the perfect backdrop to the Platinum Society’s morning meeting. Set behind an arbor of century-old maple trees and massive azalea and hydrangea bushes, the scene created an air of peacefulness and serenity. It was the ideal setting for what was an inscrutable business—finding someone their perfect match. The Platinum staff sat in large Adirondack chairs under a veranda with a whitewashed wooden awning, facing the water as they reviewed the interview podcasts of prospective clients.
Melanie Harte, owner of the Platinum Society, watched each podcast with intense scrutiny. Every detail, every tic and nuance, helped in her matchmaking. The slightest inflection in voice or altered mannerism revealed subtle clues as to what her clients really wanted in their perfect soul mate.
Melanie believed the answer was in details and delighted in her hands-on approach. She was old school. Often she made her decision about a couple based on insight few understood. She knew most clients wanted one thing, but actually needed something else. It was her job to discern that need and satisfy it with the perfect mate. She scanned through her exclusive database, selecting promising candidates for each client.
Her two nieces, Veronica and Jessica, sat across from her. Both were extremely competent in their roles. This morning they had developed a strategy to optimize their clients’ success. Veronica was the company’s profiler. She had a knack when it came to matchmaking that came naturally. It was the same keen insight that her great grandmother and grandmother had. That, plus her psychology degrees, gave her an understanding few could equal. At times her matchmaking suggestions seemed unconventional, but the results were almost always right.
Jessica was the company’s concierge, stylist and makeover maven. When it came to the aesthetics of romance, she was without equal. She knew fine art, food, fashion, entertainment, wines, travel and the sensory elements of romance that contributed to successful matchmaking. Her skill and connections to nearly every aspect of the art of romance were astonishing.
Vincent, Melanie’s nephew, was the only male member of the staff. He was the company’s business manager and financial wiz. His contacts and reputation procured many of the Platinum Society’s clients.
After a brief discussion about a prospect, followed by a unanimous decision, the Platinum team moved on to their next client.
“Okay, who’s next?” Melanie asked.
“Devon Hayes,” Vincent said. “There’s a problem. None of the dates we’ve sent him on have worked out.”
“How did his last date go?” Veronica asked.
“He didn’t feel a connection,” Jessica said.
Vincent nodded.
“That’s three women he chose with no success,” Jessica added. “I think it’s time we take the lead. He’s obviously looking for someone he believes he’s not seeing.”
“I agree,” Melanie said. “We’re not a dating service. Our job is to help our clients find love in order to have a lasting, committed relationship. At this point we’re obviously missing something.”
“Or maybe not,” Veronica said. “Look, we’ve had pretenders before. Exactly how serious is he about settling down?”
“Devon isn’t the type of man to do anything frivolously or halfway. When he makes up his mind about something, he sticks to it. I’d say he’s very serious. But the problem is he’s lost perspective. His last serious relationship ended in near disaster, the one after that almost cost him his career. He doesn’t trust his own instincts, and that’s not good for him personally and professionally. Don’t let the bravado fool you. He’s really troubled by this.”
“Okay. Well, then, let’s see what we can do to help him. We’ll start from the beginning and take another look at his profile and podcast. I want everyone’s observations,” Melanie said.
Veronica nodded and pulled up Devon’s profile. “Okay. Devon Hayes—African-American, thirty-two years old, grew up in New York City and Sag Harbor. He’s a self-made millionaire, but also comes from old money on his mother’s side, new money on his father’s. He’s charming, intelligent, intuitive and used to getting what he wants.”
Vincent continued with the profile. “He’s a quarterback and designated franchise player with the Los Angeles Stallions. He doesn’t follow the rules, which makes him stand out. He has an international finance background, and when it comes to making money, he’s brilliant. His personal net worth is conservatively over eighty-five million.”
Jessica continued as she pressed a computer key and brought up several photos to detail his physical description and personal interests. “He’s six foot three inches, obviously well built, medium brown complexion, dark eyes, very handsome. He has a bad-boy reputation and his primary interests include sports, art, music and travel.” She uploaded and played his podcast.
Unlike most of their other client interviews, which were usually very serious and sober, Devon’s was more laid back and relaxed. His answers to the questions seemed honest and concise but lighthearted. He seemed to think he knew exactly the type of women he wanted in his life. There was nothing particularly unusual that stood out. Like most of their millionaire clients, he was a bit self-centered and conceited.
“What’s his wife package sound like?” Jessica asked.
“He’s looking for an intelligent, attractive woman in her mid-twenties who can easily fit into the lifestyle he’s created for himself. He wants her to be demure, quiet and completely devoted to him and his career. He also wants her to stay as far out of the spotlight as possible. With that in mind, we’ve sent him out on dates with two prominent businesswomen and an end-of-career supermodel. None of them worked for him, although it seems that all three women instantly fell in love.”
“Let’s see the podcast again,” Melanie said.
Veronica pressed the laptop keystroke and played the podcast again. One thing in particular immediately stood out to her. “Anybody know anything about his parents?” Veronica asked.
&
nbsp; “They’re divorced. There was no pre-nup, and it got very, very nasty. There were charges of infidelity and abuse countered by theft and emotional cruelty and abandonment. He and his sister were front and center for most of it,” Vincent said. “His father is an ex-football player, and his mother is in real estate now. Both are remarried. He lives in Dallas. She’s here in Sag Harbor.”
“So not exactly happily ever after,” Jessica chimed in.
Melanie nodded. “Apparently Devon learned some pretty difficult lessons about love and commitment in all that drama. That’s why he’s only interested in women who are totally wrong for him. With them he never has to worry about falling in love and repeating his family’s history.”
“That would explain his previous dating pattern—starry-eyed groupies who are totally into him. There’s never a chance of him getting emotionally involved,” Veronica added.
“He’s never going to have a lasting relationship like that,” Jessica said.
“And we’re feeding his fears by giving him exactly what he wants—more of the same,” Vincent said.
“I say it’s time for him to break the cycle,” Jessica replied. Melanie nodded in agreement.
“Exactly,” Veronica said. “What he needs is a woman who is just as much a celebrity as he is. She also needs to match him dollar for dollar or be well-off enough to hold her own.”
“Think bigger. He needs more than that. He needs someone totally different, someone who doesn’t care about his celebrity, someone who has her own life,” Melanie said. She stood and walked over to the far rail. The view was breathtaking, but she had little time to contemplate it. Her line of vision did connect with something, or rather someone. “He needs someone who’s not caught up in the trappings of fame and thus doesn’t necessarily need him to define herself. He needs a woman who’s self-sufficient and couldn’t care less about his money or his career.” Melanie turned and smiled. “Can it really be that simple?” Vincent, Veronica and Jessica looked at each other, confused. “I believe our answer has been right here all along.”
“What do you mean?” Vincent asked.
“She means Jazelle Richardson,” Veronica said, smiling.
“She’s perfect,” Jessica added. “Not to mention they’d make a great couple.”
“What’s our strategy?” Vincent asked.
“Good question. It’s been almost three weeks, and Jazz has yet to leave the house. How do we introduce them?” Jessica asked.
Melanie thought a moment then smiled. “Is Devon coming to the party this weekend?”
“Yes,” Jessica said, quickly checking her list.
“Good. We’ll introduce them at the party. If there’s chemistry, and I’m certain there will be, then we’ll proceed from there. Jessica and Vincent, I want you to take the lead on this one.” Melanie looked at them with a knowing smile. They were all on the same page. “Okay, we gave him what he asked for and what he said he wanted. Now I think it’s time that we give him what he needs. We’ll match Devon Hayes with Jazelle Richardson. Are we all agreed?” Everyone nodded. “Okay, we’re decided. Let’s do it.”
Chapter 1
FADE IN:
INTERIOR PARTY—NIGHT
Camera.
Roll sound.
Scene one. Take one.
Cue background.
Action.
She was alone. Jazelle Richardson stopped at the foyer mirror and spared one last glance at her reflection before going downstairs to the party. She had to admit, she looked like her old self again, almost. With her signature diamond-stud earring in the shape of a star, she sparkled like the precious gem she was. She turned to the side, examining the black cocktail dress she’d finally decided to wear. It was perfect, not too bold, not too daring. It made a statement: she was back.
Six months of reclusiveness had been enough. In those months she’d traveled and spent a lot of time thinking about her life, something she seldom had time to do before. As a successful actress and entertainer, she’d moved from character to character without much time to be herself. Her brother’s death forced her to do just that. After he died, she walked away from her charmed life with a definite purpose in mind: to find herself again. Somewhere along the way she had become a parody of herself, playing a role, being someone she no longer recognized.
Turning her body, she took a deep breath then tilted her head from side to side, examining her face closely. She looked completely different now. Few people would even recognize her. She’d trimmed her long honey-blond hair and dyed it back to her natural color, her face was thinner and her eyes were far less brilliant. But she still had the deep rosy blush that seemed to always tint her cinnamon-toned complexion. The glint in her eye never reached her heart. But always the consummate actress, she knew she could pull it off for one evening. After all, they were all waiting to see her. And who could blame them.
She knew rumors had been flying about her for months. The tabloids loved her because the tragedy that was her life sold papers. Every time she stepped out of the front door another story had been concocted in the media. One had her in a suicide pact with her brother. Another had her locked away in a psychiatric hospital and yet another had her moving to Tibet and joining a monastic sect.
The absurdity of the reports made her chuckle as it always had. Her brother, Brian, taught her that. They always made fun of the tabloid stories. It was their private joke on the rest of the world. Brian… The thought of him brought it all back like a movie trailer caught in an endless loop. She chuckled again, remembering Brian mimicking a booming baritone voice-over detailing her life.
VO: The melodrama that is Jazelle Richardson’s life is scripted daily. The star of this tortured existence lives a never-ending drama, performing for the entertainment and amusement of the media and anyone else who feels the need to partake of her tragedy. Tonight we find our heroine attending a lavish soirée, the first in years. Will she succeed in rejoining society or turn and run away again?
Her life, she mused, was the perfect juggling act of melodrama, comedy and tragedy. The precarious balance, she sometimes found, was now a little wobbly. It had been that way since birth. Dialogue, locations, cast, crew and extras changed all the time. But she remained the tragic heroine; that part never changed.
Jazz turned, hearing the sound of laughter coming from the party downstairs. She sighed, thinking that she was not looking forward to the next few hours. But a promise, was a promise especially to Melanie Harte. She owed her. Not just for herself, but for her mother. Melanie had come to the rescue when she needed her. She was also a godsend in helping her mother, and if going to her party would even begin to repay that debt, it was the least she could do.
Everyone knew that when Melanie Harte threw a cocktail party, you best believe it was going to be the talk of Sag Harbor for the next week. Mel’s lavish party tonight marked the opening of the Hampton’s summer season. Soon the small resort town would be inundated with celebrities from New York, Boston and as far away as L.A. and London.
Despite its size, the party was strictly for friends, a few locals and, of course, a nice smattering of her most successful clients. After all, what would a Melanie Harte Platinum Society cocktail party be without a little matchmaking? But matchmaking and the thought of falling in love was the last thing Jazz needed or wanted.
Love was not in the cards for her. In her twenty-nine years, she’d climbed higher than she ever imagined. She pushed herself constantly to be the best, knowing that it was more to prove to the naysayers and critics she could do it than for the money and celebrity. Now she had proved she could make it. She expected to be happy, but she wasn’t. She was lonely, and now, with Brian gone, the realization was even more obvious.
She sighed, refocused on the image in the mirror and stiffened her chin. The sadness in her heart echoed the sadness she felt earlier that day, but she refused to give in to it. “I can do this,” she assured herself, forcing a smile to her lips. She wore very little makeu
p, with her hair styled flat-iron straight with subtle highlights that gave her hair a sun-kissed look. Hers was the face of numerous cosmetic ads that touted radiant beauty, lustrous skin and flawless makeup. Funny, she didn’t feel particularly radiant or lustrous right now. She didn’t particularly feel much of anything.
She’d long since relinquished all hope of being happy. The best she hoped for was pleasingly attractive. After all, it was appearances that mattered in her world. Her mother’s words suddenly came to mind. “If you look the part, then you are the part. Always appear above it all, so even if your heart is breaking, they should never know.” But they did know, and now the words that had always shadowed her had suddenly become meaningless. The media saw her heartbreak and used it against her.
Hiding out was the only thing left to do, so she traveled. Fiji, Tahiti, Madagascar, anywhere they’d never heard of her, but she knew she couldn’t hide forever. So for the last three weeks she’d kept a low profile at her friend’s in Sag Harbor.
Tonight would be her first public appearance in months. “I can do this,” she repeated, puckering her gloss-covered lips. “Okay, Jazelle, you’re on.” Then childishly she stuck her tongue out at her reflection. Hearing laughter, she looked quickly.
Jessica Harte stood smiling. “Now that’s the Jazz we all know, love and adore.”
“Hi, Jess,” Jazz said, seeing her friend’s reflection behind her in the mirror. “I’m glad that was you and not someone less understanding.”
“Why, everybody knows you have a wry sense of humor.”
“Not everybody,” she said, finally turning around and nervously smoothing the perfectly fitted evening dress.
“Girl, check you out, you look fantastic,” Jessica said, walking up behind her. Jazz smiled then touched her hair, which was already perfectly in place. “See, I knew there was some spark of the old Jazelle Richardson in there somewhere.”
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