Take a Chance on Me

by Vanessa Devereaux

  Evernight Publishing

  www.evernightpublishing.com

  Copyright© 2012 Vanessa Devereaux

  ISBN: 978-1-927368-95-4

  Cover Artist: Jinger Heaston

  Editor: JC Chute

  ALL RIGHTS RESERVED

  WARNING: The unauthorized reproduction or distribution of this copyrighted work is illegal. No part of this book may be used or reproduced electronically or in print without written permission, except in the case of brief quotations embodied in reviews.

  This is a work of fiction. All names, characters, and places are fictitious. Any resemblance to actual events, locales, organizations, or persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental.

  DEDICATION

  For Richard Thompson and all the others who serve their country.

  TAKE A CHANCE ON ME

  Perfect Pairing

  Vanessa Devereaux

  Copyright © 2012

  Chapter One

  Disciplinary Hearing: Witches’ Realm Board v. Sadie Sutton

  Sadie bit her bottom lip. She wasn’t looking forward to this day, but it was her own fault. Who would have thought having a little fun would get her into this much trouble with The Board?

  “And how much damage was done to her neighbor’s car?” asked the chairwoman, Margery.

  Sadie slid down on the chair. Holy shit. She knew the answer to that: a hell of a lot. Mercedes Benzes aren’t cheap things to fix.

  “Twenty-five thousand dollars, and there was also damage to the front lawn and part of his house when he drove the car into the living room,” said Becca, flicking through her notes. That had been his own damn fault. He should have hit the brakes as soon as he’d felt himself careening into the front yard.

  “And Mr. Mooney. Did he suffer any injuries?” asked Margery.

  Becca turned back to the first page. Sadie glanced down at her fingers, pretending to check her nails. Sadie knew what was coming next, and for that reason couldn’t bring herself to look Margery in the eye.

  “He broke his nose. He needed ten stitches in his forehead, and is still recovering from a broken leg.”

  Sadie slyly looked up for just a minute. Margery pulled her glasses down to the tip of her nose and glared over their rims. She tried not to look her directly in the eye, but Margery, being older by 175 years, had more power and Sadie couldn’t resist.

  The older witch beckoned her over to the chair directly in front of the table with the five head elders.

  Sadie stood, her legs wobbling as she made her way over to them. She’d only meant to teach her neighbor a lesson and have some fun at the same time. After all, he’d backed over her newly planted petunias and begonias. How could she have known he’d held no malicious intent but was just one shitty driver? And when she’d sent a little hocus-pocus his way, how could she have guessed that her powers would be strong enough to cause mayhem?

  Margery raised her finger and let it fall swiftly. Next thing Sadie knew her butt had hit the chair with force. Obviously she’d been daydreaming and hadn’t heard the request to sit. Margery wasn’t known for her patience, or her leniency, for that matter.

  “And what do you have to say for yourself, Sadie Sutton?”

  “I’m sorry.”

  “A little late for that. It’s not surprising that we witches and warlocks get a bad name when you do awful things like this to innocent mortals.”

  Sadie swallowed. She somehow knew she wouldn’t like the sentence that was about to be handed down.

  “I think the punishment should fit the crime. I’d like you to do something that will benefit mortals in the nicest possible way, and am therefore assigning you to work with Nadine.”

  Oh, God. No. The woman wore nothing but pink and worked with everything connected with love and sex in the universe. Sadie didn’t know the first thing about either.

  “I don’t think it would be a good match, because…”

  Margery raised her hand. “Where are your manners? I haven’t told you to speak, nor to argue with your sentence, for that matter. You will work with her and take on whatever assignment she gives you, and hopefully you won’t get yourself in any more trouble.”

  “And how long is this assignment to be?”

  “Ah, yes, I have to decide upon a punishment level. Let’s say fifty years, shall we? And you’re to report to her immediately.”

  Margery snapped her fingers and before Sadie had a chance to even open her mouth again she sat opposite Nadine, who was checking over Sadie’s council hearing papers. A bright pink boa adorned her neck and shoulders and she tapped the desk with her frosted pink nails as she read.

  “So I have you for fifty years,” she muttered.

  Sadie rolled her eyes, hoping Nadine didn’t catch it.

  “I saw that. And might I just add that here in the love department, there is no room for cynics…”

  “I don’t know the first thing about love among the mortals.”

  “You’re here to learn. You do know that we arrange for couples to meet in the first place, don’t you?”

  “We make people fall in love?”

  Nadine shook her head. “Not exactly. I mean, they’re destined for one another, but sometimes they need a little help getting together, you know? Just a little push, and that’s where we step in.”

  “Sort of like matchmakers?”

  “Exactly,” said Nadine, punching the air.

  “So how do we do that?”

  “That’s going to be your new job. I’m getting a bit too old to do all the work, so you’ve come along at the right time.”

  Sadie had heard that Nadine was actually 400 years old, but lied about her age on her driver’s license.

  “Oh, and I should tell you that we’re also responsible for mind-blowing orgasms, too. If you ever come across a couple who need a little help in that department, that is.”

  Sadie almost choked on her own spit.

  “I have to arrange for mortals to…you know…?”

  “Well, you help them just a tad. Most women would be very disappointed if we didn’t enhance things a little. Yes, some mortal men have no idea how to make a lady go cross-eyed or what to do to curl her toes. Quite sad, really.”

  “So, what’s my first assignment?”

  Nadine snapped her fingers and her file cabinet rolled open. A thick folder overflowing with papers flew through the air and landed with a thump on her desk.

  She slid it across to Sadie. “Here you go: a list of couples we need to get together. Read through them and start to make notes of who belongs with whom.”

  Sadie was about to raise her finger in the air and direct it at the folder when Nadine slammed her fist down on the desk, making her pink tea cup jump so high it careened off the desk before shattering on the floor.

  “Darn it, that was my favorite one,” said Nadine. “You are not to use your witches’ skills for this.”

  “But I’m a witch, and this is the love department.”

  “It’s your punishment. You will match them up with non-witching skills.”

  Sadie looked at the folder. Shit, this would take all of fifty years.

  “Go on, off you go. And no getting into any trouble. You’re to report back to me in a week, at which time I want to hear you’ve got at least one couple together.”

  Sadie grabbed the folder and headed outside. She snapped her fingers and returned to her house to live among the mortals. She flopped down onto the couch, glanced out the window and noticed her neighbor outside in his yard. He still had his leg in a cast and was sitting on a chair, suntanning.

  Sadie knew she should go and apologize to him. She realized she’d been downright mean. But first, she had to find two people to pair. Sh
e opened the folder and looked at the case histories and photos. This would take forever. She couldn’t use her witching skills, but there had to be an easier way to do this.

  An idea came to her.

  What better way to do the work than to get someone else––a mortal––to do it?

  She’d open a matchmaking service. That would narrow it down. People would sign up and she could read their profiles and pair accordingly. Sadie closed the folder with a smile on her face. Maybe this punishment wouldn’t be so bad after all.

  “You did what?”

  Mitchell ran his hand over his head, and for the first time in a decade felt what could be considered actual hair and not the short stubble he’d grown accustomed to. He glanced in the mirror: this new look would take some getting used to.

  This whole way of life will take some getting used to.

  “You still there?”

  His brother Ryan’s voice jarred him back to more important things, like this blind date Ryan had arranged without asking him first. After a bad experience, Mitchell had vowed never to try again. He’d thought he made that more than clear to his baby brother.

  “Yeah, I’m here…and I’m still pissed at you.” He sat on the bed.

  “You shouldn’t be, because I went to a lot of trouble to arrange this for you.”

  “You know I hate blind dates. In fact, it was you who set me up on the last disastrous one, while I was home.” He spotted a loose thread in the quilt and began to pick at it.

  “Guilty as charged. However, this time it’s going to be different.”

  “Different?” Mitchell scooted up the mattress and leaned back on the headboard.

  “It’s not me who’s done the matching. I signed you up at Perfect Pairingi.”

  Mitchell pulled the phone away from his ear, looked at it and knitted his eyebrows together. The real Ryan Farraday must have been abducted by aliens, because who the hell was this guy? Ryan just wouldn’t pull this sort of crap, especially on a family member.

  “So you’re telling me you’ve signed me up for an escort service?”

  “No, no, absolutely not. It’s not like that at all. I was listening to a show…well, Julie listens to this radio sex show, and the host was interviewing this lady named Sadie Sutton who runs a matchmaking service.”

  “I’m not thinking of dating or being matched right now.”

  “Will you just hear me out? She said she’s had great success with pairing up couples who are perfect for one another, but the likelihood of them finding each other is zilch, so she brings them together.”

  “I can find my own dates…when I’m ready.”

  “I’m sure you can, but I thought if I signed you up you might get your confidence back in a safe environment.”

  Mitchell took a deep breath. He had other things to think about now besides women, dating and sex. And just what the hell had his brother meant by “safe” environment?

  “You know I’ve never liked going on dates with women that someone else has picked for me, especially some matchmaking service. I mean, what if she’s a psychopath or something?”

  “I looked into that for you. I’ve got your best interest at heart, and believe me, this lady does an in-depth check on everyone. You’ve already been screened thoroughly.”

  Shit, he’d been what? Without his permission?

  “Look, Ryan, I don’t care if the woman’s been screened by the FBI or Homeland Security. I don’t do this sort of thing, and shame on you for thinking I’d say yes.”

  “Too late, because I’ve already paid for it and it’s non-refundable. And what I haven’t told you is, the service comes with limo to a hotel, where you’ll spend the night getting to know your dream girl. Just think of it as your welcome home gift from me.”

  “Don’t think I don’t appreciate it, but the answer is still no.”

  “You’re not getting off this easy,” continued Ryan. “When’s the last time you had sex?”

  They’d shared all sorts of secrets, but Mitchell didn’t feel comfortable answering for one simple reason. He hadn’t had sex since…

  He squeezed his eyes shut. He didn’t want to go there. No, he wouldn’t go there again. Truth was the last time he’d made love was when Debbie had seen his leg for the first time and abruptly called off their engagement.

  “It’s been a while.”

  He’d leave it at that.

  “Define a while.”

  “You know, little brother, you’ve become a major pain in the you-know-what since I’ve been gone. I think we need to sit down and have a good talk.”

  Ryan laughed. “It’s been more than six months, hasn’t it?”

  “If you don’t quit this third-degree shit, I’m putting the phone down.”

  “It’s when you and Debbie…”

  “That’s enough.”

  Mitchell scooted down the bed. He hadn’t meant to shout at his brother, but right now all he really wanted to do was hang up. However, he enjoyed hearing Ryan’s voice. It felt so good to be less than an hour’s drive from the only family member he had left.

  “Wouldn’t you prefer having sex with a woman rather than resorting to self-satisfaction?” Ryan pressed.

  “Who says I jerk off?”

  “Mitchell, you’re a guy and it’s perfectly normal.”

  Mitchell glanced at his face in the mirror. Shit, he’d turned deeper red than a beet.

  Okay, it was true he had been pleasuring himself more than normal since he’d been back home. He’d just put it down to nerves and the frustration of adjusting to civilian life again. However, resorting to daily masturbation wasn’t a valid enough reason to sign up with a matchmaking service.

  If he was supposed to meet another woman, fate would step in, not his brother and this crazy sounding matchmaking service. But, knowing Ryan like he did, he knew he wouldn’t let the subject die. Mitchell might as well agree to it and get the night over and done with, matter closed. He’d just have to make sure it would be on his terms.

  “Okay, you win. I’ll go meet this perfectly screened woman, but I can assure you I won’t like her. And if you think I’m having sex with her, well, you’ll wait a long time to hear I’ve done that.”

  Chapter Two

  Rachel put both palms over her crotch and pressed down, hoping that would take the edge off the burning sensation flowing through her groin. Crap, it had hurt like hell. And she’d been through five operations, so it wasn’t as if she had a low pain tolerance. The beautician slapped her hands away and air suddenly hit the rawness of her skin.

  “I haven’t finished with you yet,” the woman said.

  “Oh, I think you’re done.” Rachel tried to get off the table but was pushed her back down and had more hot wax on her bikini area before she could protest again.

  “Ouch––shit, it’s getting worse. And that stuff is really scalding hot,” Rachel agonized as the girl ripped away even more hair.

  Her mother chose that moment to step into the room.

  “I can hear you squealing and complaining all the way down the hall.”

  “This is one of the most painful things I’ve ever gone through.”

  “You won’t say that after you’ve had a baby,” said her mother.

  “Am I done here?” asked Rachel, attempting to get up again.

  “Just two more sections,” said the beautician.

  This time around, Rachel braced herself by gripping the sheet she was lying on. When she looked up most of what was left of her pubic hair clung to the white muslin strip in the beautician’s hand.

  “I still think you should get a Brazilian. Men like the bare look. Makes you more accessible for their fingers to do the walking. And they can see exactly where to head.”

  Rachel closed her eyes. She loved her mother, but as a well-known sex therapist, who had her own radio show, she didn’t hold anything back when it came to love, sex, orgasms, sex toys, you name it. She never seemed to mind talking about those topics in pub
lic or with complete strangers. Rachel, however, did.

  She slumped back on the table and gave in to the inevitable. When it came to love, her mother always had the last say. Just how did her mother always seem to win? First she’d signed Rachel up with a matchmaking service to celebrate her turning the big 3-0. Next, she’d booked her into full services at the spa, bikini wax included, so she looked perfect for the man in question.

  “Ouch,” said Rachel as the girl pulled the hair closest to her thigh.

  “All done,” said the girl, picking up the bowl of wax.

  What a relief.

  Rachel sat up and swung her legs around, placing her feet on the floor. Next up was her manicure and pedicure. At least no pain was involved. Well, hopefully she wouldn’t endure more torture.

  “I think you should get your eyebrows plucked too while you’re here,” said her mother.

  “No, absolutely not. I can do that myself,” said Rachel.

  “Isn’t this exciting? Soon you’ll be heading to the hotel to meet this mystery man.”

  “I still don’t think I can go through with this,” said Rachel.

  She stood and wrapped the white toweling robe tightly around her.

  “Nonsense, it’s my birthday gift to you. And you see if I’m not right about this being a big confidence booster for you. Not all men are like Jon. And I have a feeling this one will want to see you again after your evening together.”

  Jon…she didn’t want to think about him. She thought he’d been different. Rachel had pegged him as empathetic and an all-around nice guy, but he’d left her stranded in that hotel room, and––

  She didn’t want to relieve the awful moment: the look of horror on his face when he’d started to undress her. And she certainly didn’t want to think about dating again, because obviously she wasn’t supposed to ever find Mr. Right.