Perfect Match

by Fern Michaels

  Gracie took a deep breath as she struggled to get her cell phone out of her jacket pocket. She hit the speed dial and, within seconds, was speaking to Henry and asking if it was okay to come in.

  “We’re just wrapping up here. The guy, the one in the chair, hasn’t seen our work yet. We’ve been more or less waiting for you and dragging our feet till you got here. Then there’s the lunch thing. That guy Moose gets in a snit if we aren’t ready to eat when he’s ready to serve us his food, which I have to say is pretty good. You can have lunch with us. Today is Mexican something or other. Where are you, Gracie?”

  “Outside the gates in the driveway trying to screw up my courage to drive through and enter the house. I’m also trying to calm Gizmo down. He doesn’t know what’s going on, and you know how he hates change of any kind. Okay, okay, don’t say another word. I’m coming in. I know the layout, so I’ll just go straight to the office door.”

  Gracie ended the call and stuck the phone back in her pocket. She took a massive breath and let it out in a loud swoosh of sound. She barreled through the open gates and parked at the foot of the steps that led to the big veranda. Her eyebrows shot upward in surprise as she noticed that each step sported a pumpkin. Did the cranky guy named Moose put them there or did Henry? Not that it mattered one way or another.

  Henry opened the door the minute Gracie stepped onto the veranda. He made a big production of tickling Gizmo and pulling a treat out of his pocket. “I hope you’re ready, Gracie. I have to say, it all came out better than expected. Even if you hate it, tell me you love it because you know I can’t take rejection. You can actually walk in, connect all the stuff you ordered, and sit down to work. But not till after we partake of Mr. Moose’s Mexican lunch. Let’s go,” Henry said, leading the way to the newly renovated office.

  Gracie’s hands flew to her mouth in shock and surprise. The first thing she noticed was the dotted Swiss curtains. She swooned. “Beautiful! It almost looks like our office in Beth’s house, except for the curtains. Oh, Henry, you did a super job. I can see my reflection in the floor. How many coats of varnish or whatever you used are on here?”

  “None. The wood comes like that. Steve and Wayne laid it all down last night. We just cleaned it up this morning. We had a little trouble with the pump on the fish tank, but I got it to work. Keep your eye on it, and if it stops working, call me. Everything is under warranty. The phone company was here at seven this morning and hooked everything up. Everything is operational.

  “Terry hung all the pictures late last night. Your rogue’s gallery, as she called it. I have to say, it makes the room. Your first successes. Good memories. We were able to recess the big-screen TV by taking out the top half of the closet. The built-ins are great, so the room looks a lot bigger than it actually is. Wayne brought the last of the greenery in about an hour ago. Make sure you water it. He left instructions on the desk. The only thing you might have a problem with is the area for the guy in the chair. As you can see, I carved out a nook for him next to the fireplace. His chair will fit there nicely and give him swing-around room. You didn’t say, but I figured you did not want the same desk arrangement you have at Beth’s house, where you and Beth sat facing each other. I did take that liberty.”

  Gracie sighed with relief. “Thank God you did!”

  “Like I said, all you have to do is hook up your equipment and hit the gas starter on the fireplace, and you are all set. So, you like it, Gracie?”

  “Oh, Henry, I love it. I can’t tell you how I love those curtains. I just love dotted Swiss, and I know they don’t use curtains anymore, but these windows just begged for them. Did you take pictures? If you didn’t, you need to do that now and send them all on to Beth. She can’t wait to see what you did.”

  While Henry walked around taking pictures, with Gizmo on his trail, Gracie walked around touching this and that, poking at one thing or another, and nodding her approval. She bent down, pressed the gas starter, and blinked when flames shot upward. Ambience. It was all about the ambience. She was confident she could make it all work. As long as the guy in the chair didn’t throw stumbling blocks in her way.

  A knock sounded at the door. Henry stopped what he was doing and waved a hand at Gracie, which meant “do not open the door.” She didn’t. When he was satisfied with the pictures he’d taken and sent them off to Beth, he gave Wayne the signal to open the door and wheel in the food cart, piled high with food.

  “We’re kind of informal,” Henry said, filling his plate and sitting down on the hearth. Gracie joined him. Gizmo walked from one person to the next for samples.

  “This is good,” Gracie said, smacking her lips. She decided she shouldn’t eat too much when she remembered the chicken soup she’d cooked the previous day, which was tonight’s dinner.

  “What do you think the guy is going to say?” Henry asked anxiously.

  “Who knows? Not anything very flattering, that’s for sure. He’ll probably say it’s a girly-girl thing, with the curtains. Since I’m the one who will be locked up here working eight to ten hours a day, it’s me that counts. I don’t think he’s much into light and airy—more dark and dismal and dungeonlike. According to Beth, the guy is in a dark place in his head. When all is said and done at the end of the day, it is what it is. If this doesn’t work, I just go back to the house and pick up where I left off. I’m simply following Beth’s plan. He’ll be the loser in the end, and Beth will have to learn to live with it all.”

  Henry got up and carried his plate over to the serving cart. He dusted his hands dramatically and said, “Our work here is done. So, Gracie, if you’re satisfied, we’ll be on our way as soon as I notify the master of the house that it’s time to pay up and sign off on the work. Actually, what that means is I call Mr. Moose and tell him he can come for the cart and have him bring his boss in for the final inspection.”

  Gracie eyed Henry, and the way he was tapping his foot. He’s nervous, she thought. The truth was, she was just as nervous but didn’t want to admit it.

  “Okay, guys, you all got your gear packed up?” Everyone nodded. “I’ll meet you outside in a few minutes. Warm up the van. I heard it’s only thirty-six degrees out there today.” Henry placed his call to Moose, then wheeled the serving cart out to the hallway. He looked at Gracie and took a deep breath.

  Gracie, Henry, and Gizmo stood to the side of the closed doorway. They heard the sound of the motorized wheelchair before they saw it. The hair on the back of Gizmo’s neck went straight up, and his ears went flat against his head. “Damn, I forgot. Oh, crap,” Gracie cried, as the shepherd started to growl and whine at the same time.

  “What? What’s wrong with him?” Henry asked anxiously, sweat beading on his forehead. He swiped at it with his arm.

  “Gizmo knows what a wheelchair is. He’s a therapy dog. I take him every Sunday to the VA hospital—you know that, Henry. The guys love him, and he loves them. The problem is he isn’t wearing his dog tags and body armor. This is outside his routine, and he’s confused. He’s not sure what’s going on. It’s the chair that is confusing him.”

  Gracie tried to put herself between Gizmo and Jake Masters, who was staring, mesmerized, at the huge shepherd. “Listen to me carefully, Mr. Masters. Please. Gizmo is a therapy dog. He thinks you’re a wounded vet. He’s confused because he isn’t wearing his body armor and his dog tags. So, please, just salute him and call him Sergeant Gizmo. He’ll do the same, and everything should be okay. Please, Mr. Masters, just do that.”

  Jake looked confused, his eyes blinking rapidly. He’d never seen such a damn big dog up close. He did as he was told and snapped off a smart salute. Gizmo sat up on his haunches, brought his paw up to his eye, and snapped off a salute that was just as crisp and smart as Jake’s. Gracie let loose with a long sigh.

  “Gizmo is a soldier, Mr. Masters. He has medals and commendations out the yin yang. He’s the only dog in the whole world to receive the Congressional Medal of Honor. The whole world! His handler was ki
lled in Afghanistan. He was a friend of mine; his name was Alex Samson. The military gave the dog to me when he returned Stateside. He has some issues, like loud noises, but otherwise, he’s fine. He is an asset to the VA program where he does his therapy work every Sunday. Right now, he’s not sure what’s going on here. It’s up to you how you make friends with him. Like I said, it’s the chair.”

  “Could you guys . . . um . . . do all this later? My people are waiting for me outside. I’d like you to inspect the room, Mr. Masters, so I can be paid.” Henry swung the door open wide enough to accommodate the wheelchair Jake Masters was sitting in.

  Gracie kept one eye on Masters and the other on Gizmo, who was trotting alongside the wheelchair. He knew the drill.

  If she hadn’t been looking so closely, Gracie would have missed the tears she saw building up in Jake’s eyes. He turned to Gracie, and said, “My sister’s bedroom, when we were growing up, had windows and curtains like this.” He let his gaze rake the room and nodded. “Definitely a big difference. The floor is nice. The chair will move more easily. You did a good job.” He turned to Moose, and said, “Pay Mr. Neunsinger.”

  Jake’s attention immediately returned to the dog standing next to him. They eyeballed each other, then Jake laughed. Gizmo barked.

  “Sergeant Gizmo, huh?” Giz barked again. “I’m Jake. He held out his hand, and Giz lifted one big paw and slapped it down dead center and barked again.

  Gracie didn’t realize how tense she was until she saw the handshake. Everyone was happy. She started to mutter to herself as she set about hooking up the computers and fax machines. She stopped once to give Henry a big hug. He said he’d call her for dinner one day next week. She watched Jake and Gizmo out of the corner of her eye as the shepherd tried to push the chair closer to the windows. Jake got the drift of what he was trying to do. Giz wanted him to see the world outside the confines of a room. She grinned to herself. Maybe in the end, Gizmo would be the one that would save Gracie’s brother. It looked to her like they were bonding. She took that moment to stare up at Moose, who looked happier than a pig in a mudslide. Well, well, what have we here? Whatever it was she was sure she’d figure it out before long.

  The moment everything was hooked up and the computers booted up, Gracie whistled sharply, and Giz flew across the room. Jake looked at her questioningly. “Was that whistle for the dog or me? All you have to do is call me by name.”

  “Very well, Mr. Masters, it’s time for us to sit down and for you to tell me how much you know about your sister’s business so we can divide the work evenly. You really need to understand how this business operates—and make no mistake, this is a thriving business. Once I have a grasp of your understanding, we can progress from there. Your workstation is by the fireplace. As you must have noticed, I hooked up your computer, your fax, and your phone. Click on the home page, and you’re all set. So, fill me in here, Mr. Masters.”

  Jake bit down and started to chew on his lower lip. “Well, um, I really . . . the thing is . . . I haven’t had . . . think about it, my sister just . . .”

  “I think what you’re trying to say is you don’t know any more than you knew five weeks ago when your sister turned this business over to you,” Gracie said, ice dripping from her words. Gizmo reared up. He’d never heard that tone of voice from Gracie before.

  “Listen . . . I . . .”

  “No!” The one word exploded from Gracie’s mouth like a gunshot. “You listen to me. Your sister hired me to oversee this business. She assured me that you would be cooperative. I told you on day one that I have no intention of losing this job because you are a lazy laggard, a king-sized pain in the ass, full of daily pity parties and full of yourself because you are a whiny puke, and because jobs that pay like this one do not come by very often. I work hard, but I’m not going to do your job, too. I have a life. It’s obvious to me you do not have one with the exception of what your sister calls your pity parties. If you screw me over on this, I will drag your sorry ass through every court in the land. What part of I need this job don’t you get?” Gracie snarled as she slammed a folder down on the desk.

  Gizmo was on his feet in a nanosecond. He didn’t like any of this. He growled deep in his throat as his big head turned first to Gracie, then to Jake.

  “Think quick, Mr. Masters, before Sergeant Gizmo takes matters into his own hands. I’d be real quick if I were you.”

  “Look, I didn’t sign up for this. I thought my sister was . . . I don’t know . . . trying to get me to do something I didn’t want to do. And another thing, I do not believe my sister said all those . . . those things about me.”

  “Oh, she said them all right. She also said I shouldn’t trust you because you say one thing and do another. That’s where she got the ‘lazy laggard’ from. I think. Let’s be clear right now. As of this minute, you know absolutely nothing about Perfect Match, is that right? Oh, one last thing. Your sister also told me not to believe anything you tell me because you lie.”

  Jake started to sputter. Who the hell was this woman standing in his house talking trash to him? He was careful to keep one eye on the dog and the other one on the angry, snarling woman giving him what for. “So I didn’t read anything, okay? I’m not in the matchmaking business. I told my sister that, but she refused to listen to me. I do not lie. I do-not-want-to-be-in-the-matchmaking-business. I told my sister that over and over, but she refused to listen to me. I don’t have time for this. I went out on a limb and allowed you in here. I allowed you to tear up this room, which was perfectly good to start with, but I still okayed it. It was my understanding you were running my sister’s company and doing it out of my house. This,” he said, waving his arms over his head, “does not work for me.”

  “Well, it’s a little late for that, Mr. Masters. I’m here, ready to go to work, and I am going to need your help. I don’t have time to play games with you. I work. I work because I want to fund my 401 (k), so I can have a secure old age and not have to depend on someone like you to take care of me. I have a work ethic. Obviously, you do not. So this is what I’m going to do because it’s obvious I am in charge. You are going to sit there at your workstation and read everything your sister dropped off for you. It tells about all the inner workings of the company. You will sit there until I say otherwise.”

  “What? Lady, where do you get off telling me what to do in my own house? Screw you and the horse you rode in on,” Jake shouted.

  Gracie laughed. An ugly sound to Jake’s ears.

  “Giz, hold and stay.”

  Gizmo sailed across the room and pushed the wheelchair to the workstation. Two mighty shoves, and Jake Masters was facing the computer on the built-in desk. Gracie walked over and plopped down three file folders, duplicates of what Beth had dropped off on her last visit to her brother. “When you finish these, just raise your hand, and I’ll quiz you.”

  “Now just a damn minute. You can’t tell me what to do in my own house. “Moose!” he bellowed at the top of his lungs. When nothing happened, Jake shouted again. He stopped in midbellow when Gizmo smacked him on the arm with his paw.

  “There’s something you need to know, so there is no mistake on your part, Mr. Masters. If I say the word e-n-e-m-y,” Gracie said, spelling the word, “Giz will topple you out of that chair and put his paw on your throat. He can hold that position for hours. Then if I add a second word and say e-n-e-m-y c-o-m-b-a-t-a-n-t, he will kill you. You make the decision if you want it the easy way or the hard way. It goes without saying that there is a release word that I will not share with you for obvious reasons. Just to keep the record straight, Giz has had seventeen release incidents. You might want to keep that in mind.” Good God, did she just say and do all of this? Oh, Beth, the things I do for you.

  Jake thought about it. He’d never seen a more determined, angrier woman in his life. As for the dog . . . well, that was a no-brainer. “Ha! There’s a phone here, right on this desk. I’ll just hit nine-one-one.”

  “Go for
it!” Gracie snarled. “Giz, no movements, no phone calls.” She almost laughed when Giz’s big paw shot out and knocked the phone onto the floor. He replaced the receiver in the cradle and made sure it was out of reach of the man in the chair.

  Jake cursed loud and long. Who the hell did this crazy woman think she was? He shouted for Moose again.

  Gracie’s eyes narrowed when she heard a soft knock on the office door. “Come in,” she said sweetly. Moose poked his head in the doorway but didn’t say anything.

  “About time. Will you please call the police and get this wild woman and her dog the hell out of here,” Jake bellowed.

  “Why would I do a stupid thing like that, Jake?” Moose asked.

  “Why? Why? Because I told you to, that’s why. I am your boss, in case you forgot that little fact,” Jake continued loudly. “Are you blind? This woman and that damn dog are holding me prisoner. That’s considered kidnapping here in South Carolina. Home invasion or something like that. Get me out of here! That’s an order, Moose!”

  “Oh well, if that’s the case, then I quit. If the police come, it will hit the news. You keep saying you don’t want anyone to know where you are, and on top of that, they’ll find out you’re involved in a matchmaking service. Get it through your head, Jake, you can’t have it both ways. In the end, who cares? I quit! What do you want me to tell Calvin?”

  Gracie jumped into the fray before Jake could say anything. “Tell Calvin, whoever Calvin is, that Mr. Masters is unavailable until I say otherwise. That might be tomorrow, it might be next week. It all depends on how cooperative Mr. Masters is and how much of a quick study he is.”

  “Okay, no problem,” Moose said happily. “Before I pack my bags, would you like me to make you some coffee?”

  “That would be so lovely, Mr. Moose. Hazelnut, if you have it.”

  “I do. What can I get Sergeant Gizmo?”

  “Well, right now, Sergeant Gizmo is on duty. But a couple of carrot sticks would be lovely for when he takes a break.”