LITMIR.BIZ

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legendary matchmaking grandma.

      “That couldn’t have been an easy hook up back in those days,” Veronica concluded.

      “Yeah. It’s been what—almost sixty years?” Melanie calculated in her head. “She was the best. Of course, I’m sure Grandma Harte never thought that she would be launching a business.”

      “Business? You mean a family industry, don’t you?” Jessica said. “Considering that we’re the third-and fourth-generation millionaire matchmakers.”

      Melanie conceded the point. The first Melanie Harte, a beautiful and unconventional woman of her time, played Cupid for the rich and lonely long before it was considered cool…and certainly before anyone realized it was a lucrative endeavor. Plus, she did it all without today’s modern technology and pricey Manhattan PR firms, Internet ads or an over-the-top reality show. Melanie Harte’s success came simply by word of mouth. Not to mention she held an astonishing marriage rate of 97 percent.

      The current Melanie Harte was hot on her trail with 95 percent.

      “Let’s have the meeting outside,” Melanie said, gathering up her folders and notepad. “It’s a beautiful morning.”

      “Sounds good,” her nieces agreed.

      The women moved through the immaculate and extravagant office to access the mansion’s wrap-around porch through the French doors. The salty air put an instant smile on Melanie’s face. She loved being out here, drinking in the picture-perfect post card view of pristine waters and sailboats moored in the harbor.

      The generations-owned, three-storied mansion sat on two acres high on the harbor’s bluff. It had been photographed and serialized in numerous magazines and often hailed as an architectural and landscaping marvel with eye-popping gables, fifteen-foot ceilings, sunlit rooms, a conservatory, dock and boat slips, manicured lawns and a path leading to the beach and dock.

      Quite simply, it was a dream house.

      Once they were settled into the patio chairs, Melanie took another glance at her watch. “It’s past nine o’clock. Where’s Vincent?”

      “Here I am,” Vincent announced, stepping out on the porch, coffee in hand. “Sorry I’m a little late. My wife was looking particularly sexy this morning so…well, you know how it is.” He hit them with a wink and a cheesy grin.

      “TMI.” Veronica rolled her eyes and then shivered as if the thought of her brother having sex gave her the heebie jeebies.

      “Amen,” Melanie and Jessica said.

      Unfazed, Vincent chuckled his way over to one of the vacant whitewashed wicker chairs and plopped down. “So what have I missed?” Even though his official title was office manager, Vincent dabbled into other areas of the business’s operations. He kept the company’s books in tip-top shape and he was even known to make a couple of love matches himself—probably just to prove that he had the touch, too.

      Young Jessica acted as the company’s concierge and Veronica showed a real knack for the business as an expert profiler. Melanie suspected that it was just a matter of time before Jessica started hounding her for the title of vice president—if such a title existed.

      “All right. Let’s get started,” Melanie said, taking another sip of her coffee and then setting it aside.

      “Melanie wheeled in a big one,” Jessica in formed Vincent.

      “Oh?” Vincent’s brows jumped. “Anyone I might know?”

      “Actually, yes,” Melanie informed him with a cocky smile. “Jaxon Landon.”

      Vincent whistled low. “You’re kidding me.” He glanced toward Veronica and Jessica as if suspecting they were all playing a joke on him. “Midas Touch Jaxon is looking to settle down?”

      “Apparently.” Melanie shook her head, hardly believing the news herself. “Unfortunately, Jaxon’s grandparents aren’t too thrilled about his choice.”

      On cue her small staff blinked at her in confusion.

      Melanie opened the folder on her lap and pulled out a lavender envelope and removed the matching stationery. “Let me read you the letter I received from Jaxon’s grandmother. It should explain everything.” She coughed and cleared her throat.

      “Dear Melanie,

      “I desperately need your help. My grandson has finally lost his mind. Yesterday, he had the nerve to inform the family that he was getting married. MARRIED! Now I know that you’re thinking that this should be exciting news, but let me tell you, dear, that it certainly is NOT! The young hussy that he wants to give our last name to is, of all things, a stripper! A STRIPPER! Trust me—my mother is rolling around, keening in her grave.

      “You have to help me, Melanie. You’re my last hope in setting this boy straight. After all, it was your grandmother who was responsible for helping me find the love of my life and I’ve heard through the grapevine that your company, the Platinum Society, is doing a phenomenal job in continuing your family business of professional matchmaking. That is why I’m turning to you now. I know that you can help me. I don’t care how much it costs as long as the result is a nice, beautiful young lady with the proper upbringing and education. Someone who can calm my grandson’s rebellious side. I won’t lie to you. It won’t be easy. Jaxon likes to do things the hard way or no way at all. Simply put, he’s as stubborn as a mule—just like my husband.

      “I sincerely hope that you will accept my solicitation. Again, I must stress that I am a desperate woman.

      “P.S. If you do choose to help me, I must insist that you do so with discretion. Jaxon will absolutely hit the ceiling if he finds out that I’m sticking my nose into his business. But I trust that you’ll keep my secret.

      “With much love, Sylvia Landon.”

      Melanie Harte lifted her large brown eyes and smiled. “So what do you think?”

      Jessica blew out a long steady breath. “Wow.”

      After that, the continuing silence had Melanie wrinkling her button nose. “Is there a problem?”

      Veronica drew a deep breath and brushed small strands of her long black hair from her angular face. Part of being the company’s expert profiler was vetting and screening the varied mix of millionaires who so often solicited their services. Veronica didn’t like third-party matchmaking—hell, none of them did.

      “Well?” Melanie pushed.

      Veronica glanced over at her brother as if mentally asking him to jump in—and he obliged.

      Vincent cleared his throat. “It’s just that the man is already engaged. It doesn’t seem right that his grandmother is asking us to help break up a relationship in order to manipulate him into another one.”

      Melanie inhaled a startled breath. “It’s not manipulating.”

      His brows rose, while his full lips quirked up in amusement. “Oh? And what do you call it?”

      Cornered, Melanie shrugged. “I’d say that we were simply presenting him with a few more options.” She smiled at her own quick thinking.

      “You’re reaching, don’t you think?” Veronica chuckled.

      Instead of answering, Melanie glanced back down at the letter.

      Jessica waded in. “Is it just because of Sylvia Landon’s history with our company? Is that why you want to take this on?”

      Melanie responded with sincere honesty. “Yes. Besides, I already talked to Grandma Melanie about this. She thinks it’s a good idea. Not only did she introduce Sylvia to Carlton, but they are also lifelong friends.”

      “Humph!” Vincent shook his head. “I still don’t like the idea of us breaking up a relationship.”

      “We’re not going to hold a gun to the man’s head.”

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