Once Upon a Matchmaker. Marie Ferrarella
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husband hadn’t been there with Kate yesterday at the restaurant. There were all sorts of reasons why this Micah could have been there without his wife.
Wife. The word still hurt after all this time. Rather than say he was no longer married, or that his wife had died, he told the attorney, “It’s just me and the boys. And Aunt Sheila,” he added.
“That would be the striking brunette who was at your table,” Tracy surmised.
Micah laughed to himself. Hearing herself described that way would certainly be good for Aunt Sheila’s ego, he thought.
“I’ll be sure to tell her that when I see her. It’s bound to brighten her day,” he told the woman on the other end of the line.
Tracy caught herself listening to his soft chuckle. It was a nice sound. Hearing it seemed to generate a feeling of well-being within her.
You’re just being punchy, Tracy. It’s been a long day and you put in more than your share of hours. Maybe you should just go home.
But she couldn’t just go home, not after telling Muldare that she was coming over. He’d think he was dealing with a dizzy blonde. As a natural blonde, she had fought against the image all of her life.
“I’ll be there in less than half an hour,” she repeated and then hung up.
Tired or not, her mouth curved in just a hint of a smile as she walked out the door.
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