"I don't like being told what to do," Ryan answered irritably.

"Funny thing-neither does my cousin Joe's client. But unless she gets married by the time she's thirty-five she loses everything she's worked for, because her grandfather thought a woman had to be married to be happy and safe," Ray said candidly. "You see? Already you've got similarities."

"She's thirty-five?"

"She's thirty-three."

"Why isn't she married? Fat? Ugly? Warts?"

"She's been engaged three times, and each time it's fallen through," Ray remarked.


"Difficult, huh? A diva."

"No, unlucky. She's smart in business, but not in men. They wanted her money," Ray said. It was the easiest explanation to offer right now.

"Is she pretty?" Ryan asked.

"I wouldn't know. I've never met her. She lives in a small town called Egret Pointe about a hundred miles from the city," Ray said.

"What kind of business?" Ryan wanted to know.

"She has a lingerie shop," was the answer.

"Doesn't sound like big business to me."

Ray chuckled. "It's upmarket, many one-of-a-kind things. She started small; then came the catalog, and now she's opening two new stores-one here in town, and the other in an elegant suburban mall. It's called Lacy Nothings."

"Geez, Frankie buys stuff from that catalog. It's as expensive as hell, and since there's very little of it I don't know why," Ryan said.

Ray laughed. "My cousin-he's her lawyer-says she's a very nice girl. What could it hurt to meet her? She's got no illusions about any arrangement that you two would make. Joe says her house is gorgeous and filled with antiques. It would be a great place to entertain, and she would be a terrific hostess. She'd know how to speak to your fancy-shmancy clients, Ryan. Her grandfather was probably one of your father's clients."

"Has Miss Lingerie Shop got a name?" Ryan asked. The truth was, his interest was piqued. The girl Ray was describing was young enough to be a mother, and he did want kids; and she probably had people running her business for her, so she could be a wife and mother. She had her own money. Her own house. And she needed to get married in order to keep them. Actually it could be a perfect solution to his problems too.


"Her name is Ashley Kimbrough," Ray said.

"Pretty name," Ryan allowed. "So when do you want to set up this meeting?"

Ray smiled. "Let me talk to Joe. You're not due to fly off anywhere soon, are you? I know your schedule is pretty frantic these days."

"I'll make time, and no, I'm not going anywhere at the moment," Ryan said. "Why don't we make our first meeting in Egret Pointe. Miss Lingerie-Ashley-would probably be a bit more comfortable there than here," he suggested.

"Thoughtful," Ray teased him. "Shows your sensitive side."

"Bite me!" Ryan shot back, and then he unfolded himself from the chair. "If that's it, I gotta go. Bill me for the time."

"Bite me!" Ray laughed. "You're going to get a big fat bill from ASK when this is all over, buddy. I may even get the senior partners to start up a new department. Matchmaking for Millionaires." And he laughed harder as he waved Ryan from his office. Then, clicking his intercom button, he said, "Nancy, get me Joe in Egret Pointe." And a minute or two later his assistant signaled him, and he picked up the phone. "Joe, Ray. We're coming shopping. Any one day better for you than another?"

Joe Pietro d'Angelo masked a deep sigh. "Where do you want to meet?" he said.

"Ryan wants to come out to Egret Pointe," Ray answered him. "He thought it might be easier on Ashley. Nice, huh?"

"Yeah, very nice," Joe acknowledged. "We could make it Friday, and you and Rose could stay the weekend with Tiff and me."

"Sure, why not? I can get Ryan back without having to go into town myself," Ray said. "Yeah, Friday. Eleven a.m. okay with you?"


"Hang on, and let me call Ashley," Joe replied. He pulled his cell from his pocket and dialed Lacy Nothings. "Morning, Nina. Would you put Ashley on, please? You still there, Ray?"

"I'm here," his cousin's voice responded.

"Ash, listen, my cousin and his client would like to meet here in our offices on Friday at eleven. That okay with you?"

"So soon? Gee, Joe, this guy must really be desperate," Ashley said.

"No more so than you, honey. Bring a sandwich and eat with Tiff and me in an hour. I'll fill you in, okay? Eleven Friday, then?"

"Why not?" Ashley said. "Best to get it over with. See you in an hour."

Joe flipped the cell shut and turned back to his office phone. "Okay, we're on, buddy. I'll see you Friday." Hanging up the phone, he buzzed his wife in her cubicle and waited for her to come in, and when she did he said, "We've got a first meeting Friday."

Tiffany clapped her hands together. "That's just terrific, Joe." And throwing her arms around his neck she gave him a quick kiss. "Now," she said, stepping back, "tell me all about the guy. Is he tall, dark, and handsome? Does he have family? What's his name? Give! I want to know everything."

"Ashley is coming over to have lunch with us," Joe said. "I'll tell you both everything I know then, and not before," he told her.

Tiffany shrugged her shoulders. "I'm not happy," she said glowering.

He grinned. "Go get a chocolate bar," he teased her.

"I'm going to need a quarter-pound box of Godiva to bring my mood back up," she grumbled. "Or maybe a bag of truffles." Tiffany considered. But she waited because there was no other choice until noon, when Ashley arrived carrying a carton of Columbo Light Key Lime Pie yogurt, and a little silver spoon. "You keep a silver spoon in your desk?" Tiffany said, impressed. "Now that is cool."

They were in the little conference room of the firm. It had big windows that overlooked Main Street with its big trees lining it. Rick had come in to listen and, spreading their lunches on the big table, which was an elegant old door covered with a glass top, they all now turned to Joe, who was thoroughly enjoying a meatball hero from the local pizza place.

"Nobody makes sauce like Angelo," he said, licking his lips.

Ashley dipped her spoon into the pale green yogurt.

"Yeah," Rick agreed. "He got the recipe from his grandmother in Rome."

Tiffany fished a crouton from her salad and ate it. "Talk," she said.

Joe took another bit of his hero and then, grinning, put it down, looking at Ashley. "His name is Ryan Finbar Mulcahy. He owns an outfit called R8cR-Restorations and Replications, Inc. His father started the business and did nicely. Ryan graduated college and took over the company to build it into a multimillion-dollar establishment. But it was still the old man's company. When he died a couple of years ago the old man left each of his daughters a quarter mil, and the wife the house and a good income. Everything else went to Ryan on the proviso that he be married by the time he was forty. He'll be forty next spring, and he hasn't even come close to getting married," Joe said.

"What's the problem?" Ashley wanted to know.

"The guy is a workaholic," Joe said. "His old man was the craftsman, the artisan. Ryan knows what good is, but his head is more for the business. It was his idea to add the reproductions branch of the business. There's a lot of money out there today, and new money wants to look like old money. But there are only so many antiques to go around. So R &R designs seventeenth- and eighteenth-century repros that look every bit as good as the real thing. The business is booming. And Ryan hasn't had a moment to get a relationship going with any woman. But if he isn't married by forty, he's out, the business is sold, and his sisters get the benefit of the sale."

"What if he doesn't like me?" Ashley asked.

"What if you don't like him?" Joe countered. "Look, Ash, life is at best a crapshoot. You toss the dice and hope you don't hit snake eyes. You've hit snake eyes three times now. I think it past time for you to make craps. Ray is bringing him out tomorrow for an initial meeting. No promises. No obligations. You're just both going to take a look at each other to make certain you're human."

"Let's Google him," Tiffany said.

"Of course!" Ashley agreed. "Now that we know his name and his business name we can look him up."

"In my cubicle," Tiffany replied, standing up from the conference table. "Come on, Ash. Enjoy your lunch, boys!" She hurried out with Ashley following with her yogurt.

"What do you think?" Rick Johnson asked his partner.

"I think we've got a shot," Joe responded, "if they click."

"An arranged marriage. It sounds so cut-and-dried. So loveless," Rick said. "I thought people had to fall in love to get married. What are they going to do about the sex, I wonder?"

"That's one matter they'll have to negotiate themselves," Joe said, grinning. "We can set up the prenups with Ray, but the rest of it is going to be up to them."

"What do you think he's like, this Mulcahy guy? Is he really so busy he can't make time to go courting?" Rick wondered.

"Want to check out what the girls have found?" Joe said as he picked up the second half of his hero.

"And let them know we're as nosy as they are? I think not," Rick said. "I'll wait till I get home to Google him. Carla's filling in tonight at the hospital for one of the night nurses. She won't be home until around eleven thirty. God, I hope she likes him. We gotta get Ash settled, and soon. Old Kimbrough will come out of his grave if we let his wealth go to SSEXL."

"Then he shouldn't have been such a smart-ass and added that clause to the will. I told him not to do it," Joe grumbled. "Mulcahy is probably all right. Have you ever seen an ugly Irishman, Rick?"