Once Upon a Matchmaker. Marie Ferrarella

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her everything.

      Granted it was a summarized version, and he’d left out a few details because she was outside the realm of those who had a need to know, but he’d relayed the general gist of it.

      She’d taken it all in quietly, making no comment while he talked. But he could tell that she was upset.

      “Besides,” he pointed out, “it’s Sunday. There’s not much I can do about this until tomorrow.” Everything had blown up on him late Friday afternoon. He’d spent Saturday trying to come to terms with the unexpected, jarring turn his life had taken.

      “Oh, yes, there is,” Sheila informed him in no uncertain terms. She went directly to the kitchen and the phone on the wall.

      To his knowledge, no good law firm did business on a Sunday. “Who are you going to call?” he asked sarcastically. “Lawyers R Us?”

      Granted he wasn’t an expert, but in his opinion, any attorney who was in his office or on call on a Sunday was either desperate, ridiculously expensive or not any good. None of which were qualities he was seeking in the person he needed to represent him. He needed someone good who charged a reasonable fee, one that he had a fighting chance of paying off before the turn of the next century.

      Sheila stopped just short of dialing, looking at her nephew over her shoulder. “Remember that woman who waved at me in the restaurant?”

      He remembered. Remembered, too, the tall, striking blonde he’d made eye contact with. It had been an odd feeling, a little like déjà vu, as if he’d been in exactly the very same spot before.

      But of course he hadn’t. He blamed it on his overwrought nerves.

      Shaking off the feeling, he got back to his aunt’s question. There seemed to be only one reason why she would refer to the other woman.

      “She’s a lawyer?” he guessed. But the moment he said it, he knew that didn’t make any sense. “I thought you said she sold you the condo.”

      He didn’t want to hurt his aunt’s feelings, especially not on a day that celebrated mothers. He was ever mindful of the fact that she had taken him in when she didn’t have to. No law would have made her open her home—not to mention her heart—to an orphaned relative. She’d done that out of the goodness of her heart and he loved her for it.

      Still, this was his life—and quite possibly his freedom—they were talking about.

      “Usually anyone who wears two hats doesn’t wear either one well,” he told her diplomatically.

      The boys were sitting on the floor watching a cartoon video his father kept on hand just for occasions like this, when Gary looked up, his attention captured by the phrase his father had used.

      He frowned thoughtfully. “She wasn’t wearing any hats, Daddy. Don’t you remember?”

      “My mistake,” Micah said.

      It was easier saying that than getting involved in an explanation that cited the sentence as an old expression. Since Friday, when his life had suddenly been upended, it was all he could do just to try to hold himself together and not think of the possible consequences if things went awry.

      He couldn’t even afford to let his mind go there. He had sons to provide for and an existing pile of medical bills—both for Ella and for Greg—that he still had to pay off. That meant keeping a clear head and being prepared at all times. Prepared to defend himself, prepared to answer charges—and somehow get to the bottom of all this to find out how he’d become implicated in these criminal allegations to begin with.

      All he knew was that he was innocent. The tough part was getting everyone else to believe him. In the meantime, he had to hang on to his job while getting himself emotionally ready to face the kind of charges that could very well be leveled against him.

      “Maizie’s not a lawyer,” Sheila told him. “But I need her to get in contact with one of the other women at the table—Theresa Manetti.”

      “She’s the lawyer?” Micah asked.

      Sheila sighed. It would have been simpler just to say that Maizie had arranged for a beautiful, unattached woman to be at their table just so that she could see him and he her—and that woman just happened to be a damn good lawyer. At that point, no matter how good she actually was, Micah would definitely not avail himself of her services. So she went the long way around, just to eventually get to where she needed to be.

      “No, she runs a catering business.” Then, seeing his confused expression, she quickly added, “but her son and daughter are both lawyers.”

      “There are lots of different kinds of lawyers, Aunt Sheila,” he pointed out tactfully. “What I’m going to need is a criminal defense lawyer—”

      Gary, who was openly eavesdropping, appeared horrified. “Daddy?” he cried uncertainly. “Are they gonna put you in jail?” His eyes were suddenly huge, watery saucers as he contemplated his own words.

      “No!” Greg cried, not waiting for his father to answer. The small boy jumped to his feet and immediately threw his small arms around the first part of his father he came in contact with: his elbow.

      Micah sighed. He’d always tried to protect his sons, doing his best to keep them away from topics that he considered too adult, despite the fact that both boys seemed, at times, to possess old souls. He made sure that the parental block was in place on a host of programs and channels. Yet, the world obviously had a way of intruding and circumventing all his best efforts.

      “Nobody’s putting anyone in jail,” Micah quickly assured both boys. “I just want to ask a lawyer some questions, that’s all.” Gently extricating his arm from Greg’s surprisingly strong grip, he put that arm around the boy and his other one around Gary. “There’s nothing to worry about.”

      Sheila could almost believe him—if she didn’t know him as well as she did. The only time Micah lied was to spare someone else’s feelings. In this case, he was trying to make all three of them believe that everything was all right.

      Except that it wasn’t, she thought.

      She called Maizie’s number. Counting off the number of rings, she heard the receiver being picked up on the fourth. Sheila began talking immediately. In short order, she told Maizie that what had begun innocently enough as an effort to get her nephew back to the dating scene had just taken on far more serious ramifications.

      On the other end of the line, Maizie listened.

      Several moments later when Sheila paused, Maizie jumped in. “I’ll talk to Kate directly,” she promised. She’d already made the decision to bypass Theresa for now. Her friend could be filled in on this newest development later. They no longer had the luxury of allowing things to progress naturally and gradually. Sheila’s nephew needed legal aid now, which meant that he had more of a professional need for Tracy than a personal one.

      She got right on it.

      Kate was a little confused as to why Maizie was calling her, but she listened to the woman patiently and tried to answer her questions to Maizie’s satisfaction.

      “Yes,” Kate told her mother’s best friend. “Tracy is very good. She’s extremely

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