The Perfect Christmas: The Perfect Christmas / Can This Be Christmas?. Debbie Macomber

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The Perfect Christmas: The Perfect Christmas / Can This Be Christmas? - Debbie Macomber

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mind?”

      “I do.” This was said in a clipped, businesslike way.

      She waited, but he wasn’t any more forthcoming than that.

      “Before I introduce you, there are a few matters we need to attend to.”

      “Fine.” Her heart felt as if it had moved into her throat.

      “My fee is thirty thousand dollars.”

      “Yes, I know… That’s a lot of money.”

      Simon glanced up. “I thought you were aware of my fee. If you can’t afford me, then I suggest you leave now and save us both a lot of time and trouble.”

      The money was safely tucked in Cassie’s savings account. “I put it aside for a wedding, but obviously there won’t be one without a groom. I’m willing to make the investment.”

      “Good. Then I’ll introduce you to John.”

      “His name is John?” John was a solid name, implying that he was a solid man; she liked him already.

      “Before I introduce you—”

      “There’s a money-back guarantee, right?”

      “I’ll explain that in a moment.”

      “Okay, sorry, I didn’t mean to interrupt.” She wanted to capture every single detail of this meeting so she could repeat it all to Angie.

      “I have three tasks I want you to complete first.”

      “Excuse me?” She wondered if she’d misheard him. Cassie was waiting to hear about her perfect mate, and he was talking about tasks? What was this, homework?

      “These are qualifying tasks,” he was saying. “I need to be sure you’re the woman for John.”

      “But…no one said anything about needing to qualify.”

      He ignored her outburst. “Once you’ve fulfilled these three simple tasks, I will introduce you to John. The choice is easy—do what I ask and meet the man of your dreams or keep your money and walk away now.” He sat back in his chair and clasped his hands, clearly regarding this as a take-it-or-leave-it proposition.

      Cassie’s head reeled. “Do you ask this of all your clients?” she cried, almost positive he didn’t. Her nerves were quickly fraying.

      “How often do I need to tell you? I’m not in the habit of answering questions.” He paused and looked her straight in the eye. “However, I’ll admit that I don’t ask this of every client. Only certain ones.”

      “What made me so lucky?”

      “Your motives. You expect to find the perfect husband, the perfect marriage and the perfect Christmas, correct?”

      She remembered having said as much. She nodded.

      “You’re asking for the impossible.”

      “But…isn’t that what you promised?”

      “No. If you’ll examine my Web site, you’ll see that I promise the right mate. The most suitable spouse. But that’s just the beginning. A happy marriage is about much more than the appearance of perfection.”

      Others had found true love. Jill and Tom had, so why couldn’t she? “I can dream, can’t I?” she muttered.

      “Yes, you can dream as long as your dreams are rooted in reality.”

      “And you consider it your duty to drag me out of my happy fantasy and into the real world,” she said sarcastically.

      “What I consider my duty is to match you up with someone who’ll spend the rest of his life thinking he’s the most fortunate man alive to be with you.”

      “Oh.” She swallowed tightly.

      “Do you accept the three tasks or not?”

      She hesitated. She needed more information before she agreed to anything. “What are they?”

      “I’m not asking you to swim in shark-infested waters, if that’s what you’re worried about. It’s nothing life-threatening.”

      “I won’t have to eat anything disgusting, will I?”

      He cringed. “Good grief, no. As I said, these are simple, ordinary tasks. It sounds as if you’ve been watching too much reality television.”

      “Actually, I don’t. My friend Angie watches that stuff and then tells me about it the next day.”

      He ignored her explanation and reached for a slip of paper on his desk. “Here’s your first task. I need you to volunteer for a four-hour shift as a bell ringer in front of the Southcenter Mall near Kent. Do you know it?”

      “I know every mall within a two-hundred-mile radius of Seattle.”

      “I have no doubt of that.”

      Really, how difficult could a four-hour shift be? “Sure, that won’t be a problem.”

      “It’s the weekend after Thanksgiving.”

      “Great. The mall will be hopping.”

      “There’s a quota the charity expects you to make, but I don’t think you’ll have any trouble with that.”

      “Okay. What’s the second task?” The first one didn’t seem too hard; the next one was probably along similar lines.

      “You said on the application form that you’re interested in a man who wants children.”

      “I am.”

      “Good. I’m going to give you the opportunity to spend an entire afternoon with the little darlings. You’ll be one of Santa’s elves for a picture-taking session at the Tacoma Mall.”

      “An elf?”

      “There’s a costume. I apologize, but it’s one of the requirements.”

      “Okay, fine, I can be an elf.” She didn’t like the idea of wearing some silly outfit with tights and pointed shoes but she could cope. “And the final task?”

      He reached for another slip of paper. “I also saw on your application that you enjoy cooking.”

      “I do.” And she was pretty good at it if she did say so herself.

      “Excellent. For your third task, I want you to cook Christmas dinner. Turkey, stuffing, mashed potatoes with gravy, salad, vegetables…that sort of thing. Oh, and two different kinds of homemade pie.”

      “And who’s going to be eating this huge meal?”

      “Your neighbors.”

      “Ah.” She raised her index finger

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