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A Perfectly Imperfect Match
Marie Ferrarella
Jared Winterset is not in the market for a wife…until he’s thrown together with beautiful violinist Elizabeth.Soon, they are enjoying themselves way too much, but Elizabeth isn’t sure it will last and Jared thinks their relationship is just fun. But they’re about to learn that, in a real love match, both players can win…
“Did you tell your sister about me?”
“About you?” he repeated, a little confused. Did she think that Megan would object to his planning things with her?
“Yes. About me,” she said again. The silence on the other end told her that maybe she needed to elaborate on that before he got the wrong idea.
“Did you tell her that I’ll be playing at your parents’ anniversary party?” The longer the silence on the other end of the phone, the tighter the knot that had suddenly come into being in her stomach became. A knot that had materialized for no apparent reason…
Isn’t there a reason? something whispered in her head. Haven’t you caught him looking at you in a way that made you forget all about the music you were supposed to play and made you think about the music the two of you could produce, given half a chance?
Dear Reader,
Well, the ladies are at it again. Those Matchmaking Mamas just can’t help themselves. Confronted with a sad single, they become determined to turn that single into a duo. It just takes the right person, or in this case, the right man. It’s what they love to do and feel they do best.
So when Maizie’s old friend confides in her that he is concerned about his daughter who, in a moment of weakness, confessed that she felt as if she were relegated to the sidelines of life, Maizie is immediately off and running. A few discreet inquiries later and the ladies believe they have just the man for a perfect match. Now all it takes is moving a bit of heaven, a bit of earth and getting these two people together so that they could wind up making beautiful music together for life.
Wouldn’t it be nice if it were that easy? Still, the heart is ever optimistic—and so am I. Once again, I would like to thank you for taking the time to read this, and from the bottom of my heart I wish you someone to love who loves you back.
All the best,
Marie Ferrarella
About the Author
MARIE FERRARELLA, this USA TODAY bestselling and RITA
Award-winning author has written more than two hundred books for Mills & boon, some under the name Marie Nicole. Her romances are beloved by fans worldwide. Visit her website, www.marieferrarella.com.
A Perfectly
Imperfect
Match
Marie Ferrarella
www.millsandboon.co.uk (http://www.millsandboon.co.uk)
To
Dr Stephen Johnson,
for being
an excellent doctor all these years
and for giving me
a good idea
Prologue
“Well, I’m happy to report that all your lab tests came back totally normal,” Dr. John Stephens said with a smile, closing Maizie Sommers’s folder. He turned the stool he was sitting on so he was facing her directly. “If all my patients were as healthy as you and those two best friends of yours, I’d be forced to retire.”
“Don’t you dare,” Maizie warned the man that she had known for the better part of thirty-five years, first as her family doctor, and then as a friend. “Doctors like you are hard to find in this day and age.”
“You mean old?” He chuckled.
“No, I mean caring. And you’re not old, John,” she insisted, admiring his thick mane of silver hair and that endearing twinkle in his eyes. “As a matter of fact, there are times that you are quite possibly the youngest man I know.”
The doctor could only shake his head and laugh. Maizie had a gift for always saying the right thing at the right time. And he appreciated it, recognizing it for what it was: kindness.
“Then you definitely should get out more, Maizie,” he urged. “That’s my prescription for you—you need to broaden your base.”
“My base is just fine, thank you,” she assured him with a confident smile. “And you’ll be happy to know that it most definitely is broad.”
Seeing that she had managed to keep her trim figure over all these years, he could only interpret her comment one way. “Then your business is going well?” he asked. Glancing at his watch, he saw that he was running ahead of schedule and could allow himself a couple of moments to catch up.
After her husband had died, needing to provide for herself and her young daughter, he knew that Maizie had gone into the real estate business. She had done quite well for herself over the years and now owned her own company.
“Mercifully, yes. People still want to own their own homes, and I’m right there, eager to help them make their dreams come true.” She never liked to focus on herself for more than a minute or so. She was far more interested in the people she was dealing with. Her doctor was included in this wide circle. “How are your children?” she asked in the same pleasant, unassuming tone. And as she asked, she studied his face, waiting for a response.
He moved her file from one side of his desk to another for no reason except that he seemed to need to do something with his hands. “They’re healthy.”
Maizie leaned in a little. “That’s not quite what I asked, John.”
He laughed, shaking his head. The woman was incredible. But then, he’d thought that on more than one occasion. “Sometimes I think you wasted your talent, going into real estate. You would have made one hell of a prosecutor.”
“I don’t like going after people. I like making them happy. And I love matching up houses and people, bringing them together. There is also my other interest,” she reminded him with a subtle smile.
“Ah, yes, matchmaking.” He recalled her telling him about that the last time she’d been in for her yearly checkup. “Are you still into that?”
“Yes,” she said simply, wondering if he was going to ask her something a little less general, something that would address the nature of what had become her full-time hobby of sorts. “And so are Theresa and Cecilia,” she told him, mentioning the women who had been her best friends since the third grade.
All three of them were businesswomen, all three of them were widows and all three of them reveled in matchmaking strictly for its own sake. Bringing two people together who seemed destined for each other was all the payment they really required.
“How’s that going, anyway?”
The question sounded just a tad too innocently phrased. She studied him with interest. Had he finally admitted to himself that he was lonely? That he needed someone in his life? She was ready to help if he had.
“Our matchmaking business is doing very well. We still have that one hundred percent success record.” She decided to stop beating around the bush and just come out with it. “Would you be interested in our services, John?” she asked quietly.
“Not personally,” he protested, surprised at the question. For his part, he thought he was being very subtle about feeling her out on the subject. “At least, not for myself.”
“I understand that, John,” she assured him, silently adding, And if you ever decide to change your mind, I’ll be right here to help you. Out loud she added, “I know you. You’re a great deal like me. One life, one love. When your Annie died, you focused exclusively on your three children and your career.”
He was surprised, with all the people she dealt with, that she would remember that. “You really are a remarkable woman, Maizie Sommers.”
“So I’ve been told,” she replied with a wide smile. And then she got down to business. “Now, which of your children is keeping you up at night?”
He didn’t want to give Maizie the wrong impression. Nor did he want to be disloyal to Elizabeth. To the outside world, his daughter was outgoing, bubbly and very talented. She wasn’t desperately trolling all the singles haunts, looking for a mate. His concern about her was due to something far more subtle.
“It’s not that I’m worried about her. It’s just that…” The doctor let his voice trail off, not knowing how to phrase what he wanted to say.
“You’re worried about her,” Maizie corrected, reading between the lines. “I thought Elizabeth was seeing someone.”
He frowned, recalling his daughter’s one serious relationship. “That’s been over for a while. He was more interested in changing her than cherishing the person she was.”
Maizie smiled, amused. “Spoken like a true doting father.”
He supposed he was that. He loved all his children, but Elizabeth was his oldest and the only girl. She was the proverbial apple of his eye and he wanted to see her happy.
And she didn’t seem to be.
“We had dinner the other evening and she confided that she felt as if life were bypassing her, because she was always supplying the background music for other people’s romances.”
Maizie summarized what was on his mind. “So, in essence, you’d like to find Mr. Perfect for her.”
He surprised her by shaking his head. “No, I fully realize that there’s never going to be a ‘Mr. Perfect,’” he began.
Maizie cut him short. “Is that you being a realist, or you being a dad who feels that no man will ever be good enough for his daughter?”
He paused to consider that. “A little bit of both, I suppose, but mostly the second part,” he confessed.
Maizie laughed. “All right, I’ll see what I can do about finding Mr. Almost-Perfect for your daughter.”
The doctor rose from his stool and walked Maizie out of his office. “I never thought I’d be one of those fathers looking to set their daughter up with someone. I mean, Elizabeth’s talented, and beautiful—a passel of not-so-perfect men should be tripping all over themselves to get to her.”
“Maybe they are.” Maizie saw the look of surprise on the physician’s handsome, patrician face. “Maybe Elizabeth’s standards are exceptionally high. Maybe,” she concluded, “she’s trying to find someone as upstanding, kind and decent as her father.”
That had never occurred to him. “You really think that’s why she’s still single?”
“Most likely not consciously, but, John, you are a hard act to preempt,” Maizie told him, then added with a wink, “But don’t worry, I am going to try my darndest to do just that.”
“I don’t know whether to be relieved, or worried,” he said honestly.
“Just continue being who you are, John,” she soothed gently, then promised, “I’ll get back to you soon.”
With that, she left his office, a cheerful woman with a mission.
Chapter One
Her fingers glided flawlessly over the taut strings of her violin.
Little by little, as she played, Elizabeth Stephens felt the same old longing creeping over her, the desire to be part of the party instead of merely providing the music for that party.
The moment she realized that her mind had drifted, and that she was feeling way too sorry for herself, Elizabeth winced with guilt.
Here she was, not just stitching together a passable living allowing her to make ends meet, but happily making a very decent living.
Oh, she couldn’t go put a down payment on a yacht anytime soon, but she was more than just getting by—while others in her chosen field had either been forced to give up their dreams entirely, or were doing it more as a hobby that they tried to fit in around their day job.
Luckily, her day job also featured playing the violin. She managed to make a good salary by melding a couple or so different varieties of orchestra engagements. One gig involved playing in the pit for a theater group that was currently trying their hand at a revival of Fiddler on the Roof, another entailed being part of a six-piece orchestra that periodically was called in to provide the background music being scored for a romantic-comedy series.
The last gig involved working alongside several musicians on a commercial for an insurance company. It paid double because they not only played the music but were also seen playing. Her brother Eric had teased her about her screen “presence” and had asked her for her autograph.
And all those jobs didn’t include the weddings, anniversaries, graduation ceremonies and various other social engagements that regularly came her way.
Like this one, Elizabeth thought, taking care to keep her smile in place as she and the four other entertainers who had been hired to perform at Barry Edelstein’s Bar Mitzvah began playing yet another song.
It wasn’t the thirteen-year-old who had triggered her thoughts about sitting on the sidelines, playing while everyone else was having a good time. Instead, it was the Bar Mitzvah boy’s older sister, Rachel. The striking brunette seemed to be completely oblivious to her surroundings—and that included the music—as she gazed up into the face of the young man who was holding her to him so tightly.
As she looked on enviously, it appeared to Elizabeth that there didn’t seem to be enough space between the two young people for a breath to sneak in—not even a shallow one. Anyone could see that they were lost in one another’s eyes—and very much in love.
Elizabeth suppressed a sigh. Here was another occasion of her supplying the theme songs for someone else’s life, someone else’s romance. Without realizing it, the smile she’d kept fixed on her face slipped a little and a small frown took its place.
When was it her turn? she wondered in another moment of self-pity. When did she get to be swept up in her own romance?
“Everything okay, Lizzie?” Jack Borman whispered between barely moving lips as he leaned over toward her.
Jack was playing the portable keyboard he brought to all their mutual engagements. It was because of her previous association with Jack, whom she’d met while still in college, that she had gotten this particular gig, as well as a number of other engagements over the past few years.
Networking was all part of the life of a musician. If you managed to make enough acquaintances in this business, you hopefully got to play—and eat—on a fairly regular basis.
Elizabeth disliked being called Lizzie by some people and she knew that Jack was aware of that, but for some reason, calling her by that nickname seemed to amuse him. Since Jack was the source of a decent amount of work lately—and they were friends—she wasn’t about to belabor the point that being referred to as “Lizzie” made her feel as if she were ten years old.
That it was also, coincidentally, the name of one of her neighbor’s cats—a calico cat that was undoubtedly the fattest feline she’d ever seen outside of a documentary on the Discovery Channel—made the name even less desirable to her.
Elizabeth leaned ever so slightly closer to Jack and his keyboard. “I’m just fine,” she murmured, hoping that he’d leave it there.
But when their eyes met, she realized that she should have known better. Jack liked to think of himself as a minor deity, fixing things that had gone wrong in the lives of “his people,” as he referred to the folks he kept on his roster of potential musicians to call whenever the need for a small orchestra came up.
Of all the musicians Jack had amassed to call for the various affairs he was contracted to play, he’d sent the most amount of work her way. It was no secret that he was interested in her for more than the way she handled a bow.
His interest had a definite social aspect to it, but so far, Elizabeth had managed to get out of accepting his various invitations to “unwind” after a performance—or the handful of rehearsals that preceded those performances.
His bushy eyebrows drew together over his hawklike nose as he scrutinized her closely. “You don’t look fine,” he informed her.
“Must be the lighting,” she murmured, doing her best to terminate the conversation.
Served her right for letting her thoughts get the better of her, Elizabeth upbraided herself. She was here to play—and pay her rent—not to wax envious at what it appeared others had that she did not.
For all she knew, what she thought she was witnessing could be strictly an illusion as well. Maybe this couple wouldn’t even be together this time next year.
If that did turn out to be the case, she certainly didn’t envy either of them the breakup that might be looming on the horizon.
