Chapter 1 : Part 2

Miss Match
by Leslie Carroll

(Page 2 of 5)

"Which one of us gets the two points?" The speaker was a sandy-haired man, possibly in his late thirties, maybe early forties. Chiseled jaw with dimpled cleft, and pale green, almost sea-foam-colored eyes. Whoa. If the five dates you guarantee me look like you, I'll get my money's worth, Kathryn thought. He rose from his brown leather swivel chair and extended his hand. Big man, well over six feet - possibly even six feet three. "Hi, I'm Dirk Quartermaine. How're you doing?"

Kathryn paled about three shades.

"Just kidding. The name's Bear Hart. You were a lot of fun in there."

"That was you? You . . . !" She bit her lip to stifle the epithet that wanted to emerge. "That's not very fair!"

"I like to get to know my clients in every situation, so I can get a better handle on whom to match them up with."

"Are you Native American?"

"Only one-sixteenth. Why?"

"Your name is Bear Heart. What was your mother's?"

"Fond of Shopping." When Kathryn didn't wince at his sense of humor, he relaxed a bit deeper into his chair and smiled warmly. "My real name is Walker, which is actually my mother's mother's maiden name. 'Bear' comes from my college days when every woman I went out with eventually came to the realization that I was not marriage material, but a real teddy bear as a boyfriend. Which worked out okay with me, since marriage is an institution to which I never wanted to be committed."

I bet a lot of coeds cried on those big strong shoulders of yours. Kathryn kinda sorta wished she'd been one of them. Just to know what it felt like to bury her head against his . . . better change the subject because he was already giving her erotic fantasies.

"It's okay, Bear. I'm not into animal husbandry."

Walker laughed, a deep throaty sound. He seemed like a man who liked to grab life with both hands.

"Don't worry, I'm not part of the package."

That's a damn shame. "Oh, call me Kitty."

"Kitty Lamb? That's too cute."

"My kids started calling me that a few years ago. They thought it was cruel, but I thought it was funny, so the joke was on them, and it stuck."

"Kids?"

She chewed her lip, and gestured with her chin at the clipboard on his lap. "You read the book; you saw the film, Bear. I teach high school, remember."

"Oh, of course. Sorry." He leaned forward and stretched a long arm toward the coffee mug on the center of his desk, sending it teetering perilously toward a stack of manila envelopes. "Son of a b - ! I'm usually much more on the ball than this. Nice save!" he added, referring to his client's lightning quick reflex.

Kathryn righted the cup and found a napkin on her side of the desk which she used to wipe up the single splotch of light-colored coffee that had made its way onto Bear's file folders.

"Nervous, Mr. Hart?" she asked sweetly. Actually, there was something sort of endearing about his near-miss with the "Go, Big Red!" mug.

"I don't think so. Preoccupied, I guess. Please don't get the impression I'm a klutz. I was actually a helluva running back once upon a time."

Walker was thinking of the damage her luscious curves were doing to that baby blue cashmere V neck she was wearing. He hadn't missed how tight her jeans were when she walked in, either. How she managed to sit on the photographer's stool and swivel around in them without cutting off her circulation, had been something of a miracle.

Mr. Six in the City followed his newest client's eyes, noting that they were almond shaped, sort of like a cat's, and with a bluish cast to them, although she'd listed their color as "hazel" in her profile. He decided it was better to think about something that didn't give him disconcertingly erotic thoughts about her; he could get lost in those eyes. "I was also something of a ski bum in my misspent youth," he said energetically, bounding into safer emotional territory, "before I decided to settle down and get my MBA. But one of the best places to check out the ups and downs of business administration firsthand, especially in February, is, of course, as everyone knows - a ski lodge." He winked at Kathryn and noticed that she was trying unsuccessfully to suppress a smile.

"What happened?" she asked.

"Broke my leg in three places."

"Oops."

"Then I fractured my collarbone."

"Ouch."

"After the concussion, I finally gave up."

"Probably a wise decision."

Walker looked down at Kathryn's application. "Okay, Miss Kitty," he smiled. "You didn't put down your age."

"I was hoping you had a 'don't ask-don't tell' policy here."

"Actually, I was just thinking that you barely look old enough to attend high school, let alone teach it."

"That was a 'nice save' on your part, Bear . . . before you stuck your foot in your mouth entirely, I mean."

Copyright © 2002 by Leslie Carroll.

About the Author

Native New Yorker Leslie Carroll is a professional actress as well as a novelist. She has appeared on stage, in short films, daytime dramas, and commercials, and has done voiceovers and talking books. She is the author of Miss Match. Leslie also writes historical and New York noir detective fiction, and is the author of three stage adaptations of nineteenth century/early twentieth century English novels: Ivanhoe, The Prisoner of Zenda, and The Scarlet Pimpernel.