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A Sweet & Sassy Match
A corporate attorney, Sam made more money than he could spend. Still single, he watched quietly as his associates' marriages crumbled. It seemed there was always another beautiful gold-digger ready to take whatever the first, second or third wife left up for grabs. He knew there were good women out there. The problem was they worked in coffee shops and school lunchrooms, as bus drivers and mechanics, hardly likely to meet a man who could provide them with security, love and guidance.
And so Sugar Babies was born. Sam resigned his position and set up a matchmaking service. While scouting out a new location for a branch office, Sam meets Johanna Maxwell. Jo is beautiful, hard working and everyone's best friend. She could be counted on for house sitting, baby-sitting or pet sitting, or even a last minute loan. The only person Jo didn't take care of was Jo. Sam falls hard, but can he convince her that his business is legitimate? More to the point, can he convince her that when he pulls her over his knee, it's out of love?
Match Me If You Dare
Marcus learned two important lessons in life: trust your gut and never hide your true nature. The first made him a best-selling author, and the second kept him single. Dragging his twin brother Ty to a match-making party was a split-second decision. 'Perfect woman' was an oxymoron and if such a creature existed, he wasn't interested. If nothing else, the party might help get a certain redhead out of his head.
The 'Luck of the Irish' eluded Susan, and she didn't expect that to change. Running into Sam on her bike was an accident, but her life quickly changed once she agreed to let Sugar Babies, Inc. find her a match. The suite, the clothes and room service made her pinch herself several times a day. Just weeks ago, she had considered taking up the world's oldest profession just to survive.
Kelsey stood naked in front of a large mirror, critically taking note of her body. Small breasts, slim hips and short of stature, she could easily pass for a child. The problem was she didn't feel young. She felt old, ancient at times. Somewhere along the way all the joy had been sucked out of her. How long had it been since she slept an entire night without waking up in a panic? The last traces of her black eye had finally faded. Now if she could find a match who didn't scare her half to death, she just might survive!
Matched for Keeps
Susan Shaughnessy was down on her luck, but all that was about to change. She just signed a contract with Sugar Babies, Inc., an exclusive matchmaking company, and for the next year she would be under the watchful eye of one Marcus McCarthy, award-winning author and spanker extraordinaire.
Kelsey Reed was shaking in her shoes as she got into the limo, but at least she had shoes. Thank goodness Ty, Kelsey's match and Marcus's twin brother, wasn't that strict as Marcus. Ty was sweet and he smelled good, a far cry from the last man who'd tried to put his hands on her. As a Veterinarian, Ty was naturally gentle and caring. If he didn't love her, that was okay. At least for the next year she would have a roof over her head and someone to hold her when she was scared. With her generous allowance, her days of sleeping in the back room at Fat Rusty's Diner with a knife under her pillow were over.
The Last Match
When Erica asked John Braden to accompany her to Vegas for a wedding, it seemed like a good idea. John was mature, wealthy and harmless - at least she thought so until he pulled her over his knee. Suddenly the mild-mannered man from Texas didn't seem so uncomplicated. As an administrative assistant for Sugar Babies Inc., she was determined to find John the perfect match, and quickly.
Susan Shaughnessy wasn't really surprised when her engagement to Marcus McCarthy went horribly wrong. A man couldn't have two fiancees, especially if one of them was Susan, so she did what she did best: cut her losses and split, taking her shoes and her grandmother's silver with her.
A Sweet and Sassy Match, Chapter One
It all happened so smoothly, as if by nature and not by design.� They met one Sunday morning at an outdoor caf�.� Jo was reading the newspaper and enjoying a light breakfast.� She noticed him immediately when he chose the table directly across from her. How could she not?� His stature alone was enough to draw attention, but there was something else about him that made her look again, her eyes taking in every detail.� She judged him to be in his mid to late thirties.� Tall and well built, he had brown hair with gold highlights.� If she had to guess, she would say they were natural.� He didn’t seem the kind of man who was the least bit insecure in his appearance.� His voice as he gave the waitress his order was rich and smooth and made the dark chocolate cocoa she was drinking seem weak in comparison. Self-consciously, she turned her eyes back to her paper.
Jo often made up stories in her head about total strangers.� She was detail oriented; she had to be in her profession. Lives often depended on her making sure even the tiniest problem was addressed and dealt with quickly.� There were times, like today, when she felt as if the weight of the world was on her shoulders.� She tried not to take her work home, but she spent most weekends worrying.� Jo didn’t know why she accepted the Director of Senior Services position.� She had been perfectly happy dealing with her own caseload of clients and very good at her job.� As a rule, she hadn’t worried overly about her seniors, knowing everything was in place, as it should be.� Since taking the promotion, she now had many caseworkers under her.� One mistake could mean life or death for an at-risk elderly or disabled client.� Now she seemed to be constantly stressed, trying not to micromanage her employees, but wondering all the same if she would get a call that someone had slipped through the cracks, with disastrous results. It would be her fault, and that was the bottom line.
Her eyes strayed to the man’s hands as he picked up his coffee.�� They were large, with neatly trimmed nails.� The watch on his wrist looked expensive, as did his loafers.� His jeans were faded, probably bought that way as he was obviously well heeled.� Jo blushed when he met her eyes and smiled.� Dropping her gaze, she went back to her paper, embarrassed to be caught staring.� I’ll bet he’s a CEO, or a lawyer, she thought, not hearing him push his chair back on the stone terrace.� Although he could be in law enforcement, he looks tough enough.� A shadow fell across her, blocking out the sunlight, and she looked up in surprise.
“Mind if I join you?” he inquired.� “I hope I’m not being too forward.�� I’m new in town and yours looked like a friendly face.� I’m Sam, Sam Barringer,” he told her, reaching out to shake her hand.
“Johanna Maxwell, Jo,” she told him, sliding her slim hand into his.� His grip was warm and firm, and she prayed he wouldn’t feel the perspiration on her palm.�� “Please,” she told him withdrawing her hand from his and motioning toward the other seat.
Sam sat down, setting his coffee on the table and watching as she neatly folded her paper and set it aside.� The slight tremble in her hands would be imperceptible to anyone else, but not to him.� Sam noticed everything, from her long mahogany hair to the delicate gold ankle bracelet.� Her eyes were indigo with the faintest of shadows under them, and he wondered why the beautiful woman before him wasn’t sleeping well.� There were little diamond studs in her shell-like ears and an amethyst ring on her right ring finger.� The skirt she wore was a wispy little blue flowered thing, not short, but showing off lovely legs, and her tank top was a pristine white.� Glancing at her plate, he saw most of a croissant left untouched.� �Her cocoa left the tiniest bit of froth on her pink lips before she dabbed it away with her napkin.
“So, Sam, what brings you to our fair city?” she asked, folding her hands on the table and trying not to sound annoyed.� Great, she thought, a lonely, needy man, just what she wasn’t looking for.� Granted, he appeared self-confident and was extremely well put together, but the last thing Jo needed was another demand on her time.� Jo took care of everyone.� If you were moving and needed an extra hand, Jo was your girl. Housesitting, baby-sitting, pet sitting?� No problem.� Need a loan, a last minute date? Call Jo.� In fact, the only person Jo didn’t take care of in her large circle of friends, family and co-workers, was Jo.�
“I’m in town looking at real estate, thinking about relocating one of my offices here,” Sam told her, watching as she fiddled with her spoon.�
“What kind of business are you in?” she asked, looking at her watch.� The little slice of time she had carved out for herself this morning was evaporating quickly.�
Sam’s breakfast arrived before he answered her.� Looking at the enormous amount of food, Jo grimaced.� It looked good.� She couldn’t remember the last time she had eaten a real breakfast.� Usually she didn’t eat breakfast at all, opting for a coffee or a glass of juice when she found time to shop for it.� Her mouth watered, and she picked off a piece of her flaky croissant and nibbled it.
“Would you like some of my omelet?” Sam offered, noticing her watchful eyes.� “I have plenty here, just let me�”
“No, no thank you,” Jo replied quickly, her face flushing.� “I’m fine.� Now what was it you said you did?”
“I didn’t actually,” Sam answered, tucking into his meal with apparent enjoyment.� “I guess you could say that I’m a treasure hunter of sorts.� I procure priceless treasures for a select group of clients. ��We have offices in several major cities in the U.S. and a few overseas.”
“No kidding?” she replied, surprised.� “I would never have guessed. So you chase down valuable objects for a bunch of millionaires who are too busy to do it themselves? I doubt you’ll find many treasures around here.� This isn’t an exceptionally wealthy community.� Apart from the museum and a few antique stores, I’d say the chance of finding priceless items here are limited. �Do you have a card?”
“I do,” he drawled out, “but I don’t think I’ll give it to you just yet.� It’s a very exclusive service and not something I advertise lightly.� Maybe when we know each other better.”
He said it as if he had already decided that would be the case.�
“Strictly speaking, I don’t offer my services exclusively to the very rich,” he continued.� “Although a client would need to have the wherewithal to provide excellent care for their �acquisition, if I’m lucky enough to locate exactly what they are looking for.� As far as there not being priceless things in the area, you’d be surprised.� After all, one man’s trash is another’s treasure.”
“Oh, mysterious,” she laughed.� “What makes you think we will ever know each other well enough for you to give me your card?” she asked, tucking her hair behind her ear.�
“Well, I’d like to know you better, Jo,” he said simply, his dark eyes staring into hers.�
Jo was nervous.� This man was calm and determined.� He boldly asked for what he wanted, no pussyfooting around.� It wasn’t something she was used to.� Most of the men she dated fell into two categories.� Either they were blatantly full of their own sexual prowess, assuming that any woman would love to fall into bed with them, or they were so respectful and timid that she felt as though she were out with her brother, not that she had one.� Jo never met anyone quite as confident as Sam appeared to be, and it made her a little flustered.
Changing the subject, Sam asked Jo about the community she lived in, the local attractions, the economic atmosphere as she saw it, and picked her brain for anything that might be of use to him professionally.� Was there a problem with crime, the homeless, unemployment?� In reality he had already done his homework on the area, but the sound of her voice appealed to him as no other had in a long time.� She was a small woman, exquisitely formed, and he marveled that there was no ring on her ring finger.� Apparently the local yahoos didn’t know a prize when they saw one.�
Jo drew him in like a moth to a flame as she quietly answered his questions and told him a little about herself.� �She spoke casually about her job, her family and friends.� Clearly she was a caregiver, and it was as transparent as glass to Sam that while Jo was taking care of everyone, no one was taking care of Jo, hence the dark circles under her eyes and the frail appearance.� Oh, he didn’t doubt she was a strong woman. She’d have to be to keep up the schedule she set for herself, but Sam knew people, especially women, and he could sense it wouldn’t be long before she burned herself out.� What a shame it would be if this beautiful, vibrant woman lost herself in endless work and responsibility.�
Jo realized she’d been rambling and had probably revealed far more than she intended.� He was so easy to talk to.� He hadn’t interrupted her except to ask a few pertinent questions as he finished his breakfast.� Leaning back in his chair, he studied her.�
“When can I see you again?” he asked.� In his mind, it was imperative that she say yes.
“Sam, it’s been really nice talking to you, but I don’t think I have time for...”
“Then make time�please.� Surely you can spare a few hours for a quiet dinner.� I’m harmless really. You can Google me,” he told her with a grin.
Jo laughed, but she would Google him, just as soon as she got home.� “Alright, I guess we could have dinner.� When did you have in mind?”
“Can you make it tonight?”
“No, I can’t tonight, I have a prior commitment,” Jo told him, picking up her cell and looking at her calendar.
“How about tomorrow then? I’m flexible.”
Somehow Jo didn’t quite believe that.� Her curiosity had always been a problem, and apparently she hadn’t outgrown it.� One way or another she intended to find out exactly what kind of services he provided.
“How long will you be in town?” she asked absently, as she checked her planner.
“As long as I want,” he answered truthfully, his voice deep and firm.
Jo raised her eyebrow and looked at him inquiringly.�
“I can pretty much be anywhere I want.� I don’t mean to sound arrogant.� I have worked extremely hard to get where I am today, and this freedom didn’t come cheaply.� I choose to be here, at least for a while.� Now is tomorrow good for you?” he asked as he reached across the table and took her small hand in his.
It was comforting, the feel of her hand in his.� His dark eyes held hers, and she found herself agreeing without even making sure she could.� If there were something else on her calendar, she would cancel it.� This man was sexy and bold, without making her feel overpowered.� For some reason, she felt she could trust him.� She would have dinner with him.
“Yes, tomorrow’s fine,” she answered, enjoying the tingle she got from his thumb rubbing gently across the back of her hand.� “Where do you want to meet?”
“Give me your address and I’ll pick you up.”
“No,” Jo hedged, “I’ll meet you.”
“Good girl,” Sam said approvingly.� “I’m glad to see there’s a brain in that beautiful head of yours.� Make sure you tell someone where you’ll be and with whom,” he ordered smoothly.�
“I’ll meet you at Delaney’s at seven-thirty. Here’s my number if you need to reach me before that,” he told her as he let go of her hand and scribbled on a corner of his napkin.� He rose when she stood, and, with his hand on her elbow, walked her to the iron rail that separated the terrace from the sidewalk.
“Don’t be late,” he told her, tipping her chin up and gazing into her eyes.
“I’ll try, Mr. Bossy,” Jo answered and grinned.
“Try hard,” he replied, bending and placing a gentle kiss on her cheek.
Johanna smiled and walked away.� It surprised her how natural the kiss felt, as if she had known him for years instead of a couple of hours.� He was certainly not a man one could ignore, that was for sure.� In a relatively short period, she had revealed more about herself and her life than many of her friends knew.� There was something about him that not only intrigued her, but soothed her fears, a potent combination.
Match ME If You Dare, Chapter One
Susan made quite an impact on Sam Barringer as he walked to what he hoped would be the newest branch office of his company, Sugar Babies, Inc. After she slammed into him on a bike that was way too big for her, Sam caught his balance just in time to see the small red-haired young woman her flip over the handlebars and crash to the pavement. Her messenger bag flew off her shoulder, spilling assorted packages and envelopes.� The helmet she wore was lopsided and dented, but at least it had protected her head.
“Geez, mister, why don’t you watch where you’re going?” she demanded as she struggled to her feet.� Blood dripped down her arm, and she swore loudly as she looked around at the mess.
“I’m sorry, miss.� Do you always ride hell bent for election?” Sam asked, taking a handkerchief out of his pocket and dabbing at the cut on her elbow.
“I do when I’m late.� If I don’t get this shit delivered by one, my ass is grass.”
“I would think getting there in one piece would be a priority,” Sam said as he held the cloth over the gash on her arm.
“Well, keeping this job is my priority, along with little things like food and a roof over my head, crappy as it is,” she replied huffily as she tried unsuccessfully to pull away from Sam’s grip.
“Surely your boss will understand.� I think you may need stitches.”
“Surely my boss is a dick and he will fire my ass,” Susan said.
Sam hid his grin and slapped her other hand over the makeshift bandage while he began picking up the contents of her bag and stuffing them inside.� For a little shit, she sure was mouthy, he thought.� No wonder she found it hard to keep a job.� After setting the bag by her feet, he retrieved the bicycle and started to inspect it for damage.
“Look, mister, I don’t mean to be a bitch, but could you hurry it up a little?� I don’t have much time.”
“What is your name, young lady?” Sam asked as he tried the brakes.
“Susan Shaughnessy,” she answered.� “Why, you planning to sue me?”
“Well that name and the red hair explains the temper. And, no, I don’t plan to sue you,” he said with a grin as he pulled a small knife out of his pocket and used it to tighten her handlebars.
“Good, because for fifty bucks you could buy just about everything I own at the pawn shop,” she said.
For a moment, Sam studied her.� She was risky, he knew that right off, but she was also adorable.� Even with that mouth, he thought he could find a place for her, and it would certainly be a step up, if everything she told him were true.
“Susan, here’s my card,” he told her as he helped her back onto the bike.� Damn, her feet didn’t even come close to the ground.� It amazed him that she hadn’t been hurt worse.� “If you need any medical attention from this mishap, I want you to call me and I will take care of the expenses.� I also want to know if you get fired.”
“Why?” she asked, her green eyes wide.�
“Because I said so; I wouldn’t want this little run-in we had to make things difficult for you.”
“Look, mister, I know I bitched, but it was my fault.� I hate this fucking bike, and I hate this job, but I can take care of myself.”
Sam raised his eyebrow in disbelief as Susan tried to peddle away.� Unfortunately, he still had his big hand on the back of the bike and she couldn’t budge.
Susan tried to stare him down to no avail.� Finally she gave in and looked at the card. “Sugar Babies, Inc.,” she read, and then looked at Sam. “What is Sugar Babies, Inc.? A candy store?” Susan snorted.� Noticing the serious look on Sam’s face, Susan slipped the card into her pocket.
�“What are you going to do if I do lose my job, Sam?” she asked seriously.
“I’m going to find you a new one,” he answered confidently.
Susan’s laughter surprised him.� “Well, Sam, I haven’t been able to hold the same job for more than three months in my entire life, so you might just be hearing from me.”
“I’m not surprised,” Sam replied.� “But Susan, if you do call me, I will find you a position, and I can promise you, you won’t be fired.”
“Will I like it?” she asked before she could stop herself, now that her curiosity was peaked.
“Maybe,” Sam replied smiling.� “It might just be the perfect position for you, and the benefits are extraordinary.”
“Okay, Sam, you win,” she offered with a wink as he released her bike.
“Susan, be careful,” he called after her, shaking his head when he heard a horn blow as soon as she turned the corner.� She’d call; he had no doubt, if she didn’t get herself killed first.
Sugar Babies would have died a premature death but for Sam’s keen ability to quickly assess a person’s character and needs.� After climbing the corporate ladder in businesses owned by others, he found himself lonely and frustrated.� He watched the marriages of his friends and associates crumble one after another, finally realizing where he was headed if he didn’t make a change.� Founding Sugar Babies had been a risk, but as it turned out, one worth taking.� The elite matchmaking service was in high demand, but Sam didn’t accept a client unless they had been thoroughly screened and passed with flying colors.� They didn’t advertise and preferred to stay under the radar, doing everything in their power to protect the privacy of their wealthy clients.� The last thing any of these men needed was another gold-digger trying to get their claws into them or blackmail them for their particular tastes.�
Although they catered mainly to men, it was imperative that Sugar Babies insure the well being and security of the women they brought into the organization. Sam often thought of himself as a treasure hunter, of sorts, seeking out overlooked, downtrodden women who just needed a helping hand, whether it was financial, physical or emotional.� He and his staff had matched woman from every socioeconomic class, from waitresses and bus drivers to doctors and CEO’s.� Several times they had been able to pull women from life-threatening situations and help them establish new lives, careers and nurturing relationships.
�Every couple signed a binding contract spelling out the expectations and requirements of each party.� These ranged from simple companionship agreements to documents containing specific details regarding sexual arrangements and discipline.� Most of these men had been burned multiple times and wanted a relationship where they were the leader, giving loving guidance and firm consequences for misbehavior.� As a rule, these men had had enough of being manipulated by beautiful, self-centered women and were looking for a relationship based on mutual commitment and trust. And they were prepared to pay dearly for it.�
There was also a very select group of men who were searching for women they could parent in one fashion or another, a way of life known as age-play.� This group of clients consisted of Daddies, looking for their own little girl to love and cherish.� Sam originally thought these matches would be much more difficult to arrange, but amazingly he found there were plenty of women out there who jumped at the chance to be taken care of.� Obviously, the young woman who’d almost run him down would benefit from a little guidance.
Instead of heading straight to the office, Sam decided a cup of coffee was in order after his run-in with the red head. He wanted to think about the feisty little bike messenger, whether she would be a good fit for Sugar Babies.
He found a diner nearby, and the moment he walked in, he was drawn to the woman waiting tables on her own.� Young, probably less than twenty-five, she was a tiny little thing.� Seated at the very end of the long counter, he was able to observe her easily as she came to take his order.� Blonde hair framed a sweet face, and it was impossible not to notice the black eye, despite the amount of make-up she used to conceal it.
“What can I get for you, sir?� Would you like a menu?” she asked softly, as though it hurt her lips to speak.
“I’ll have a coffee,” Sam replied as gently as he could, while anger pulsed through him.� This girl had been beaten and recently.� She winced when she picked up the coffee pot, and it was all he could do not to reach around the counter and take it from her.� “What’s your name?”
Before she could answer, a loud voice boomed from the back of the dinner.
“Kelsey, get your skinny butt in here and pick up these orders.� I don't have all day to wait for your sorry ass to do your job.”
Handing Sam the menu, the girl hurried away.�� Sam restrained himself, barely, from walking into the kitchen and decking the bigmouth jerk.� He would bet money it was the same man who had abused the girl. After about twenty minutes, she came back to refill his cup.
“Have you decided on what you want?”
“Kelsey, who is that man screaming at you like that?”
“That’s Rusty.� He owns this place.”
“Did he give you that black eye?” Sam asked, trying not to let his emotions show.� He had walked to the restroom and gotten a good look at the jerk.� Probably in his mid-fifties, the bald man was large, overweight and just plain dirty.� His apron was covered with stains, and they didn’t look fresh.� Several teeth were gold capped, and his bulbous nose indicated he had a problem with alcohol or drugs.
“Yeah, but it was my fault,” Kelsey admitted, her voice low.� “I dropped four plates last night, and he had to recook all the dinners. He said he would either take it out of my pay or�”
She flushed and didn’t finish the sentence, her head down as she wiped the counter.
“Why do you stay working here?” Sam asked firmly.
“I don’t have a choice.� I have no family, and he lets me sleep in the back room. The only thing that scares me is that sometimes he gets drunk and comes back late at night, says he’s just checking up on me.”
“Has he tried to�?” Sam whispered, sickened by this young girl’s plight.
“No, not yet, but I’ve got a knife under my mattress just in case. I don’t mean to be rude, but why are you asking me all these questions?� Are you a cop?” she asked, her eyes growing wide. “Because if you are, I ain’t pressing charges. I’d be out on the street.”
“I haven’t been in town long and I’m just checking things out.� I’ve opened and office here and I’m sure I can find you a job.� Here’s my card.� Keep it some place safe, and call this number when you have a moment to talk.� Tell them Sam Barringer told you to make an appointment as soon as possible. They’ll make all the arrangements. How old are you, Kelsey?”
“I’ll be twenty-one next week,” she answered looking at the card carefully.� “Sam I don’t have any fancy clothes to wear for a job interview,” she whispered, blushing in shame.
“Kelsey, I don’t care if you wear the uniform you have on now or jeans or a cardboard box.� Just make that call, okay?”� After placing a five-dollar bill on the counter for his coffee, Sam pressed a fifty into her hand. She handed the bill back to him, shaking her head.
“Okay, Sam, I’ll call. But I can’t take your money.”
Sam thought about pressing the point, but decided to let her get back to her tables before her boss used the delay as an excuse to punish her more.
He walked out hoping Kelsey would call soon; he wasn’t sure she’d make it to her twenty-first birthday if she didn’t.� Using his cell, he called his main office.
“Barringer Corporation.� How may I direct your call,” a silky female voice answered.
“Erica, this is Sam.� I want you to put me through to Jeff, but first I need you to do something for me.”
“Anything for you, Sam,” she said.
“There will be a woman calling for an interview.� Her name is Kelsey, and I want you to handle the arrangements.� Don’t put her through to Jeff and nothing specific on the position.� She’s in a desperate situation and I don’t want to scare her off.� Even if she doesn’t take the position, we will find a place for her doing something, anything, but don’t let her fear screw this up.� Kid gloves, Erica. Got it?”
“I understand completely, Sam - you’re a softy.”
“If you saw her, you’d feel the same way.� Now send me to Jeff.”
“Hi, Jeff, it’s Sam.� How are things in Atlanta?”
“Fine, Sam. Are you still in New York?”
“Yes, still checking things out, and so far it’s looking good.� I think this might be a good area after all.� You know I like to keep a low profile, and this is a pretty central location.� It’s close enough to the city, but still far enough for anonymity.� Our services aren’t exactly main stream.”
“Right, but still in demand nonetheless.� I’ve done a couple of interviews this week, and I think at least one of them is interested.� A young widow with a baby, she’s just as sweet as can be.� The other one is all sass and vinegar.� It wouldn’t be hard to place her in a good position at all.� The widow will require some serious consideration, as there is a child involved, but with care we should be able to do it.”
“No doubt,” Sam replied.� “I’m meeting this afternoon with a real estate agent to look at a property I think might just be the ticket.� It’s an older home in a residential area that’s recently been zoned for commerce.� Very stately and well kept. I’d be able to use a portion of the house for personal living space until I decide how long I’m staying here.� If I decide to move on, I could always rent it out.� Get a team together that can move quickly if I decide to go with it.� I don’t want to screw around once I make up my mind.”
“Have you ever?” Jeff asked with a chuckle.� “I’m on it, Sam.� Get back to me and let me know.”
“I will.� Talk to you soon.”
Matched for Keeps, Chapter One
Susan Shaughnessy stretched and yawned, nestling her bare toes under Marcus McCarthy's firm thigh.� Taking a mimosa from his hand, she smiled like the cat that ate the canary before taking a sip.� The past month had been an unbelievable ride, and were it not for Kelsey Reed, her best friend sitting across from her with a slightly panicked look on her face, she would have thought it was all a dream.
A month ago, Sue was working for a messenger service, riding a deplorable bike and hating every minute of it.� Barely making enough money to keep a roof over her head, she hocked just about everything she owned, including her grandmother's silver, which almost broke her heart.� Thankfully, that silver was now riding in the trunk of a huge, shiny black limo, courtesy of one Marcus McCarthy, best-selling author and client of the very elite matchmaking service,Sugar Babies, Inc.�
Susan never even suspected such an organization existed until that fine summer day when she rode he