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“It still fills me with a sense of accomplishment, and it makes me proud to be able to continue making a difference in people’s lives.”
Tiffany held up her glass. “Here’s to us. May we never lose sight of dreams and what makes us truly fulfilled.”
Ivan held up his glass and clinked it with hers. “Here’s to you, for having such an antiquated alarm system that allowed us to meet in the first place.”
That made her laugh. She touched his glass again, and took a sip of her wine. “You don’t think Norma Jean would’ve eventually tried to push us together? Granted, you’re built like a tank, so I really don’t think anyone would be pushing you too far, but if anyone could, it would be Jeannie.”
Ivan’s right eyebrow shot up. “A tank?”
“Yes, a devastatingly handsome, incredibly sexy tank,” she added.
“Oh, well, then I can deal with tank.” He grinned lasciviously. “And no, I don’t think she would’ve tried matching us up. I was pretty clear when I told her I wasn’t interested in blind dates. So far she’s respected my wishes.”
Tiffany looked skeptical. “About as clear as Adrian has been over the last twenty years?”
“Well, he’s her son. Of course she has a vested interest in him marrying.”
They both had a good laugh at that. Since Ivan was relatively new to the Love Broker experience, Tiffany brought him up to speed on some of her not-so-near misses.
“I think you all should find Jeannie a new hobby. It doesn’t sound like she’s that great a matchmaker.”
“I wonder about that,” Tiffany said seriously. “I think she’s shrewder than anybody gives her credit for.”
Ivan glanced up from his plate. “How so?”
“Think about it. She sets up all these dates that go awry, and when a real connection is made, it’s like fireworks, and all the past nightmares make couples appreciate when it goes right. You don’t think that’s like reverse psychology or something?”
Ivan pondered that for a moment. “Nah. Jeannie didn’t have anything to do with Adrian and Milán getting together. She introduced them for business reasons, and then they found their way on their own.”
Tiffany was speculative. “Or did they?”
*
After dinner, they shared a torta al ricotta e mascarpone for dessert.
“Okay, I’m seriously done,” she groaned after taking the last bite. “I can’t thank you enough for bringing me here, Ivan. It was the best Italian I’ve ever had.”
Ivan paid the bill and then helped her up. “I’m glad you liked it.”
When they got outside, Ivan had the valet bring his Range Rover around.
He checked his watch. “I’ve got an idea for what we can do now, but we have to hurry.”
Ivan drove them the short distance to Navy Pier, a Chicago tradition for entertainment and summer fun on Lake Michigan since its revitalization years before. The landmark had over fifty acres of gardens, promenades, restaurants, shops and attractions.
“Where are we going?” she asked. “If you think I’m going on a hundred-and-fifty-foot-high Ferris wheel after eating all that food, think again.”
“That’s not what we’re doing.”
Tiffany took a moment to ogle the forty spokes of the ride lit up in sparkling lights. “It’s beautiful.”
Ivan stopped to grab her hand. “It is, but keep moving.”
“We aren’t going to ride the carousel, or the wave swinger, are we?”
“I promise that you won’t be going on anything motorized.”
They reached the dock, where Tiffany was afforded a beautiful view of the water and the surrounding sites.
