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“Miss Palmer! This is Marsha from the agency.”
“Hey there, Marsha. What can I do for you?”
“I wanted to let you know that per interest with a very high-profile client, we decided to fast track your labs, and everything came back wonderful.”
“That’s … wow. That was fast. I was only in there a couple of days ago.”
“Well, we had someone come in for a consultation who we feel would be a great match for you and what you specified you were looking for in a man who would take over guardianship of the child.”
“So he’s a good man?” I asked.
“We’ve had him extensively researched. And he’s as good as they come.”
A wave of relief rush through my veins, but I wasn’t getting my hopes up yet. I wanted to make sure that whoever I did this with could provide for the child and give them the best life possible.
I wanted someone who would love them and take care of them and treat them with all the respect in the world. I wasn't going to do this with any man, and I liked that the agency gave me the ability to turn down a man like he had the ability to turn me down.
But listening to Marsha tell me he was a good match did provide a bit of comfort.
“So, where do we go from here?” I asked.
“We’ll set up a mutual meeting for the two of you to sit down and talk. Just to get to know each other a little bit. See if it’s a good match. It’s one thing to match on paper, but it’s another to sit down and meet face-to-face.”
“I agree with you there,” I said. “Am I allowed to know his name?”
“Not until the meeting is set. We have strict guidelines from giving out that kind of information, but we will send you a picture of what he looks like. The company also has personal security that will be driving by the place the two of you will meet should something happen, so you’re watched over and protected by us.”
“Good. That makes me feel better.”
“Your match has two places he’s agreed to meet. One is a restaurant in the middle of Whitefish, and another is a coffee shop not too far from the agency itself. Do you have a preference?”
“The coffee shop, definitely,” I said.
“Perfect. I’ll inform our client, and he’ll get back to me with a time. Then, I’ll call you and relay that time to you. We’ll get it on the books, have security set up to check in on the place from time to time, and then we’ll get the two of you meeting.”
I hung up the phone as nerves rushed through my veins. I distracted myself with baking and coming up with new creations I could use to really stick it to the bakery up the street.
I needed something that drew people in, something different that no one could replicate. I kept the door to the kitchen open in case any customers came in for anything, and then I started messing around with hybrid desserts and looking up recipes for culinary masterpieces I could practice and sell.
Then, my phone rang.
“Hello?” I asked.
“Marsha again!”
“Hello Marsha.” “Our client suggested three o’clock today. Is that something you can do?”
I looked down at my messy clothes and sighed. For two hundred thousand dollars or more, I would make it happen.
“Yes, I can,” I said. “Tell him I’ll see him then.”
“I’ll shoot you a picture of him. Good luck!”
Then, my phone dinged seconds later with a picture of a very handsome man.
Once I got myself cleaned up and my bakery shut down for the day, I headed to the coffee shop. I took a taxi to the meeting place.
The second I walked in, I realized quickly that the picture Marsha sent did the man little justice.
