because of...circumstance.”
Orson’s voice became harsh. “Are you going to sit there and tell me what to do? Who’s the head of this family, woman? I know what I have to do. I’ve always known. My gift is knowing what to do and who to watch. He’s a dark horse. Got some of his mother still left in him. Enough to cause damage if I’m not careful.”
“He’s a Randolph first.”
“No harm in reminding him of that every once in a while.” He poured himself a drink. “I wonder what this woman is like.”
“I’m sure she’s fine.”
“Do you?” He looked at her. Really looked at her. He hadn’t done so in so many years he was surprised to see how much older she looked. The fine lines of her brown skin, thinning gray hair expertly curled, even the gaze looked older. He didn’t usually feel the years creeping up on him; he only felt them when looking at those around him like his wife, his sons and grandchildren. They reflected that time was running out for him. He had to make sure things went smoothly in his absence. That his bloodline and all he’d built continued to live on. He turned away from his wife’s simple face. “Yes, you would.” However, he wasn’t so sure. The banquet would prove to be interesting.
***
Brenna stared at the woman in front of her with a sense of hopelessness she hadn’t felt in years. Helen Voltanz had wide gray eyes that could be considered attractive if the look of desperation had been replaced by a more serene expression. Nervous fingers tugged on the strap of her handbag. She seemed harmless, except she was so desperate to get married and start a family that she terrified every single man who crossed her path. Unfortunately, Margaret O’Hanson, Brenna’s on-call dating consultant, had pegged Helen as a lost cause and refused to do anymore sessions with her.
“Just give me another chance,” Helen begged. “I know where I went wrong. I’m thirty-two years old. You’re my last hope. My fertile years are whittling away. I’ve already passed twenty-five, which is a woman’s peak fertile years and now my eggs are shriveling up and most of the men my age are dating younger women and—”
“That’s the attitude that is getting you into trouble,” Brenna cut in. “You want to get married now . So you’re ready to marry the first guy that looks at you. That’s not healthy. I’m thirty and feel there’s time.”
“But you’re different.”
Brenna let the comment pass. She clasped her hands together and rested them on the table. “If you want a baby there are many ways—”
“No,” she said firmly. “I want to get married.”
“Marriage is a partnership. You’re thinking about all that you want, but what do you have to offer?”
“I’ll be a wonderful mother.”
“How about a wife?”
Helen nodded quickly. “Yes, that too.”
Brenna bit back a groan. She wasn’t sure of that anymore. “I don’t think I’m the right agency for you.”
“Oh, but you are. I didn’t mean what I said about you being different.”
“Listen, Helen, it’s nothing personal, I assure you. I just think you deserve a service that will address your needs. Think about it. There is certainly an agency out there that can help you and will see you go down the aisle in no time.” Brenna doubted it, but wanted to offer her hope. “I’ll see where I can refer you.”
“Thank you.” Helen jumped to her feet and shook her hand. “Thank you. Thank you so much.”
Brenna smiled, relieved the meeting was over. She discreetly pulled her hand away flexing the fingers that had been enthusiastically crushed. “Yes, you’re welcome.”
Once Helen left, Pauline entered the room. “Did you drop her?”
“I don’t drop clients. I end consultation.”
Pauline wasn’t in the mood to worry about semantics. “Did you drop her?”
Brenna picked up a pen. “Yes.”
“She’ll go to your competition.”
Brenna bit the end. “I know. I plan to recommend
Orson’s voice became harsh. “Are you going to sit there and tell me what to do? Who’s the head of this family, woman? I know what I have to do. I’ve always known. My gift is knowing what to do and who to watch. He’s a dark horse. Got some of his mother still left in him. Enough to cause damage if I’m not careful.”
“He’s a Randolph first.”
“No harm in reminding him of that every once in a while.” He poured himself a drink. “I wonder what this woman is like.”
“I’m sure she’s fine.”
“Do you?” He looked at her. Really looked at her. He hadn’t done so in so many years he was surprised to see how much older she looked. The fine lines of her brown skin, thinning gray hair expertly curled, even the gaze looked older. He didn’t usually feel the years creeping up on him; he only felt them when looking at those around him like his wife, his sons and grandchildren. They reflected that time was running out for him. He had to make sure things went smoothly in his absence. That his bloodline and all he’d built continued to live on. He turned away from his wife’s simple face. “Yes, you would.” However, he wasn’t so sure. The banquet would prove to be interesting.
***
Brenna stared at the woman in front of her with a sense of hopelessness she hadn’t felt in years. Helen Voltanz had wide gray eyes that could be considered attractive if the look of desperation had been replaced by a more serene expression. Nervous fingers tugged on the strap of her handbag. She seemed harmless, except she was so desperate to get married and start a family that she terrified every single man who crossed her path. Unfortunately, Margaret O’Hanson, Brenna’s on-call dating consultant, had pegged Helen as a lost cause and refused to do anymore sessions with her.
“Just give me another chance,” Helen begged. “I know where I went wrong. I’m thirty-two years old. You’re my last hope. My fertile years are whittling away. I’ve already passed twenty-five, which is a woman’s peak fertile years and now my eggs are shriveling up and most of the men my age are dating younger women and—”
“That’s the attitude that is getting you into trouble,” Brenna cut in. “You want to get married now . So you’re ready to marry the first guy that looks at you. That’s not healthy. I’m thirty and feel there’s time.”
“But you’re different.”
Brenna let the comment pass. She clasped her hands together and rested them on the table. “If you want a baby there are many ways—”
“No,” she said firmly. “I want to get married.”
“Marriage is a partnership. You’re thinking about all that you want, but what do you have to offer?”
“I’ll be a wonderful mother.”
“How about a wife?”
Helen nodded quickly. “Yes, that too.”
Brenna bit back a groan. She wasn’t sure of that anymore. “I don’t think I’m the right agency for you.”
“Oh, but you are. I didn’t mean what I said about you being different.”
“Listen, Helen, it’s nothing personal, I assure you. I just think you deserve a service that will address your needs. Think about it. There is certainly an agency out there that can help you and will see you go down the aisle in no time.” Brenna doubted it, but wanted to offer her hope. “I’ll see where I can refer you.”
“Thank you.” Helen jumped to her feet and shook her hand. “Thank you. Thank you so much.”
Brenna smiled, relieved the meeting was over. She discreetly pulled her hand away flexing the fingers that had been enthusiastically crushed. “Yes, you’re welcome.”
Once Helen left, Pauline entered the room. “Did you drop her?”
“I don’t drop clients. I end consultation.”
Pauline wasn’t in the mood to worry about semantics. “Did you drop her?”
Brenna picked up a pen. “Yes.”
“She’ll go to your competition.”
Brenna bit the end. “I know. I plan to recommend
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