Once Upon a Matchmaker Read Online Free PDF

definitely not the kind of response that a person had to their potential lawyer.

Chapter Three
    S everal seconds went by as Tracy waited for the man on the other end to say something.
    Had he hung up? Or was he just reconsidering his options? If it was the latter, she had a sneaking suspicion she knew why. Over the phone, she sounded younger than she actually was. Youth didn’t exactly generate confidence in clients who found themselves in need of a criminal lawyer. That was why she always preferred to meet a client face-to-face for the first time.
    While at five-six, slender and blond, Tracy knew that she would never be mistaken for a football lineman, at least she didn’t look as if she was a senior in high school, which was the way she sounded on the phone according to Simon, her ex. In reality, she was twenty-nine—going on sixty.
    Some days, she felt even older than that.
    “Mr. Muldare?” she prodded after another minute had gone by. If he’d hung up, where was the dial tone? “Are you there?”
    The sound of her voice had thrown him. He’d come very close to asking to speak to her mother before realizing that this was the lawyer his aunt’s friend had referred him to.
    “Micah,” he told her. “Call me Micah.” After all, if she was going to be his attorney, he had a feeling they were going to be spending more than a little time together.
    “All right, Micah, ” she said, deliberately emphasizing his name, “just how is it that I can help you?”
    You can wave your wand and make this all go away. Wouldn’t that be a neat trick? he couldn’t help thinking sarcastically. Out loud he asked, “You’re a criminal lawyer, right?”
    “Right,” she echoed, then waited for him to continue. Instead, she heard him sigh. “Is something wrong, Mr. Mul—Micah?”
    She heard him laugh. It was more of a disparaging sound than a happy one.
    “Chronologically or alphabetically?” Micah asked.
    “Excuse me?”
    “Well, I really don’t know where to begin,” Micah admitted somewhat helplessly.
    “In my experience, the beginning is usually the best place.” And then, because there was another, somewhat long pause on his end, Tracy decided a few questions might be in order. “Why don’t we start with where you got my name and number.” She gave him several choices. “Was it off the internet or did you—”
    “My aunt got your name from one of her friends. I’m not sure of the exact relationship but I think it’s safe to say that it was a friend of a friend.” He stopped, realizing how ridiculous all this had to be sounding to her. “I’m afraid I’ve never done anything like this before—looked for a lawyer,” he explained in case she didn’t know what he was talking about—and why should she? Rattled by this unexpected turn his life had taken, he was barely making any coherent sense. It had all served to put him on the hairy edge. “And I usually don’t ramble like this,” Micah added.
    Rather than make some sort of belittling noise or say something that conveyed the presence of an attitude, he heard the woman on the other end say, “I’m sure you don’t. Finding themselves needing a criminal lawyer usually knocks the average person for a loop. Why don’t you come into the office tomorrow and tell me why you feel you need my services?”
    He’d have to see about arranging for some comp time at work. The way things were going there lately, though, making up time was the least of his problems. He was already facing restricted duty, and his security clearance had been suspended pending further notice.
    “Sounds good. What time?” he asked the adolescent-sounding woman.
    Tracy pulled over her desk calendar—the existence of which the administrative assistant she shared with two other lawyers at the firm always found incredibly amusing—and glanced at the appointments that were listed for tomorrow.
    The page was full.
    She suppressed a sigh, thinking. “How about after hours?” she