Page 35 of Sweetwater and the Witch

All in all, things had been going remarkably well, Ravenna thought. Until now.

She dipped her spoon into the rich fish stew. “I think it’s safe to say your dating style is... unique.”

“So as my matchmaker, you need to identify a niche market and sell me into it, right?”

“We at Ottoway try not to describe our professional work in crass marketing terms. It makes the process of finding the right person sound too much like a business transaction.”

Ethan nodded in understanding. “It does take away the romantic aspect, doesn’t it? Hypothetically speaking, what does the profile of my ideal soul mate look like?”

“Hypothetically speaking, I have absolutely no idea. Back at the start I was sure I could find the right person for you. Like I said, I was overoptimistic.”

Ethan slathered herbed butter on a chunk of bread and made a tsk-tsk sound. “And you call yourself a matchmaker.”

“In fairness, you didn’t give me a lot of information to work with.”

“You are supposed to use your talent, not a lot of questions about hobbies and lifestyle.”

“You might be interested to know that you are my first failure.” She put down the spoon and reached for her wineglass. “That wouldn’t be the biggest disaster in the world for me—no matchmaker gets it right one hundred percent of the time. But unfortunately, the Sweetwater name makes you a potentially career-ending failure.”

He had the grace to wince. “Sorry about that.”

“If I don’t find you a good match, I will be put on probation.”

“I appreciate your situation but I am not going to accept a bad match just to save your career. I’m happy to help you dispose of an inconvenient stalker, but I have to draw the line somewhere.”

She took a sip of wine and lowered the glass. “I spent the whole day wondering if the cops were going to arrest me.”

Ethan frowned, apparently surprised by that admission. “I’m sorry you were under so much stress. You should have called me and said you were worried. I could have reassured you.”

“How?”

“The Sweetwater name does have some practical uses. Willis hasclout in this town, but that’s as far as his reach goes. My family’s reach is a lot longer and more powerful, and the folks who run this city are well aware of that.”

“I see.” Ravenna swirled the wine in her glass. “You mean if I got arrested you would have pulled some strings to keep me out of jail?”

“Sure. Don’t forget, I’m as deep in this thing as you are. So is Aunt Zora.”

Out of nowhere a rush of guilt rolled over her. “You’re right. I hadn’t thought about it in those terms. Thanks to me you’re both involved in what probably constitutes a felony. My fault. I shouldn’t have let you help me deal with Willis. I should have taken care of things on my own.” A thought struck her. “If you hadn’t arrived six minutes early—”

“Oh, so now it’s my fault?”

“In a way.”

“Stop right there.” Ethan raised a hand, palm out. “Aunt Zora and I knew exactly what we were doing. It was our choice to give you a hand with Willis. Don’t worry about it. We can take care of ourselves. Let’s get back to the matchmaking business. You admitted you have no clue how to match me. What about yourself?”

“Me?”

“How would you define your ideal match?”

“I have no idea,” Ravenna said.

Ethan had been about to eat some of the roasted vegetables. He stopped and set the fork down with great precision. His eyes flashed with curiosity.

“You’re serious,” he said.

“Of course.” She tore off a hunk of bread and reached for the butter knife. “Everyone in my business knows that matchmakers are never able to spot the best match for themselves. We hire professionals, same as everyone else. That’s why I’m registered with the competition.”

“Huh.” Ethan picked up the fork and went back to the roastedvegetables. “Is it hard to identify your own match because you can’t be objective? Can’t get enough distance from your own emotions?”

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