Page 6 of Sweetwater and the Witch

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She expected the dust bunny to disappear before she and the others emerged from the Underworld, but her new best friend was still in the crook of her arm when she walked through the front door of her apartment. She opened the jar of pretzels. The dust bunny chortled enthusiastically and selected several. Munching pretzels, she set out to explore the small space.

Ravenna watched her for a few minutes.

“If you’re planning to stick around, we’re going to need a name,” she said.

Chapter Three

“You can’t dump me,” Ethan Sweetwater said. “I’ve got a contract with this matchmaking agency. You owe me one more date.”

“To be clear,” Ravenna said, “I am not dumping you. I am trying to explain that I cannot help you.”

“I don’t believe it. When my nephew Jeff recommended you, he said you have the eye.”

“Your nephew met me one time, and that was several months ago, when I was doing criminal profiling, not matchmaking. This work is quite different.”

Actually, it was not all that different, she reflected. It turned out that criminal profiling had a lot in common with matchmaking. The emotional drivers were key.

“Maybe you’re not trying hard enough,” Ethan suggested.

That was nothing less than an insult.

“I am a professional, Mr.Sweetwater,” she said coldly. “I assure you Ihave given your case my closest attention. In fact, all four of us here at Ottoway, including Ms.Ottoway herself, have gone through the files several times trying to find good matches for you.”

She did not add that there were only two reasons Ethan Sweetwater—aka the client from green hell—was still on the books. The primary one was the contract. It stipulated that he was to receive a minimum of ten matches.

The second reason, of course, was that Bernice Ottoway, the proprietor of Ottoway Matchmakers, was desperate not to lose such a high-profile client. The Sweetwater name carried a lot of weight, not just in Illusion Town but throughout the four city-states. A successful match for a member of the notoriously private clan that controlled a huge chunk of the amber market would give Ottoway a major promotional hit. It also would do a lot for her career, Ravenna thought. Sadly, a successful outcome did not appear to be in the cards.

“We will be happy to refund your money and refer you to another agency,” Ravenna said. Mentally she crossed her fingers. Bernice Ottoway never returned a client’s money if she could help it, but surely she would understand that Ethan Sweetwater was a hopeless case.

“I don’t want to waste my time starting from scratch at another agency,” Ethan said. “I was assured that here at Ottoway the process would be efficient and professional.”

“It would have helped if you had been more forthcoming on the Ottoway questionnaire,” Ravenna said.

“Don’t try to blame this on me, Ms.Chastain. I’m the client, remember? The customer is always right.”

He was standing in front of her desk. He reached down somewhat absently to scratch Harriet behind her ears. The dust bunny was in the process of rearranging the pens in the tray. She paused to chortle appreciatively.

Ravenna stifled a groan. She and the entire staff at Ottoway might have a problem with Ethan, but Harriet’s relationship with him was just fine.Uncomplicated,she thought.Unlike mine.

“I must tell you that, according to the after-action reports I received from the nine dates I arranged for you, your dating technique leaves something to be desired,” she said.

“There you go, blaming the client again. If I’ve got a technique problem, you should help me fix it.”

Ethan adjusted his black-framed glasses, turned away from the desk, and crossed the office. He took a stance at the window overlooking the quiet residential street.

She liked watching him move, Ravenna thought. He reminded her of a specter-cat, all prowling grace and elegant strength. He had the eyes to match. They were a dark amber gold and infused with the cold heat of controlled power—the eyes of an apex predator. The amber stone in his gold signet ring was the same color.

Eyes like Ethan’s probably made some people nervous, she thought. Maybe that was the reason he chose to wear glasses. Or maybe he thought they went with the rest of his persona. He was an engineer by training and profession, and he had the pocket protector and chunky multifunction watch to prove it. Just to complete the fashion statement, he wore cargo trousers, a button-down shirt, a narrow, nondescript tie, and a slouchy jacket that looked as if it had been chosen for comfort and convenient pockets, not style.

But just as his nephew had somehow made the bulky FBPI vest and utility belt look good, Ethan managed to pull off the same sartorial miracle. Maybe it was because of the unmistakable aura of power and control that charged the atmosphere around him.

If you did not know what he did for a living and if you substituted dark glasses for the black frames, it would be easy to imagine him as a professional assassin.One who only targeted the bad guys,she assured herself. Well, maybe. Regardless, you would not want to be one of Ethan Sweetwater’s targets.

“I sincerely regret that Ottoway Matchmakers was unable to find the right person for you, but occasionally we fail to bring about an idealmatch,” she said. “I assure you we deeply regret our inability to be of assistance.”

That was nothing less than the truth. Bernice Ottoway was going to be very unhappy about the failure.

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