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Annabelle nearly choked. She'd known Molly would be suspicious, but she hadn't expected an outright confrontation. "Are you nuts? Setting aside the fact that he treats me like a flunky, I'd never fall for a workaholic after what I've had to go through with my family." Falling in lust, however, was an entirely different matter.

"He has a calculator for a heart," Molly said.

"I thought you liked him."

"I love him. He handled Kevin's negotiations brilliantly, and, believe me, my sister can be a real cheapo. Heath's smart, I've never met anybody who works so hard, he'll do anything for his clients, and he's as ethical as any agent's ever going to get. But he's the worst candidate for a love match I've ever met."

"You think I don't know that? This weekend is business. He's rejected everybody Powers and I set him up with. There's something we're both missing, and I can't figure out what that is during those stingy slivers of time he gives me." She was speaking the truth. This was exactly where she needed to concentrate her attention this weekend, looking into his psyche instead of noticing how good he smelled or how gorgeous his stupid green eyes were.

Molly still looked worried. "I'd like to believe you, but I've got a weird feeling that-"

What kind of feeling she had was lost as more footsteps sounded on the dock. They turned to see Krystal Greer and Charmaine Pruitt joining them. Krystal looked like a younger Diana Ross. Tonight, she'd tied her long, curly hair up with a red ribbon that matched her bandanna top. She was tiny, but she carried herself like a queen, and entering her forties hadn't altered either her model's cheekbones or her take-no-prisoners attitude.

Despite their diametrical personalities, she and Charmaine had been best friends for years. Charmaine, conservatively dressed in a cranberry cotton twin set and twill walking shorts, was curvy, sweet, and serious. A former librarian and current church organist, she centered her life around her husband and two little boys. The first time Annabelle had met Charmaine's husband, Darnell, she'd been struck speechless by what seemed the mismatch of the century. Although Annabelle knew Darnell had once played for the Stars, she hadn't paid much attention to football in those days, and she'd imagined someone as conservative as Charmaine. Instead, Darnell had a diamond-embedded gold front tooth, a seemingly endless collection of dark glasses, and a penchant for bling-bling that rivaled a hip-hop headliner. Appearances, however, were deceiving. Over half their book club selections were based on his recommendations.

"I can't get over the way the sky looks up here." Charmaine wrapped her arms around herself and gazed at the stars. "Living in the city, you forget."

"You're going to have a bigger surprise this weekend than a sky full of pretty stars," Krystal said smugly.

"Either spill your big secret or keep quiet about it," Charmaine retorted. She turned to Annabelle and Molly. "Krystal keeps dropping hints about some big surprise she has planned. Do either of you know what it is?"

Annabelle and Molly shook their heads.

Krystal slipped her thumbs in the front pockets of her shorts and stuck out a set of still perky breasts. "I'll just say this… Our Miss Charmaine might need a little therapy after I'm done with her. As for the rest of you… Just be prepared."

"For what?" Janine approached with Sharon McDermitt and Phoebe, who'd pulled on a pink zippered hoodie with matching sweatpants and held a glass of chardonnay. Janine, with her prematurely gray pixie, artisan's jewelry, and ankle-length block-print sundress, was coming off a bad year: the death of her mother, breast cancer, and a bad bout of writer's block. The friendship of the book club meant everything to her. When she'd been sick, Annabelle and Charmaine had brought her meals and run errands, Phoebe had arranged for regular massages and called her daily, Krystal tended her garden, and Molly nagged her into starting to write again. Sharon McDermitt, the best listener in the group, had been her confidante. Next to Molly, Sharon was Phoebe's best friend, and she headed the Stars' charity foundation.

"Apparently Krystal has a secret," Molly said, "which, as usual, she'll reveal when she's good and ready."

While the rest of them speculated over what Krystal's secret might be, Annabelle tried to figure out the best way to broach a perilous subject. Although she'd been lucky so far, she couldn't count on her luck lasting forever, and when there was a lull in the conversation, she plunged in. "I might need a little help this weekend."

She knew by their expectant expressions that they wanted her to explain why she'd shown up with Heath, but she wasn't volunteering any more than she already had. She toyed with the yellow band of her Swatch daisy watch. "All of you know how much Perfect for You means to me. If I don't make a success of this, it'll basically prove my mother's right about everything. And I really don't want to be an accountant."

"Kate puts too much pressure on you," Sharon said, not for the first time.

Annabelle shot her a grateful smile. "Thanks to Molly, I had an interview with Heath. But the thing is, I needed to engage in a small act of subterfuge to get his name on my contract."

"What kind of subterfuge?" Janine asked.

She took a deep breath and told them how she'd fixed him up with Gwen.

Molly gasped. "He's going to kill you. I mean it, Annabelle. When he finds out you deceived him-and he will find out- he'll go ballistic."

"He boxed me into a corner." Annabelle hunched her shoulders and rubbed her arm. "I admit it was a crappy thing to do, but I only had twenty-four hours to come up with a knockout candidate, or I was going to lose him."

"That is not a man to mess with," Sharon said. "You wouldn't believe some of the stories I've heard from Ron."

Annabelle gnawed her bottom lip. "I know I have to tell him the truth. I just need to find the right moment."

Krystal cocked her hip. "Girl, there is no right moment to die."

Charmaine clucked her tongue. "You are going straight to the top on my prayer list."

Only Phoebe looked pleased, and her amber eyes glowed like a cat's. "I love this. Not the fact that you'll end up in a shallow grave-I'm really sorry about that, and I'll make sure he's prosecuted to the fullest extent of the law. But I love knowing that a mere slip of a female put one over on the great Python."

Molly glared at her sister. "This is the exact reason why Christine Jeffreys won't let her daughter have a sleepover with the twins. You frighten people." And then, to Annabelle, "What do you want us to do?"

"Just don't mention Gwen's name around him, that's all. I can't see any reason the guys would mention her, so I'll have to hope for the best with them. Unless any of you can find a way to clue them in without actually telling them what I did."

"I vote we tell them the truth," Phoebe said. "They'll laugh at him behind his back for months."

"You don't get a vote," Krystal said. "Not on anything that involves the Python."

"That is so unfair." Phoebe sniffed.

Charmaine patted her arm. "You're a little irrational on the subject."

The sound of male laughter drifted toward them from the beach. "We'd better get back," Molly said. "We've got all day tomorrow to talk about Annabelle's problems, including why she brought Heath in the first place."

Sharon looked worried. "I think that's fairly obvious. Annabelle, really, what were you thinking?"

"It's business!" she exclaimed.

"Monkey business," Krystal muttered.

"Heath needed to get away for a while, and I need a chance to figure out why the matches aren't working. There's nothing more to it than that."

Charmaine exchanged a loaded glance with Phoebe, ready to say more, but Molly came to Annabelle's rescue. "We'd better get back before they start running plays."

All of them turned toward the end of the dock.