A Match Made in Mystery
Attorney Brady Stewart knows he’s in for a wild ride when psychic matchmaker Armani Vasquez tasks him with finding a Purple People Eater.
His life becomes even more complicated when he meets Amy Winn, a woman crazy enough to take on a would-be mugger, and desperate enough to come looking for a mysterious inheritance.
As Brady and Amy attempt to unravel the mystery behind the puzzling legacy, they can’t deny their mutual attraction despite the fact they live in different worlds.
Difficult choices put their budding romance at risk as they juggle Amy’s desire to unlock the secrets of a father she never knew and Brady’s need to tread carefully in order to protect his career.
Can they solve a mystery twenty years in the making? Or will doing so ruin any chance at a future together?
Excerpt
Prologue
“I need to talk to you.”
Brady barely heard the woman over the music being spun by the wedding DJ. He bent closer to the vivacious Latina. “Sorry, didn’t quite catch that.”
“I said I need to talk to you. It’s important.”
Although they’d never spoken, Brady knew who the woman was. Everyone attending the wedding knew she was Armani Vasquez, the matchmaker who’d put his friend Tom together with his new bride, Jane.
As a rule, Brady scoffed at the idea of a matchmaker, but even he had to admit that Tom and Jane were a perfect match. He’d never seen his friend so happy.
“It’s important,” Armani told him. “Life-changing important.”
“Okay, just let me get this drink and then we’ll find a place to talk.” Glancing down at her near-empty glass, he asked, “Can I get you a refill?”
She flashed him a beguiling smile. “Margarita on the rocks, por favor.”
“My drink of choice, too.”
“What can I get ya, buddy?” the bartender asked as Brady stepped up to the bar.
“Two margaritas on the rocks and one pink lady. Can you make that?”
Brady was pretty sure the guy smirked, but he nodded.
“Are you a believer?” Armani asked Brady as the bartender busied himself with creating their libations.
“A believer?”
“In my gift.” There was a challenge gleaming in the eye of the dark-haired beauty.
Brady waved a hand to encompass the entire room before focusing on the bride and groom, who were posing for pictures with their dog, Calamity. “Hard to say you don’t believe with all this happening.”
Armani eyed him shrewdly. “A good argument, counselor.”
He nodded his agreement.
“The lady’s drink,” the bartender announced.
“What makes you think I’m a lady?” Armani asked him with a saucy wink.
The bartender’s mouth dropped open.
Brady moved to pass Armani her beverage, forgetting the beautiful woman only had the use of one of her hands; the other, according to what Tom had told him, had been injured, along with one of her legs, in a Zamboni accident.
She held up her empty glass, indicating she couldn’t take the full one.
“May I?” Mauricio, another friend of Tom’s, sidled up to them, smoothly plucking the glass from Armani’s grip.
“Thank you.” Armani batted her eyelashes at him gratefully while taking the margarita from Brady.
“Always my pleasure to assist a beautiful woman.” Mauricio made a slight bow toward her.
She grinned her pleasure.
Brady picked up his margarita and a frothy pink concoction in a tall glass from the bar.
“Don’t let the pink one go to your head, buddy,” Mauricio teased, nodding at the umbrella-laden, frothy pink drink Brady held before strolling off.
Brady rolled his eyes. “Ha ha.”
“Is he single?” Armani asked as soon as Mauricio was out of earshot.
Brady watched his friend get swallowed up by the undulating crowd on the dance floor. “Widowed. But trust me, he’s not looking for love.”
Armani stared at the spot where Mauricio had disappeared. “Looking and finding aren’t always the same thing.” She eyed the pink lady distastefully before raising her glass to toast. “To a purple people eater.”
Brady stared at her. He’d heard she was eccentric.
She clinked her glass against the pink one he held. “To a purple people eater.” She sipped from her margarita. “Drink up.”
“It’s not my drink.”
She chuckled. “Well, that’s a relief.” She clinked against his margarita.
“It’s my date’s and I really should get it to her.”
She scowled. “Trust me, a woman who drinks whatever that is,” she wrinkled her nose in distaste, “is not the woman for you.” She leaned closer to whisper conspiratorially. “I know these things.”
Deciding it was best to play along with the slightly wacky woman, Brady agreed, “So I’ve heard.”
Armani flashed a self-satisfied grin. “My reputation precedes me.”
“So what’s this important thing you need to tell me?”
“I already did.”
Brady blinked. He considered himself to be a reasonably intelligent man, but he was struggling to follow this conversation despite that fact he’d only had one beer.
“Purple people eater.”
“What does that mean?”
“You have to find someone who can give you one.”
“What is it?”
Armani shrugged. “How should I know?’
Brady stared at her, totally confused.
“Keep asking and you shall receive,” Armani intoned. With that, she limp-shimmied into the crowd of dancers, leaving Brady holding a pink lady and wondering what the hell had just happened.