I cut my errands short and shoved half a burrito down my throat while driving back to the bookstore. I was trying to beat Raven here, but as I pull into the lot and see the sleek convertible parked among the mini vans and family sedans that I'm used to seeing when the book club ladies are meeting, I'm pretty sure I didn't make it.

Since there's no one that I'm close enough to to trust with a decision like picking a husband for me, Raven is handling my match herself. I'm still not sure why she agreed to bend her rules to help me out but I'm grateful to her for giving me the benefit of the doubt.

Not having a team of my own personal friends and family has meant a lot more interaction with Raven and her assistant, Jessica, than they tell me their regular clients have. For the most part, I haven't minded a bit but today, Raven flew all the way out here to meet with me in person and since I got back to the store late it looks like she's in there by herself-- at the mercy of the book club ladies and my hopeless romantic assistant.

Oh God, I hope Raven doesn't tell them who she is or why she's here.

Rushing in through the back entrance, I toss the trash from my lunch into the waste bin, drop the mail I needed to pick up from the post office box on the counter, and hastily dab at the spot where I dribbled grease onto my blouse.

Naturally, it's a losing battle. That's what I get for having boobs, they catch everything.

With an equally ill-fated attempt to finger-comb my hair all I manage to do is get my bangs wet, making me look like a little like I just woke up.

Great, I think as I catch my reflection in the mirror, instead of looking like a put-together-but-slightly-frazzled business owner, I just managed to make myself look like a disoriented mental patient. I'm sure Raven is going to take one look at me in our first in-person meeting, come to her senses, and tell me she's had second thoughts about taking my case.

My hand is on the doorknob, ready to make my entrance as confidently as I possibly can, when I hear several female voices break into laughter from the general vicinity of the front register.

It's easy to recognize Elizabeth's high pitched, old-lady cackle above Bethany's self-conscious giggle. I also recognize Letty's belly laugh and Alice's unabashed chortle-- those are just the voices I know but it sounds like quite the turn out for the book club meeting this afternoon and I wonder just what could be so entertaining that has them all congregated at the front desk.

Instead of making the grand entrance I'd been prepared for, I push the door open by just a few inches and take stock of the situation.

Raven Swann is an unmistakable presence commanding the attention of what I can only estimate is the biggest book club turn out the ladies have ever seen. There must be 20 women gathered around the woman standing at the register with Bethany.

In person, Raven's taller than I expected and absolutely stunning.

Sure, her photos on her website show her dressed up and looking flawless, but for our video calls, she's always been casual. She's just wearing jeans and a t-shirt but standing in my little book store right now, she looks like a model.

For starters, she towers over most of the older women by nearly a full head. She might be wearing heels, I can't tell from where I'm hiding behind the door of the break room, but her posture is also perfect.

Her hair is long and straight and lays perfectly down her back in exactly the way mine refuses to do no matter how much straightening I put it through. When she leans down to listen carefully to something one of the older women from the book club is telling her, it falls forward over her shoulder and shows a fiery auburn in the store's overhead lighting.

"OH EM GEE!" Bethany's exuberant squeal breaks through the hush that had fallen over the gathering and breaks me out of my thoughts, "That's right! She totally turned me on to her too!"

Beth grabs her e-reader, taps at the screen a few times and shoves it toward Raven.

"She loves this stuff," I hear Beth gushing.

Raven already looked like she was enjoying the conversation but when she takes the reader from Bethany and skims through a few passages of what ever's on the screen, her face lights up in a smile that can only be described as triumphant.

I wonder what book Beth showed her.

Suddenly several of the book club ladies pull their phones or e-readers out of their purses and the store's main room fills with indistinct chatter as they all try to talk at once.

Raven takes her time looking at each screen that gets held up for her inspection, nodding like she's putting together clues in a mystery and just then I push the door open a little farther and the hinges creak loudly.

There's no more hiding. Every head in the shop turns to look at me and Raven looks up at me with a smile that makes me feel naked. Like she's looking beyond my tangled hair and stained blouse at something inside me that I'm not sure I want anyone to see.

I'm not sure what that could be, but my instinct is to hide it. Of course, it's too late. Whatever it is, the woman I've hired to find me a husband has already seen it.

* * *

"They're all very fond of you," Raven says as she takes a seat in my office.

I don't really use my office for meetings or anything. I have a desk with my computer set up for keeping the books and making orders, but mostly the little room is an oasis. Just a little place where I can have a minute to myself when I get the chance.

Raven chooses the chair with the bright yellow upholstery by the window. I found that chair at a garage sale and couldn't resist the happy color. It's perfect right next to the west-facing window in my office, right beside the little window-sill herb garden that I was surprised did so well this summer.

"How long has Bethany known you?" Raven asks casually as she crosses one long leg over the other, the fabric of her skirt making a soft sound as she moves.

"Bethany?" I feel like a total clod compared to the polished woman sitting across from me. I try to shadow her, leaning back in my own chair-- the one with the purple velvet that looks like it came from a whorehouse but feels so decadently extravagant I can't help but favor it-- I cross my legs the way Raven has hers but instead of feeling sophisticated, I feel like it makes my thighs spread against each other unattractively.

I uncross my legs and sit up straight, as if my 5 foot 3 inches has any hope of achieving Raven's regal posture.

Giving up any further attempts at making a good impression, I fall back in the chair and sip my diet soda from the Styrofoam cup.

"Beth's been coming to the store since she was about 8, I guess," I tell Raven with an absent-minded shrug, "she kinda grew up in here."

"Why didn't you consider her for your team?" Raven wonders aloud.

She's making notes on her phone with a stylus, not looking up at me as she asks so I'm not sure I'm really supposed to answer or not until she looks up with one eyebrow raised.

"Oh, well she's only 17," I jump in, "and since she's not a blood relative, I guess I sort of figured she...didn't qualify?"

I watch Raven's lips purse in a small frown as she scribbles something down. She nods and once again, I'm fascinated by the color of her hair as the afternoon sun hits it through the window behind her. It's such a unique shade of red and it seems both incongruous with her olive skin and perfectly suited to it at the same time.

"That makes sense," she finally says, "and what about the other ladies? You don't think any of your customers would be suitable to help with the process?"

I must look as horrified as I feel because Raven's expression goes from genuinely curious to mildly amused to sincerely apologetic in a flash.

"Oh Tiffany, I'm sorry," she rushes to tell me, leaning forward to pat my knee reassuringly, "I promise our business is strictly confidential. I didn't tell anyone who I am or why I'm here today. I understand that what I do is controversial and each of my clients' reasons for hiring me is extremely personal, I keep all my business strictly confidential."

It's nothing I didn't already know. Raven's privacy policy was one of the reasons I felt secure in retaining her services to begin with. I nod in understanding and she tentatively takes her hand off my knee and sits back in her chair again.

"It's just that you obviously have a very strong connection with your customers and several of them seem to go back quite some time with you," she says.

I can't help but laugh a little as I agree, thinking about some of the women who were gathered out front a few minutes ago.

"Yup," I tell Raven, "I've got some loyal customers. Most of them have been with me since I opened the store."

"And that was...?"

"About 10 years ago now, right before..." I watch Raven's face soften as my voice drifts off. It was right before Paul died. Right before our wedding, actually. I remember how he teased me because I was so calm about getting married but I was a nervous wreck about opening the store.

"He used to joke that I was marrying the book store, not him," I tell her.

Of course I've already told her my whole life story. She knows about Paul-- my husband. My late husband.

It's funny how it can seem so far away and yet so much like it was just yesterday, how I can still feel so much love for him and yet feel like he's so far behind me at the same time.

Raven nods when I share my thoughts. "I've worked with a lot of widows," she tells me. "What you're saying is very common."

She jots down a few more notes.

"I think I have everything I need," she finally tells me after a minute. "I'm really glad I had a chance to meet Bethany and the book club girls," she says with a chuckle as she gets to her feet, "they were a lot of fun and they absolutely adore you, you know."

"A little too much for my tastes sometimes," I say as I jump up from my chair to walk her out. "Are you sure you don't have any more questions? Do you need to know what kind of man I'm looking for? Did you want me to give a list of qualities I'd like?"

Raven stops before opening the door and when she looks at me she's obviously trying not to laugh as she shakes her head, "I'm sorry, I don't mean to laugh. Tiffany, I'm good at what I do. It might sound arrogant, but I'm confident in my skills as a marriage broker and if there's one thing I can assure you of, it's that what's right for us is never quite what we're looking for."

She pauses a moment and watches my reaction. I hope I don't look too disappointed or insulted, I trust Mrs. Swann, I really do, it's just that...

"I know," she answers like she can read my thoughts, "I had a list too." With that statement she gives me a knowing smirk and opens the office door. Before she turns back to me, she checks the hall to make sure no one overhears her as she turns back to me, "I'll find your next love, Mrs. Rowe, you can count on it," she says quietly.

My next love?

Her words catch me off guard and render me speechless long enough that by the time I catch up to her out front as she says good bye to Beth, it's too late to correct her. All I can do is walk her to the door and shake her hand before she climbs into the fancy convertible rental car and waves good bye to me as she pulls out of the parking lot.

I'll have to email her later and remind her that I'm not looking to fall in love again. Been there, done that. All I need is a solid partner, not another happily ever after.