The Perfect Christmas

  “Dr. Dodson will see you now,” Ms. Snelling said in the same crisp tone she’d used on Cassie’s first visit.

  Cassie bounded up from the chair as though she’d been ejected. Despite her eagerness, she tried to move slowly and calmly. When she entered his office, she found Simon sitting at his desk.

  Without looking up, he gestured for her to sit, too.

  Cassie did, perching on the very edge. She didn’t expect an apology for being kept waiting and wasn’t disappointed. When Simon eventually looked up, she noticed streaks of gray in his hair that had escaped her notice previously.

  “What are your plans for Christmas?” he asked.

  Of all the things Cassie had expected him to say, this wasn’t it. “Ah…I’m not sure yet.”

  “Family plans?”

  “Not really.” She hadn’t talked to her brother yet. Her mother and stepfather lived in Hawaii and it was unlikely that they’d fly in for the holidays. Her father…well, she hadn’t spent Christmas with him since she was five or six. “There’s just Shawn and me.”

  “And Shawn is?”

  “My brother. It’s on the questionnaire. He’s—”

  “Ah, yes,” Simon broke in. “What did you do last Christmas?”

  “Well, let me see…” She tried to remember where she’d been and with whom. Was it last year that Angie—

  “This shouldn’t be so difficult,” he said.

  “It was eleven months ago,” she snapped. His attitude irritated her. “As I recall, Shawn and I went out to eat. Angie, a friend of mine, was supposed to join us but at the last minute she couldn’t and we—”

  “Yes, yes,” he said, interrupting her again.

  “And what exactly were you doing?” she demanded.

  His eyes widened. “I beg your pardon?”

  “Where were you last Christmas?”

  “As I indicated during our previous session, I’m the one asking the questions.”

  Cassie made an effort to hold her temper. “I guess that slipped my mind. But I was allowed one question then, so I assume that’s the case today, and I’m asking it now.” She took a deep—and necessary—breath. “Where were you last Christmas?”

  He exhaled slowly. “Right here in Seattle.”

  “With friends and loved ones?”

  “That’s more than one question.” He looked pointedly in her direction. “Shall we continue or not? The choice is yours.”

  Knowing she was fighting a losing battle, Cassie tried to regain her equilibrium. “Yes, let’s continue, although I don’t understand what last Christmas has to do with anything.”

  “That’s not your concern.”

  “Are you always this dictatorial?” She realized she was asking yet another question, but she couldn’t stop herself.

  “I am when I feel I can find the right match for a client. An exasperating one, I might add.”

  “Really?” That was worth all the insults he could issue, Cassie decided. She slid so far to the edge of the chair that she was in danger of falling onto the carpet. “You actually have someone in mind?”

  “I do.” This was said in a clipped, businesslike way.

  She waited, but he wasn’t any more forthcoming than that.

  “Before I introduce you, there are a few matters we need to attend to.”

  “Fine.” Her heart felt as if it had moved into her throat.

  “My fee is thirty thousand dollars.”

  “Yes, I know… That’s a lot of money.”

  Simon glanced up. “I thought you were aware of my fee. If you can’t afford me, then I suggest you leave now and save us both a lot of time and trouble.”

  The money was safely tucked in Cassie’s savings account. “I put it aside for a wedding, but obviously there won’t be one without a groom. I’m willing to make the investment.”

  “Good. Then I’ll introduce you to John.”

  “His name is John?” John was a solid name, implying that he was a solid man; she liked him already.

  “Before I introduce you—”

  “There’s a money-back guarantee, right?”

  “I’ll explain that in a moment.”

  “Okay, sorry, I didn’t mean to interrupt.” She wanted to capture every single detail of this meeting so she could repeat it all to Angie.

  “I have three tasks I want you to complete first.”

  “Excuse me?” She wondered if she’d misheard him. Cassie was waiting to hear about her perfect mate, and he was talking about tasks? What was this, homework?

  “These are qualifying tasks,” he was saying. “I need to be sure you’re the woman for John.”

  “But…no one said anything about needing to qualify.”

  He ignored her outburst. “Once you’ve fulfilled these three simple tasks, I will introduce you to John. The choice is easy—do what I ask and meet the man of your dreams or keep your money and walk away now.” He sat back in his chair and clasped his hands, clearly regarding this as a take-it-or-leave-it proposition.

  Cassie’s head reeled. “Do you ask this of all your clients?” she cried, almost positive he didn’t. Her nerves were quickly fraying.

  “How often do I need to tell you? I’m not in the habit of answering questions.” He paused and looked her straight in the eye. “However, I’ll admit that I don’t ask this of every client. Only certain ones.”

  “What made me so lucky?”

  “Your motives. You expect to find the perfect husband, the perfect marriage and the perfect Christmas, correct?”

  She remembered having said as much. She nodded.

  “You’re asking for the impossible.”

  “But…isn’t that what you promised?”

  “No. If you’ll examine my Web site, you’ll see that I promise the right mate. The most suitable spouse. But that’s just the beginning. A happy marriage is about much more than the appearance of perfection.”

  Others had found true love. Jill and Tom had, so why couldn’t she? “I can dream, can’t I?” she muttered.

  “Yes, you can dream as long as your dreams are rooted in reality.”

  “And you consider it your duty to drag me out of my happy fantasy and into the real world,” she said sarcastically.

  “What I consider my duty is to match you up with someone who’ll spend the rest of his life thinking he’s the most fortunate man alive to be with you.”

  “Oh.” She swallowed tightly.

  “Do you accept the three tasks or not?”

  She hesitated. She needed more information before she agreed to anything. “What are they?”

  “I’m not asking you to swim in shark-infested waters, if that’s what you’re worried about. It’s nothing life-threatening.”

  “I won’t have to eat anything disgusting, will I?”

  He cringed. “Good grief, no. As I said, these are simple, ordinary tasks. It sounds as if you’ve been watching too much reality television.”

  “Actually, I don’t. My friend Angie watches that stuff and then tells me about it the next day.”

  He ignored her explanation and reached for a slip of paper on his desk. “Here’s your first task. I need you to volunteer for a four-hour shift as a bell ringer in front of the Southcenter Mall near Kent. Do you know it?”

  “I know every mall within a two-hundred-mile radius of Seattle.”

  “I have no doubt of that.”

  Really, how difficult could a four-hour shift be? “Sure, that won’t be a problem.”

  “It’s the weekend after Thanksgiving.”

  “Great. The mall will be hopping.”

  “There’s a quota the charity expects you to make, but I don’t think you’ll have any trouble with that.”

  “Okay. What’s the second task?” The first one didn’t seem too hard; the next one was probably along similar lines.

  “You said on the application form that you’re interested in a man who wants children.”

  “I am.”

  ??
?Good. I’m going to give you the opportunity to spend an entire afternoon with the little darlings. You’ll be one of Santa’s elves for a picture-taking session at the Tacoma Mall.”

  “An elf?”

  “There’s a costume. I apologize, but it’s one of the requirements.”

  “Okay, fine, I can be an elf.” She didn’t like the idea of wearing some silly outfit with tights and pointed shoes but she could cope. “And the final task?”

  He reached for another slip of paper. “I also saw on your application that you enjoy cooking.”

  “I do.” And she was pretty good at it if she did say so herself.

  “Excellent. For your third task, I want you to cook Christmas dinner. Turkey, stuffing, mashed potatoes with gravy, salad, vegetables…that sort of thing. Oh, and two different kinds of homemade pie.”

  “And who’s going to be eating this huge meal?”

  “Your neighbors.”

  “Ah.” She raised her index finger in protest. “I don’t have the friendliest neighbors…?.”

  “Invite them, anyway.”

  “And who’s going to check up to see if I’ve completed these tasks?” she asked. She suspected Simon hadn’t thought this completely through.

  “I’ll be checking in on you during the first two tasks.”

  “You might as well come to Christmas dinner, then. Can I invite my brother and best friend, too?”

  “Of course,” he said, but he didn’t respond to her admittedly reluctant invitation.

  “Can they bring a contribution?” She was thinking Shawn could scrounge up a cooked turkey somewhere and even Angie could manage stuffing out of a box.

  “No, you will be providing the entire meal.”

  Cassie was afraid of that.

  “Now that you know the tasks, do you feel you can handle them?”

  “I guess so—but what exactly is the point?”

  He smiled—a glimmer of a smile. “Each task will tell me something about you. Something important. However, you don’t seem very confident. Can you or can’t you? A yes or no will suffice.”

  Lifting her hand to her brow she saluted him smartly. “Aye, aye, sir.”

  Her gesture failed to amuse him, but he did relax somewhat. “Now that we’ve squared away that portion of our discussion, it’s time to finalize the paperwork.”

  “All right. Oh—do I get to ask three things of you—small, easy-to-perform tasks?”

  He sent her a withering look.

  “Obviously I don’t,” she said under her breath.

  “Let’s make this clear,” he said with exaggerated patience. “You’re the one who sought me out. You came to me because of your desire for a husband and a family. I don’t advertise. I didn’t ask you to step into this office. You came of your own free will.”

  “I did,” she concurred.

  “Then we play this by my rules.”

  She resisted rolling her eyes for fear he’d demand she leave. “Rules,” she repeated softly. “Is this a game to you?”

  “No, this is life, yours and John’s. He’s a good man who wants the same things you do.”

  “Okay, I accept your rules.”

  “Thank you.”

  “Can I at least see his photograph?”

  “No. You will meet when it’s time. There will be no information exchanged before that official meeting.”

  Cassie didn’t like it, but she didn’t have any alternative. She nodded.

  Simon opened a side drawer and withdrew a contract. “I advise you to have your attorney look this over before you sign it. This is a standard contract, stating what you can expect for your thirty thousand dollars.”

  “What if John and I don’t gel? If we aren’t a good fit?”

  “That occasionally happens and it’s a fair question. Your money will be refunded to both of you in full.”

  “In that case, will you introduce me to another potential mate?”

  “No.”

  “No. No?”

  “This is a one-shot deal.”

  “One-shot?” That sounded risky.

  “If I offered choices, my clients would be wondering who else might be available. When I pick a mate for you, it’s the best match I can find, someone I believe will complement your strengths, share your values and fulfill your desires—within reasonable parameters.”

  “And your success rate is?”

  “High. I don’t accept a client unless I’m confident I have the right person for him or her. It’s as simple as that.”

  Cassie stared down at the contract. She’d feel better if she liked Simon more. The man was rude, arrogant and short-tempered.

  It was as if he’d read her thoughts. “You don’t need to like me, Cassie,” he said. “In fact, it’s preferable that you don’t.”

  “Really?”

  “Yes, really,” he returned. “The last thing I want or need is for a client to fall in love with me. It only complicates matters, and I don’t like unnecessary complications. Understood?”

  “Now who’s dreaming?”

  A smile came and went. A smile that charmed her despite everything he’d said and done.

  Chapter 5

  Simon says: Maybe money can’t buy love—but it can get you practically everything else.

  On the Saturday morning after Thanksgiving, which she’d spent with Angie and her family, Cassie headed for Southcenter Mall. This was the venue for her first task and she was eager to prove herself to Simon, obviously a curmudgeon. Spending four hours soliciting money for charity couldn’t possibly be that difficult.

  Since she’d be standing outside, Cassie dressed in wool pants and a hand-knit sweater over her long-sleeved blouse. Between the shirt and sweater, she could barely get her arms inside the sleeves of her coat. She added a hat, gloves and a scarf, dressing for the cold. When she met her one true love, she wanted to make sure she didn’t have a runny nose and a sore throat.

  Cassie showed up at the mall at the required time and met the other charity bell ringers. Standing with her colleagues, she glanced around. Some were being paid and frankly she thought they looked kind of shifty. Others, like her, were volunteers.

  “Smile and greet everyone,” the leader instructed. “Be friendly even if someone walks past you.”

  Filled with enthusiasm, Cassie could hardly wait to be assigned her post.

  “Make eye contact” was the second bit of advice. “And ring that bell. Remind shoppers of those less fortunate.”

  “Got it,” Cassie said aloud.

  “This is one of the busiest shopping weekends of the year, so you shouldn’t have any problem making your quota.”

  In the back of her mind, she recalled Simon’s casually mentioning something about collecting a certain dollar amount and the way he’d made light of it. The recommended donation amount turned out to be $60 an hour. That was a dollar a minute! How was she supposed to know how much money she’d collected when the red pot was securely locked? It wasn’t as if she could pry the lid off and count the cash.

  “Are we ready?” their helpful leader called out.

  Cassie’s shout blended in with the others’. “Ready!”

  One by one, they received their assignments. Cassie was told to stand in front of the Target store, which had an outside entrance. With bell in hand, she headed toward her designated post. This wasn’t so bad. Not only was she helping the underprivileged but she was moving toward the man of her dreams.

  She waited eagerly as a couple walked up. Smiling sweetly, she jerked her hand several times in succession, making the bell jangle. “Merry Christmas,” she greeted them.

  The couple avoided eye contact and entered the store via the door farthest from Cassie.

  Their lack of generosity—and appreciation for her efforts—didn’t faze her.

  Not much later, a grandmotherly type approached her. “Do you have change for a five?” the woman asked.

  “Sorry, we can’t make change.”

  “O
h, dear,” she said regretfully, “then perhaps I can give you something on my way out.”

  “Don’t worry,” Cassie said cheerfully, “I’ll be here.”

  In her first thirty minutes, Cassie estimated that she’d collected less than five dollars, which wasn’t even close to her hourly goal. She stomped her feet to ward off the cold. In an effort to liven things up a bit, she attempted to ring the tunes of popular Christmas songs.

  She gave that up during “Frosty the Snowman” when a teenage boy walked past and reached for his cell phone. He said, “Hello. Hello. Hello,” before he realized it was her bell and not his cell. He stopped in front of her and glared.

  “Sorry,” she said, and gasped when the youth shot her the finger.

  “Well, Merry Christmas to you, too.” Of all the nerve!

  After an hour Angie came by and mercifully handed her a cup of steaming hot coffee.

  “God love you,” she said, gratefully accepting it.

  “How’s it going?”

  If it’d been Simon rather than Angie, she would have declared that this was the most wonderful, rewarding experience of her life. With Angie she felt compelled to tell the truth. “I can’t feel my nose.”

  “Can I get you anything else?” her friend asked, her expression concerned.

  “Put some money in the pot. I’m nowhere near my quota.”

  “Oh, sure.” Angie put in a hefty donation.

  “Thank you.”

  “Do you want me to stand in for you? You look like you could use a break.”

  “No way.” Simon Dodson was sure to find out about it and consider her unworthy of John. Cassie wasn’t willing to risk that.

  “You have a donation quota?”

  Cassie nodded. “I bet that guy at the other entrance isn’t having this problem,” she muttered. Her breath made small whiffs of fog. Her nose wasn’t the only body part in danger of frostbite. Even the knit cap wasn’t enough to completely protect her ears. She’d swear those weren’t earrings dangling from her lobes, but tiny icicles.

  “I’ll come and see you again later,” Angie promised.

  “Great, and thanks for the coffee.” Cassie wondered whether anyone would notice if she stuck her nose in the hot liquid.

  Angie disappeared inside the mall and Cassie rang her bell with renewed enthusiasm. It helped to remember that in less than three hours she would have completed one of the tasks that would bring her closer to meeting John.