Valentine's Dream: Love Changes EverythingSweet SensationMade in Heaven

by Sandra Kitt

  For the past twelve years, ever since he opened the first A Match Made in Heaven office, he’d been nonstop focused on his company and the goals he’d set for himself after graduating from college. He’d built the matchmaking agency from a room with a fax machine and an extra telephone line in his apartment to five independent sites across Virginia.

  And Netanya had been by his side through most of it. She’d come on board in the second year and brought fresh ideas and a feminine perspective to the agency. Together they’d made a lot of money and put together a lot of happy couples. He and Netanya, as special guests, had attended more weddings than he could remember. And according to the letters and photographs from clients and former clients, there were several little children named either Eric or Netanya, in honor of the people who brought their parents together.

  It was Valentine season, one of the busiest and most profitable times of the year for A Match Made in Heaven. Business was booming at all five locations, but particularly in the headquarters site here in Newport News and in Alexandria. Opening the Alexandria office in northern Virginia had been a stroke of genius, Eric thought. With all the metropolitan Washington, D.C., area to pull from, A Match Made in Heaven was so successful there that he and Netanya had been considering moving the headquarters to Alexandria.

  But Newport News was home. And life was perfect.

  Eric dropped his legs and stood up. Shrugging out of the pinstripe suit jacket, he loosened his tie.

  “So why does it feel like something’s missing?” he asked his empty office.

  Since no answer was forthcoming, Eric glanced at his watch. Netanya was filling in today, doing interviews. Mrs. Randall was back, according to the staff. The spritely old lady had been a client practically since Eric had opened the doors. With Mrs. Randall’s track record of either burying or divorcing husbands she found through A Match Made in Heaven, Eric wasn’t sure if she should be counted as a success story or a dismal failure on the agency’s part. He smiled. At least Mrs. Randall was happy, he surmised.

  “Too bad you can’t say the same thing for yourself.”

  Wondering where that thought had come from, Eric sat down again and turned his attention back to the computer monitor and the end-of-week reports filed from his office managers at the sites across the state.

  * * *

  Netanya finished up with Mrs. Randall and assured the woman that the agency had a large pool of men who would be interested in an older woman. After the experience with Wade, Mrs. Randall had decided she was interested only in men who were in their sixties. “Or younger,” the charming widow had emphatically stated.

  She saw Mrs. Randall to the studio where she would make a video and audio introduction to prospective dates. Then Netanya returned to the reception area.

  These days, the only contact she and Eric had with clients was during exceptionally busy periods or when a long-time patron like Mrs. Randall came in to the office. Netanya greeted a few people who were filling out their questionnaires, then watched as the three attractive women, obviously a group of friends, followed one of the counselors into an interview room.

  The women, particularly the one who had been chatting with Mrs. Randall, intrigued Netanya. Mentally she began to flip through the files of eligible men she knew who might be suitable for the woman. Her bright smile, pretty brown complexion, and rounded figure were physical pluses. A match was already coming to mind. But she’d have to know more about the woman than what she looked like.

  “I’ll be in with Shelia,” Netanya told the receptionist. Then she made her way across the reception area and knocked on the door before slipping into the interview room.

  When the door opened, Val paused after introducing herself to the counselor. In walked the pink-and-white cloud. The woman was petite and feminine with delicate features. The pastel pink blouse with ruffles at the bodice and sleeves and the form-fitting skirt gave the woman an angelic look. She was the kind of woman men like Conroy T. Franklin tripped over themselves to get to.

  “Oh, hi!” the counselor said. Then, turning to the group of three, “I’d like to introduce you to Netanya Gardner. She’s co-owner of A Match Made in Heaven and is one of the best in the business.”

  “Hello,” Netanya said, coming forward to greet each woman. “I’m so very glad you chose A Match Made in Heaven.”

  “I’m Shelley Ward and this is Kalinda Michaels,” Shelley said.

  “Hi, I’m Val Sanders,” Val said, stepping forward and shaking Netanya’s hand.

  “Hello there. You were chatting with Mrs. Randall in the lobby. It’s a pleasure to meet you. Is Val short for something?”

  Val couldn’t hide the slight grimace. But before she could speak up, Shelly cut in.

  “Her name is Valentine. And coming here to find a love match is our birthday present to Val. She’ll be thirty on Valentine’s Day. Frankly, we are all fed up to here,” she said, indicating her forehead, “with shallow, egotistical mama’s boys. We three are looking for real men, men who know how to treat a lady.” The swing of her head sent Shelley’s long braids flying.

  “Please, call me Val,” Val told Netanya.

  “Well, happy birthday a few days in advance. I hope we can make this a very special Valentine’s Day for you. Why don’t you all have a seat and Shelia will tell you a little about A Match Made in Heaven,” Netanya said.

  The dynamics of this group was interesting, Netanya thought as she studied the three while Shelia gave the introduction to the dating service. If first impressions were important, and Netanya knew they were, Shelley was the dynamo, in-your-face one, and Val, who obviously had a hangup either about her name or about turning thirty, was the conservative one. Netanya hadn’t missed the small shudder and the grimace Val tried to conceal at Shelley’s introduction of her. Kalinda, who had yet to say anything, was possibly the shy one in the group. But Netanya wanted to know more about Val.

  Val listened to Shelia explain about databases and compatibility, about expanding one’s horizons and meeting the challenges and expectations of the dating scene. She shook her head. Once Shelley got on a roll, there was no stopping her. This Netanya woman, the pink-and-white cloud, probably thought she was some desperate type, eager to get a man. That wasn’t the case at all. Val had plenty of dates. The problem was in the quality of the men.

  “We at A Match Made in Heaven cannot guarantee that you’ll meet the partner of your dreams,” the counselor said, “but we do guarantee that you will be introduced to a significant number of people who meet the qualifications you have, and, more important, people who will expand your social contacts. If, in the process, you meet your match made in heaven, we all win. You will have entered a terrific relationship and maybe, just maybe,” she said, smiling, “we’ll get to add you and your match to our display of Heavenly Couple Nuptials.”

  Kalinda laughed at the name. “What does that mean?”

  The counselor indicated the back wall in the small room. “Heavenly Couple Nuptials are the weddings of our clients. Many people meet their lifemates through our introductions.”

  Val glanced at the photographs of smiling couples, then crossed her legs and sat back in her chair. “And how many of your couples actually stay together after these hasty introductions and nuptials?”

  Netanya fielded the question. “Well, Val, like any marriage, whether the partners meet through a dating service, a personal ad, through friends, or by accident, each person has to work on the relationship. Relationships don’t just happen. Some of our clients are repeat clients. Not everyone who comes through our doors is looking for a life partner. Some people just want to meet new people, to expand their social network.”

  “You haven’t answered my question,” Val pointed out. “What’s the divorce rate among your clients?”

  “I don’t have exact figures, but I don’t believe the rate is any greater than those who meet without the assistance of a service like this one.”

  Val didn’t look convinced
. “All day long I listen to couples who were once so in love, scream at each other and divvy up their personal property as if each china plate and copper pot were the crown jewels.”

  “You’re a divorce attorney?” Netanya asked.

  “No,” Shelley piped up. “She’s a court reporter who has had the unfortunate assignment of being sent to divorce court. She listens to all this poison every day and then transfers all that negativity to her own relationships. Everybody is not like the couples you meet in court, Val.”

  “Thank you for that analysis, Dr. Ward,” Val said. “If I recall correctly, you have a Ph.D. in political science, not in psychoanalysis.”

  Shelley and Kalinda laughed at Val’s tone.

  “Don’t mind Val,” Kalinda said. “She had a bad date last night, plus she gets weird like this around her birthday every year. We’re used to it.”

  “I do not get weird. And some friends you two are.”

  Netanya decided it was time to separate the women. Sometimes a group of friends meeting together worked. Other times it didn’t serve any of the prospective clients very well. This looked like it was shaping up to be one of those times. “What we’ll do now is tell each of you how the process works and then you can take a tour of the facility. Shelia, if you would get Marie to work with Kalinda. Val, you can stay here with me. Shelley can go with you, Shelia.”

  When the room was cleared, Netanya began again with Val.

  “Tell me why you’re here.”

  “I’m here under duress, Ms. Gardner. Look, I’ll be totally honest with you. This was not my idea. This is Shell and Kalinda’s birthday present to me. We went to lunch this afternoon and they sprang this matchmaking thing on me. I’m here to humor them. I’m not looking for a partner, a relationship or a match made in heaven. As a matter of fact, I decided just last night that being single has its merits.”

  Val got up and walked to the wall of wedding and couple photographs. “I don’t believe in love at first sight. And I definitely don’t believe that all these people met here and then lived happily ever after.”

  Netanya watched the woman named Val. She was tall, full-figured, articulate and pretty. She was a young black professional woman—a highly sought after commodity with a great deal of the agency’s male clients. Without consulting a single computer file, Netanya knew there was a long list of men who would jump at the chance to go out with Val. But Netanya had one man in mind.

  “As I said before, not every person is looking for happily-ever-after. Some people just want happily-ever-now.”

  Val smiled, then walked back to her seat. “Now you’re talking my language. Romance is a farce, but having fun, now, that’s something that I like.”

  “What do you like to do?”

  Val settled in her chair and crossed her legs. “Do you mean like on a date?”

  “Not necessarily. Just in general,” Netanya clarified.

  “I love to garden. I’ve converted a section in my condo to something of an indoor garden and hothouse. I like to do volunteer work. I tutor children on Wednesdays and Saturdays in connection with a youth program and recreation center here in Newport News, and I love the water.”

  Netanya grinned. “So do I. I like to just soak up the sun. Are you a sunbathing-on-the-beach type, or are you into water sports?”

  “Both. I can’t wait for it to warm up enough to get back on the beaches.”

  “Val, let me tell you how we operate here at A Match Made in Heaven. If you decide that it’s something you’d rather not participate in, I’ll be happy to redeem your gift certificate.”

  Val nodded.

  “We provide a number of introduction services. You can write what we call a quick sketch letter of introduction that along with your photograph is published in our monthly newsletter. That newsletter is distributed to clients at our five offices across the state.”

  “Where are your other offices?”

  “Richmond, Roanoke, Virginia Beach and Alexandria,” Netanya answered. “Another way we have people from across the state communicate is online. You choose who you’d like to contact. We also have video and audio introductions. Why don’t I show you our studios now? And I’ll get a copy of the newsletter to you.”

  * * *

  Later that evening, as she dressed for an event she was attending, Val thought about Netanya Gardner and A Match Made in Heaven. Val, Shelley and Kalinda had all ended up doing video introductions. Kalinda had also opted for the newsletter photograph. An on-site makeup artist had calmed Shelley’s fears about shiny skin on the video.

  Val shook her head. “You know this is crazy,” she told her reflection. Then, deciding as long as Conroy Franklin wasn’t in the agency’s database of bachelors, maybe it might be fun. Netanya Gardner was right. There was no law that said you had to marry the people you were introduced to. Just have some fun. Looking at it that way didn’t seem quite so unpalatable. And the Gardner woman got credit: She never made a single comment or joke about Val and Valentine’s Day.

  Val applied a touch of mascara to her eyelashes, then got her coat and headed to the community center for the reception.

  The first person her gaze landed on as she did a quick scan of the room was Netanya Gardner. The matchmaker had traded her pink-and-white ruffles for a matching pale pink blazer and tank dress. In the dead of winter, the pink should have looked ridiculous. Not on Netanya. She carried it off very well. And the tall, brown-skinned man standing next to her seemed quite appreciative as he gazed down at the petite woman.

  Two things immediately struck Val about the man: his thick eyebrows and his hands. She wondered what it would feel like to smooth those eyebrows. And those hands. One was wrapped around the drink glass he casually held. He had strong, big hands, the kind that molded and shaped a woman’s body as they stroked and stoked physical fires. With a skill born from years of the subtle once-over, Val took in the rest of him. He had a lean but athletic build. About six feet tall, she guessed, maybe six-one.

  The banded collar of the white linen shirt he wore buttoned to his neck precluded the necessity of a tie. Val liked the casual, elegant look. As a matter of fact, she had to admit, she liked the whole package. A lot. This brother was together.

  Her gaze was drawn again to those hands. She wished she could see his fingers. Over time, Val had come to the belief that the width, length and form of a man’s fingers was in direct proportion to...

  “Val! How nice to see you here,” Netanya said. The cheery woman touched the man’s sleeve, and the two advanced the few steps needed to reach Val.

  As she watched them approach, Val’s gaze slowly traveled up the man’s tall form until she met his own laughing eyes. He knew she’d been checking him out! Val flushed, then blushed.

  Then she extended a hand to Netanya. “Hi, there. Long time no see,” she kidded.

  Instead of shaking her hand, Netanya pulled Val to her for a quick hug, as if the women were friends who hadn’t seen each other in a while.

  Netanya then turned to the man. “Val, I’d like you to meet Eric Fitzgerald. Eric and I are partners at A Match Made in Heaven. Eric, this is Val Sanders. She lives in the city.”

  Val extended one trembling hand to Eric. What was it about this man that made her so restless? For goodness’ sake, she thought, he’s not the most handsome man you’ve ever met. He was okay: nice build, nice hands. Then he smiled at her and Val was lost. That dazzling, perfect, fun-filled smile made her knees weak and her heart race.

  “Hello,” she got out, pleased that her vocal cords still worked. “How do you do?”

  “How do you do?” he said, taking her hand.

  But it wasn’t a greeting, it was a caress. He held her hand far too long, then let his fingers trail over her palm as he released her.

  Off in a distance somewhere, Val was aware that Netanya was talking, but she was one hundred percent focused on this man, this Eric Fitzgerald, who with a smile and a handshake had her wondering things that she shouldn�
��t be wondering about a stranger. Like how those fingers would feel in her hair, on her breasts. And what he would feel like all over her.

  Eric was enchanted. He was also quickly becoming aroused. It had been a while since a woman had given him such a deliciously thorough once-over. If the pretty color in her cheeks was any indication, she was embarrassed at having been caught at it. Eric smiled. The one thing he liked above all else was a substantial woman. This one had curves in all the right places. And she was incredibly beautiful.

  Her skin was clear, the color of sweet toffee. Her curly hair was pinned up in the back. Eric wondered how long it fell when it was down. Would her hair be as soft as her skin looked?

  The button-pearl earrings at her ears matched the buttons on the suit she wore. Eric let his gaze, as bold as hers had been, wander down the rest of her. The skirt stopped a couple of inches above her knees. Eric took a deep breath. He was a leg man, and this woman got a perfect score in that department. They went on forever. He wondered if she preferred stockings over pantyhose. He definitely had a preference. He smiled at the thought.

  “Any friend of Netanya’s is a friend of mine,” he said.

  Val swallowed. “Do you two volunteer here at the center?”

  “I do,” Netanya answered. “I’ve been working with the children for about three months now.” With a playful elbow in his side, she nudged Eric. “I’ve been trying to get Eric here to volunteer some of his time. The young ones need positive male role models, particularly the boys.”

  “Are you a volunteer?” he asked Val.

  “Yes,” she said, wondering where the slightly breathless tone had come from. Get yourself together, Valentine, she scolded herself. “I work with the kids on Wednesday afternoons and Saturday mornings. I’ve been coming here for a couple of years.”

  “Netanya, you’ve finally convinced me,” Eric said. But with eyes only for Val, he added, “I think I’ll sign up for Wednesday afternoons and Saturday mornings.”