A Match for Celia

“I see.”

Celia ran a hand through her hair. “I wish I did.”

Frances laughed softly. “Maybe you’re just starting to realize that you aren’t quite ready to tie yourself into a serious relationship, with Damien Alexander or anyone else at the moment. You’re still a young woman, Celia. You have time to ‘shop around’ a bit before you make your selection.”

“This from the woman who’s been reminding me that I’m not getting any younger?” Celia teased. “Aren’t you the one who has told me several times that you were married and had both your children by my age?”

“I just don’t want you to make a decision you might regret,” Frances replied, her own amusement gone. “I want you to have what I had, darling. A man you can love, who will love you in return. A soul mate.”

“And how am I supposed to know when I meet this ‘soul mate’?” Celia asked, as bewildered now as she’d been all morning.

“You just will. It won’t necessarily be instant recognition, or a blinding flash of revelation, but there will come a point when you’ll know. That’s the way it happens in our family.”

“Maybe I’ll be the exception to the family tradition,” Celia said wryly.

“I don’t think so. I think there’s a very special someone waiting for you, my darling. Someone with whom you will be very happy.”

Celia chuckled and shook her head. “You always make me want to believe in impossible things, Granny Fran.”

“‘Why, sometimes I’ve believed as many as six impossible things before breakfast,’” her grandmother quoted, and Celia smiled mistily at the happy memories of sitting at Granny Fran’s knee, listening to her read from Alice’s Adventures in Wonderland.

“I love you, Granny Fran.”

“I love you, too. Do you feel better?”

“Much.” And it was true. Still confused, but better. She glanced at the clock on the nightstand and gasped. “Here I’ve kept you talking and you’re going to be late for church.”

“I won’t be late. I’m already dressed. I’ve enjoyed talking to you, dear.”

“Still, you’d better be going. I’ll call you when I get back home, okay?”

“All right. Have a good time. And remember—you’ll know when it’s right for you.”

“I hope you’re right, Granny Fran,” Celia murmured after disconnecting the call. “I really hope you’re right.”

It had been very late when Reed had finally gotten to sleep, which meant he slept later than he’d intended Sunday morning. He was awakened by the buzz of the telephone on the nightstand. He snatched it up, more than half expecting the caller to be Celia.

Instead, it was his partner’s voice that greeted him. “Alexander’s making arrangements to leave the island first thing in the morning.”

“Which means he’ll be back here tomorrow afternoon,” Reed interpreted.

“You got it. Novotny’s booked on a flight that leaves tomorrow evening. We have information that all the players should be gathered there by Wednesday at the latest. It’s going down, partner. You ready?”

“I’ve been ready for the past week,” Reed growled, running a hand over his stubbled jaw. “What do you think I’ve been doing here all this time, working on my tan?”

“Rumor has it you’ve been working on Alexander’s woman. How is the PYT, Reed?”

“Who the hell’s been watching me?” Reed demanded, sitting abruptly upright in the bed.

“No one’s been watching you, Hollander. But we do have another agent there who’s waiting for the meeting, remember? I talked to him yesterday—when I couldn’t find you.”

“I was out.”

“So I heard. Seems you’ve been helping yourself to Alexander’s fancy car as well as his lovely bed toy.”

“Stop calling her that, damn it!”

There was a notable silence on the other end of the line. “What’s going on, Reed?” Kyle asked more quietly.