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“You’re a matchmaker?”

“I guess you could call me that. Are you looking for a wife?”

Alec chuckled. “No, not at the moment.” But he couldn’t ignore the image of the violet-eyed beauty that drifted through his mind. He imagined she was a woman who could keep him interested for a long time. He’d find out tomorrow morning, but for now, Alec had to concentrate on the job at hand.

Mario pulled the cab over to the curb, then pointed to a brick five-story. “That’s Ruta’s. Say hello for me and tell her I’ll see her tomorrow afternoon. I take her out to Brooklyn every Thursday. She tells fortunes for free at a retirement center there.”

Alec paid the cabbie, then hopped out. He walked along the sidewalk, back and forth in front of the shop, as he collected his thoughts. His father had always come away frustrated from his meetings, unnerved by the yearly curse she had put on him. She’d even become a legend around the office. Whenever the photocopy machine broke or important paperwork got lost, it was blamed on the Gypsy’s wrath.

Alec took off his jacket and draped it over his arm, then loosened his tie and unbuttoned the top button of his shirt. All he had to do was keep his cool, listen to her concerns and then address them, logically and calmly. His father had never tried that approach, so it might just work the first time out.

A tiny bell rang above his head as he entered the shop. The interior was a hodgepodge of old wooden display cases, thick tapestries and threadbare furniture, just another in the mix of odd establishments scattered throughout the Village. He wandered over to the counter and bent down to examine Ruta’s merchandise, if it could be called that.

There were birds’ nests and the jaw from some sharp-toothed animal, a small bowl of amber crystals and a bottle of dark green liquid. Everywhere he looked, there was something more bizarre—feathers and pickled eggs and dried roots and berries. His gaze halted on a stuffed weasel that sat above the cash register. The place was downright creepy—and empty. “Hello?” he called.

An instant later a slender figure popped up from behind one of the counters. Her long black hair tumbled around her face, and when she brushed it back, he met familiar eyes of a strange violet color. For a long moment, they didn’t speak, a tiny frown marring her smooth brow.

“It’s you,” he finally said. “From the sidewalk this morning.”

“Yes,” she murmured. Her fingered fluttered up to her necklace and she rubbed the pendant nervously. “How are you? How did you find me?”

“You work here?”

She nodded. “I do. My grandmother owns this place. Ruta Lupescu.”

“Your grandmother,” Alec said very slowly. “Ruta is your grandmother.” He fought the urge to step back out to the sidewalk and regroup. Either this was incredible luck or terrible irony. He’d been thinking about this woman all day and now here she was, as if destiny had put her in front of him.

Was there any way to separate business from pleasure now? Ruta had made her feelings about the Harnett family well known. What were the odds that her granddaughter would feel differently? Given time, perhaps he could enlist her help to convince Ruta.

For now, that’s what he needed—time. He could play it cool, collect a bit more information and revise his strategy. “I understand you tell fortunes here.” He swallowed hard, suddenly finding it difficult to speak. Out on the street, he felt safe, in control. But this was her environment. His mind drifted back to the old woman’s curse. Perhaps her granddaughter was even more powerful than she was.

“My grandmother usually does the readings,” she said. “She’s not in right now, but she’ll be back in about a half hour.” A tiny smile twitched at the corners of her mouth. “Funny, I wouldn’t have pegged you for the type to come into this shop.”

“I’ve always been curious,” Alec admitted, returning her smile. “And some power must have made me walk through that door.” He leaned in closer, bracing his elbows on the counter. “Maybe you would do my reading?”

She