The Perfect Christmas - Debbie Macomber [22]
To her astonishment, it was her brother, toting a five-foot Christmas tree.
“Shawn, what are you doing here?” Normally she’d be fortunate to see him twice in four months, and this was his second visit to Seattle in as many weeks.
“Are you complaining?”
“Of course not!”
“I come bearing gifts.” He thrust the Christmas tree into the room.
“So I noticed.”
Shawn grinned. “I thought you could use a bit of Christmas cheer.” He stepped into the condo and leaned the tree against the living room wall. “This also seemed like a good excuse to stop by so you could tell me how everything went yesterday.”
Had it only been the day before that she’d stood in the cold, soliciting donations? That didn’t seem possible, and yet Cassie hadn’t stopped thinking about the experience. What remained uppermost in her mind was the time she’d spent with Simon at the coffee shop. He’d been frank, unemotional, honest. She amended that to brutally honest. When she’d met him, she’d considered him rude and arrogant, but since then she’d had a change of heart. Simon, she decided, was simply…direct. He said what he felt and didn’t moderate his opinions in deference to other people’s flimsy egos. She’d never met anyone quite like him.
“Well?” Shawn prodded her.
“Who do you want to hear about first—Mr. Scrooge, who wasn’t sent by Simon as a test,” she added, “or would you rather I told you about the woman who threw coffee at me because she thought I’d flirted with her husband?”
Shawn flopped down on the sofa. “Both, and while you’re up, I’ll take a cup of that coffee.”
“Sure,” she said, while she got a mug and filled it to the brim. “You won’t believe what he said to me.”
“Scrooge?”
“No, Simon. I asked if he liked me and he said ‘not particularly.’ What’s so funny is the fact that—”
“Funny? You thought this was funny?”
“Not at first,” she admitted. “The thing with Simon is that he wasn’t being intentionally rude. He’s the most plainspoken man I’ve ever encountered.”
“Sounds like a bore to me.”
“I called him a dolt.” She smiled at the memory. “He didn’t much like that.”
“So he can dish it out, but he can’t take it?”
“Well, he certainly isn’t used to it.”
They chatted for a while, until Shawn eventually said, “I hope you realize that all you’ve done is talk about Simon. I’ve yet to hear a word about anyone else.”
“Really?” Caught up in her musing, Cassie hadn’t noticed.
“I think you might be falling for him.”
“For Simon?” The suggestion was ludicrous. “Oh, hardly! If I’m focusing on him, it’s because he’s the man who holds the key to my happiness. He’s going to introduce me to John—and I have high hopes for John. He’s my perfect—oops, most suitable, which is what Simon calls it—match.”
“Just in time for the perfect—or should I say, most suitable—Christmas.”
Cassie suspected Shawn was mocking her a little, but she was too hopeful and too happy to care.
All at once he grew serious. “Don’t build your expectations too high, Cassie. What if you and this John character don’t really connect?”
“But we will. That’s the beauty of it. Simon studied our profiles and concluded that we’re ideal for each other. I think his success lies in the fact that he can be emotionally detached and even clinical. It’s all quite scientific, you know.”
“Uh-huh.” Shawn nodded wryly.
“Did I mention Simon refuses to talk about himself? That’s probably why he’s so brilliant at this. He doesn’t want to cloud the relationship between him and his clients. His sole focus is on finding the right person for them.”
“Seems to me you’ve got him all figured out.”
“I think I just might. Now wipe that smirk off your face,” she said. Now that she’d thought seriously about Simon, and she’d been doing that for the past twenty-four hours, it all made a crazy kind of sense.
Simon made sense.
Simply put, he wasn’t encumbered with the need to please others. His skill at matchmaking was based on