Mrs. Valerio poked her head in from the kitchen. “You look very nice, Annabelle. Howard, come help me open this olive jar.” After she’d started seeing Mr. Bronicki, Mrs. Valerio had dyed her hair Woody Woodpecker red, which matched the crimson sneakers she wore tonight with her Sunday best black dress.

Mr. Bronicki, spiffy in a long-sleeved white shirt, followed her into the kitchen. Annabelle moved to her office, where she’d converted her desk into a serving table with Nana’s blue-and-yellow-plaid tablecloth and a gorgeous centerpiece of garden flowers Mrs. McClure had donated. Nana’s charming pottery plates from the 1960s held the cheese and fruit. Mr. Bronicki had volunteered to answer the door and pour the wine while Mrs. Valerio kept the platters replenished. By shopping carefully and soliciting help from her seniors, Annabelle had managed to bring the evening together on budget. Even better, she’d picked up two more male clients through her new Web site.

Focusing on business didn’t do much to erase the images of Heath in bed with Keri, but she did her best. The news that the WGN anchorwoman and the city’s top sports agent were an item had recently hit talk radio, including the morning’s top drive-time show, where disc jockeys Eric and Kathy had begun running a Name Their Weird Baby contest.

The doorbell rang. “I hear it,” Mr. Bronicki grumbled from the kitchen. “I’m not deaf.”

“Remember what I told you about smiling,” Annabelle said as he shuffled past.

“Haven’t been able to smile since I lost my teeth.”

“You’re funny as a box of Depends.”

“Respect, young lady.”

Annabelle had been worried people wouldn’t mix, and she’d asked Janine to help. Her friend was the first to arrive, followed by Ernie Marks and Melanie Richter. Within an hour, Annabelle’s tiny downstairs rooms were packed. Celeste, the University of Chicago economist, spent a lot of time talking to Shirley Miller’s godson Jerry. Ernie Marks, the quiet elementary school principal, and Wendy, the vivacious Roscoe Village architect, seemed to hit it off. Annabelle’s two newest clients, discovered through her Web site, clustered around the stylish Melanie. Unfortunately, Melanie seemed more interested in John Nager. In light of Melanie’s having once married a man with a fetish for disinfecting doorknobs, Annabelle didn’t think John the hypochondriac was her best match. The evening’s most interesting development, however, came from an unexpected quarter. To Annabelle’s surprise, Ray Fiedler latched onto Janine right away, and Janine didn’t do one thing to shake him off. Annabelle had to admit that Ray’s new haircut had done wonders for him.

By the time the last of the guests left, she was exhausted but satisfied, especially since everybody wanted to know the date of the next party, and a stack of her brochures had disappeared. All in all, Perfect for You had enjoyed a very successful night.

As Heath and Keri’s courtship entered its third week, Annabelle stopped listening to talk radio. Instead, she followed up on the connections her clients had made at the party, tried to dissuade Melanie from seeing John, and signed another new client. She’d never been busier. She only wished she were happier.