“Oh, the pleasure is all mine.” Medusa gives me another one of her petrifying stares, then walks away.

Good riddance.

I shuffle through the crowd, eating a few treats, drinking champagne, and making civil conversation with the other guests I know, until Garrett finds me again about forty-five minutes later.

“What do you think?”

I shrug at the surroundings. “Amazing party, man.”

“Not about the party.” He smacks me playfully. “About Leslie’s friend.”

“Who?”

Garrett waves a hand before my face. “Have you gone blind? Vivian. She’s hard to miss.”

Hard to miss, for sure. If I’m being objective, Medusa is one of the most beautiful women I’ve ever seen. Dark brown hair, big Bambi eyes, and that heart-shaped mouth. Pity the more-than-pleasant appearance doesn’t come paired with an equally amiable temperament.

“Yeah, sorry, man, she’s not my type.”

“Really?”

I study my friend. “You seem hurt by the revelation. What’s up?”

Garrett hides half a grin. “Oh, nothing, it’s just that she’s single, you’re single, so Leslie and I thought…”

I scoff, while pocketing the information that, indeed, there’s no father in the family picture of my office neighbor.

“You’re not seriously trying to play matchmaker, are you?”

“Why not? She’s great, you’re great… We were just waiting for the right moment to introduce you guys.”

I raise an eyebrow. “And by the right moment, you mean…?”

Garrett stares out across the East River. “Once you were ready to date again.” He turns to look at me. “Are you? It’s been six months since Brenda left.”

I consider my answer for a second. Not a week ago, I promised myself I’d be more open to friends’ offers to match me up.

Not with the Wicked Witch of the West Office, though, a voice protests in my head.

Okay, maybe not her… But someone else? Why not?

“Yeah,” I say. “I’m ready.”

“That’s great, man.” Garrett pats me on the shoulder. “Listen, if you don’t want to ask Vivian out, you should try the dating agency that set me up with Leslie.”

“I said I was ready to try dating again, not search for a wife.”

On my other side, Leslie comes up to me, whispering, “Ah, but it is a truth universally acknowledged, that a single man in possession of a good fortune must be in want of a wife.”

I shrug. “Get me the good fortune, and then we can talk about the wife.”

“Such a material man,” a familiar voice comments from behind Leslie.

Garrett’s fiancée moves to the side to reveal Medusa in all her wicked glory.

“Oh, please,” Leslie says. “Luke is the soppiest romantic man on Earth.”

Brown eyes glint with amused malice. “Is he now?”