Perfect Match. Dara Girard

on.”

      “But—” Hannah began in a weak voice, shocked not just by his action but also by how comfortable her hand felt in his.

      He stopped in front of the vendor and took out his wallet. “Order whatever you want.”

      She wouldn’t say no to free ice cream, even if the man had confused her for someone else. Hannah ordered an ice cream sandwich and he ordered a cone.

      His cell phone rang. He glanced at the number.

      “You should get that.”

      “No, it’s okay,” he said, handing her the sandwich.

      “I don’t want to keep you.”

      “You’re not. Isn’t it a great day?” he said, leaving the vendor a generous tip and walking in the opposite direction.

      Hannah fell in line with him. “For some.”

      “Who’s pissing on your parade?”

      She laughed. “My sister.”

      “Older, right?”

      Hannah blinked, surprised. “Yes.”

      He frowned. “That’s hard. Any way to get around her?”

      “She blames me for everything. My parents might lose their house, and the stress of it put my father in the hospital.” Tears welled in her eyes. She sniffed and quickly blinked them away. “I don’t know why I’m telling you this, since I don’t know you.” However, even as she said the words they no longer seemed true. She felt as if she’d known him her whole life. There was an affinity. She trusted him and it felt good to talk to him, to be with him. Suddenly, she was happy that the sun was shining and she could hear the laughter of children in the distance. She noticed the bright white of the spatter of clouds as they slowly drifted across a blue sky that showed no threat of rain.

      His phone rang again and he absently turned off its ringer and put it on vibrate.

      “What’s your name?” she asked, eager to learn more about him.

      “Take a guess.”

      Hannah stroked her chin as if in deep thought. “I know.”

      “What?”

      “Rumpelstiltskin.”

      He laughed. “That’s right. People rarely guess that on the first try.”

      “Right now I could really use a man who could spin straw into gold,” she said, feeling her good mood fading.

      The man playfully nudged her with his elbow. “I’m a man of many talents. What do you need?”

      “Not me. My parents.” Soon she was telling him all about her parents’ housing trouble.

      “Did you get a second opinion?”

      “No.”

      He wrote down a number. “Call this guy. He’s trustworthy. He might be able to give you a lower estimate.”

      “Thanks. Whom should I say referred him?”

      He winked. “Rumpelstiltskin. Call me Rum for short.”

      Hannah shook her head. “You’re impossible.” She paused. “Wait. What do you think my name is?”

      He hesitated and then suddenly looked sheepish. “I don’t remember your name, just your face.”

      Hannah laughed. “Perhaps I have a twin somewhere.” She glanced down at his hand. “Your ice cream is melting.”

      He looked down and saw the vanilla ice cream leaking from the bottom of his cone onto his hand. He sucked the bottom of the cone until all the ice cream was finished. “There, that’s better.”

      “There’s still ice cream on your hand.”

      “I don’t have any napkins.”

      “Just lick it off.”

      “Sure.” He raised a sly brow. “Want to help me?”

      Definitely. She felt her face grow warm. She could imagine licking, sucking, teasing and anything else he asked of her. She bet he tasted sweet, too. She remembered watching the sight of his pink tongue against the chocolate-covered vanilla cone, and just for one wild moment she imagined that chocolate was her skin melting under the warm assault of his tongue. She brushed the thought aside, the day suddenly feeling hotter than it really was. “I still don’t know your real name.”

      “You’ll remember it soon.”

      “Even though you don’t remember mine?” she countered.

      “At least I remember your face. Your name will come back to me eventually. Of course, you could give me a hint.”

      Hannah shook her head. “You first. Where did we meet?”

      His phone buzzed insistently, as if the caller demanded a response.

      “Saved by the bell,” she teased, and then she saw an expression of frustration and guilt cross his face. “You really should answer that,” Hannah said, seeing his jaw twitch in annoyance. “I’m fine now...really. Thanks for everything.”

      He glanced at the number and then put the phone away. “I didn’t do anything.” He lifted her chin with his forefinger. “Keep your chin up.” He smiled and then started to walk away.

      “Wait. At least tell me your name. What is it?”

      He bent down and plucked a buttercup and handed it to her. “You already know it. Just say my name four times and I’ll come.”

      “That’s not how the story goes.”

      “That’s how our story will.” His mouth spread into a smile that was as intimate as a kiss, and then he turned and walked away.

      Hannah watched him go, holding the flower close to her chest, wishing she could hold on to him instead.

      * * *

      “And you didn’t get his name?” Hannah’s assistant, Bonnie Li, said in disbelief. They sat in Hannah’s new office, which was still not completely furnished but serviceable. At least the front receptionist’s area looked impressive. She’d had a stroke of luck because one of the tenants in the building where their office was located had just been evicted. They had left behind several pieces of furniture and lamps, which she and Bonnie had eagerly snatched.

      The two women had met in college and become fast friends. Like Hannah, Bonnie hadn’t lived up to her parents’ expectations, either. Small and lithe, she’d trained to be a dancer until a torn ligament ended that dream. Bonnie had a mind to go into sports medicine, which was a profession frowned upon in her Chinese family of three doctors and two university professors. But she’d jumped on board with Hannah despite the low pay, discovering a love for organization and helping people. She looked young for her age of thirty, but she dressed up to appear older. After reading several books on how to make over oneself, she had cut her waist-length black hair short and colored it a striking reddish-brown. She had lovely almond-shaped brown eyes and an attractive slender figure. But there was nothing delicate about her—she liked dirty jokes and the occasional Jack Daniel’s. Bonnie pointed at her friend. “What is wrong with you?”

      Hannah threw up her hands, helpless. “At first I thought he was crazy. I mean, I looked a mess and he was going on as if he was so happy to see me.”

      “Tell me how good-looking he was again.”

      “I’ve already told you twice.”

      “Tell me again.”

      “No, there’s no point. I’ll probably never see him again.”

      “Maybe he’ll call you.”

      “He couldn’t remember my name, either.”

      “Maybe