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again."

    Mark rolled his eyes. "You make it sound like such a bad thing. I'm just trying to save you from your stuck-in-the-nineties look. But I didn't come in here to debate the merits of the latest winter fashions. I came to show you this."

    Mark straightened up to wave a computer printout he'd had tucked behind his back. He sashayed across the office and placed it on Chase's desk with a flourish.

    Chase knew what it was before he picked it up. He should. He'd designed the client information sheet printouts for the Capture Agency, along with the state-of-the-art compatibility matching software. He just didn't expect to see his name on it.

    "Mark." The tone of his voice said it all.

    "I know, I know. You don't mix business and pleasure. You run the business, you don't date the clients. But this is a hard match, Chase. We had nobody in our database that came close for compatibility. We were going to lose the sale."

    "So we lose a sale. We have plenty of other clients." Chase kept his voice level with an effort.

    "Yes, but when in the five years you've owned this place have you ever had a match?" Mark persisted.

    "I don't know. I don't check. I don't date clients."

    "Well, I check for you. Once a month. Once a week if you're moodier than usual."

    "I am not moody." Chase balled up the printout and tossed it into his wastebasket. He'd made a mistake in leaving his information from the software's early development stages in the test database if this was what Mark was doing with it. Chase made a mental note to delete the file. "Leave. Go search the Internet for the perfect sweater. I'll be here doing something radical called working."

    "You know what they say." Mark placed his lips closer to Chase's ear and whispered, "All work and no play makes Jack a dull boy."

    "So go worry about Jack." Chase focused on his monitor again, ignoring his assistant and right-hand man.

    "I'll take care of Jack later, don't you worry. For now, let's talk about you. It's not just your wardrobe that's stuck in the nineties. You need a new interest. A new woman. This woman, for instance. She's a perfect match." Mark produced a second, pristine and uncreased copy of the printout. "The computer says so, and you should know it's never wrong."

    In fact, Chase did know the computer was never wrong. His fuzzy logic software was revolutionary and incredibly accurate. Which still didn't mean he was going to date a client.

    "Thank you, Mark." Chase took the second copy and folded it into a complex paper airplane before sending it after the first. It landed nose first in the trash. The sight gave him a brief sense of satisfaction. The plane's design was aerodynamically sound, and his aim had been accurate.

    "You're just being stubborn." Mark retrieved the paper airplane and smoothed it out. "I signed her up. I took her money. I promised her a compatible date. You're compatible. So if you don't want to date her, you're going to have to tell her yourself."

    He dropped the paper onto Chase's keyboard and headed for the door.

    "I'm not going to call her," Chase said.

    Mark held up a hand behind him. "Talk to the hand."

    "That's very mature. I mean it. I don't date clients. I don't care how perfect she is."

    Mark's silencing palm answered for him. Then he shut the door, leaving Chase alone with the printout.

    He scowled first at the closed door, then at the sheet of paper covering his keyboard. In order to go back to work, he'd have to move it. Mark had left it that way to force him to look at the client sheet. Chase grudgingly admitted the strategy was sound. Annoying, but sound.

    Behind the annoyance he felt a vague curiosity. Who was this perfect woman? Since he had to pick it up anyway, Chase took the printout and leaned back in his chair to read it.

    Rachel Law. Hotshot sales professional, career woman, single. Smart. Chase looked over the section that showed her IQ and the special notes section that detailed any requirements a client had