The Perfect Christmas. Debbie Macomber

      Cassie nodded. “He’s Shawn’s CPA and in a word…b-o-r-i-n-g.”

      “You didn’t say you were looking for a stand-up comic,” Shawn said, obviously annoyed.

      “Call me superficial, but I don’t want to date a man who wears knee-high socks with his sandals and a pocket protector in his pajamas.”

      “A little personality would be helpful,” Angie said in a defeated voice. “As you can tell, it’s not as easy as it seems.”

      “Warren!” Shawn’s face lit up. “What about Warren?”

      Once more Angie turned to Cassie.

      She nodded, but without enthusiasm. “Warren’s a…possibility.”

      “What’s wrong with Warren?” Shawn cried.

      Cassie shrugged. “Nothing really. He just doesn’t ring my bells. He might Angie’s, though.”

      Shawn leaned back, throwing out his arms in an expansive gesture. “I can introduce you, if you like.”

      “Tell me about him first,” Angie said.

      “He’s Shawn’s agent,” Cassie explained. “He’s a nice guy.”

      “Nice isn’t a word I’d use to describe Warren,” Shawn commented. “He’s a tough negotiator.”

      “But a real kitten on the inside,” Cassie said. “He’s also divorced. Recently, if I remember.”

      “He and Clare split last year. I don’t know many guys your age who aren’t divorced.”

      “That’s reassuring,” Cassie muttered. Warren was the best of the rather shallow pool of Shawn’s male friends and acquaintances. Shallow pools, as everyone knew, were usually the slimiest, too. This was exactly why she’d decided on the matchmaker.

      “Warren’s got a couple of kids. His wife has custody.”

      “Thanks, big brother, but I’ll stick with Dr. Dodson.”

      “I appreciate the suggestion,” Angie said, “but I’ll pass on Warren, too.”

      “If I think of anyone else, I’ll give you a call.”

      “You do that,” Cassie said, although she didn’t expect he would. “On second thought, phone Angie.”