He popped one in his mouth and shrugged. “I calmed the investors for now and our latest problem client demanded her newest matches have specific initials. So all in all, a typical day.”

“Why would you request specific initials?” Ellie asked, mystified. “Is that even something one could request?”

“Celtic Connections clients can request anything they want.”

“So,” Evelyn asked, “if Ellie wanted a man who trained Bengal tigers, and had the initials TIG, you could deliver?”

Colin smirked. “I didn’t say that. I said clients canrequestanything they want. But ultimately, the matchmaker has the final call as to what candidates are brought forth for consideration.”

“I don’t get to go through the database and choose my own at all?” Ellie asked, sounding disappointed.

“Nope, sorry. You gave me a list of desirable qualities, and it’s then up to me to determine who seems like a good fit. Then I’ll interview each candidate until I have a few that I think might work well with your personality and either set up dates or hold an event.”

“An event?” Ellie didn’t like the sound of that. “Will there be more cameras?”

“No. Closed door. We don’t typically do the events anymore, really. But if we do, each candidate has to sign all sorts of extra documents if they’re interested in matching with you. Non-disclosure agreements that hold them fiscally responsible if any news about the event or date goes public.”

“I’m suitably impressed,” Evelyn declared. “I was wondering how you might get around the media frenzy in England. NDAs are a great idea.”

“The lawyers insist upon it,” Colin replied as Ellie pulled the chicken from the oven. His mouth watered at the sight of the food, and he took down plates from the cabinets. He began to set the table as he continued, “That’s their job. Mine is to find Ellie a partner. Your happiness is the most important thing, Ellie. You won’t find that if all we have are gold diggers and fame hunters.”

“If you’re struggling to find people in Europe to sign up for your services, how do you plan to match me?” Ellie wondered. She grabbed the bottle of wine and topped off everyone’s glass. “It was my understanding that my aunt’s article was quite damaging.”

Colin wagged his eyebrows. “We said we had trouble getting clients, not candidates. I have a very large pool of men and women interested in being candidates for our clients.”

He went on to discuss the screening process and background checks that went into each candidate, and the conversation continued throughout dinner. When they finished eating, he cleaned up as the women sat at the island, still chatting.

A deep sense of contentment settled into Colin’s bones, and much as he knew he needed to ignore it, to push it away, he couldn’t.

Colin ensuredhis mom got into her car safely, then he closed the door and turned the locks. Wandering into the living room, where Ellie curled up on the leather sofa, he gave her a sidelong glance and settled down on the opposite side of the couch.

“What?”

He shrugged. “I thought you said you were shy around new people?”

Ellie smiled. “Your mother is lovely. Is she always like that?”

“She is. She brings out the best in people, though she usually does so over a cup of tea.” He paused. “How did you find the city today?”

“Oh, it was lovely! It’s much warmer here than at home, and the city is so much smaller. I love the cobblestones,” Ellie mused. “I enjoyed it very much.”

“You sound surprised. Did you not expect to enjoy it?”

“No, of course I did. But sometimes, as I’ve been raised an Englishwoman, it’s hard to remember that this is my home country. That I’m American.”

“When did you go to live with your aunt?”

Ellie sat silently for so long, Colin thought she wouldn’t answer the question. “I was seven. Just young enough to have a few memories of my parents, and just old enough to miss them.” She stared at her hands. “Both my parents were in and out of jail for drugs and weapons. But they were never in at the same time until they decided to rob a convenience store together. They were caught before they even left the building. I was in school at the time, and I remember theprincipal coming to get me. There was a stranger there, some authority figure from social services. I was made to go with her, and I remember I had to stay the night at her house. The next day, Winnie was there, and I left for England a few days after that. She convinced my parents to sign over parental rights to her.”

Colin gave a low whistle. “That’s a lot for a child to deal with. But, if you were seven, how did you so fully lose your American accent?”

She absently pulled at a string on her shirt. “When I started back at school in London, I was bullied because I sounded different. When my aunt found out, I begged her to teach me to speak as a proper English girl would. So she did, and the next year, I switched to a new school. No one was the wiser, and now it’s all I know,” she finished with a half shrug. “I can imitate an American accent without too much trouble, though.”

Colin nodded. “Your aunt’s lessons worked. When I met you, I thought you were English.”

She smiled. “I am, mostly. I’m caught between two cultures—the one I was born into, and the one I choose to live in. Neither is better than the other, just different. Does that make sense?”

More than you know.“It sure does.”