Prologue

Celeste "Sassy" Evans might have had her driver's license revoked for poor eyesight, but she could clearly see something was wrong. She added artificial sweetener and creamer to her coffee and studied the faces of the two women sitting across the large table from her. So far, only she, Trina Breitinger, and Lindy Patterson were here --- because the three of them had come together.

"So they're really not getting married?" She hadn't earned the nickname Sassy in college for keeping her nose out of other people's business.

Trina's dark brows furrowed. She exchanged a glance with Lindy before answering. "Oh, they're getting married all right. Just not anytime soon."

"Apparently they think they need more time to get to know each other before they set a wedding date." Lindy dunked her tea bag in and out of her cup in a slow rhythm.

"Wait. We're talking about Zarah and Bobby here, right? The ones who were practically engaged when they were younger. Correct?" Two weeks ago at Thanksgiving dinner, Trina's granddaughter and Lindy's grandson had announced their engagement --- and told the story of how they had met and dated many years before.

Sassy figured since they'd known each other for so long, the engagement would be short and the wedding soon. "What about our pact? What about our agreement that we would work to get at least one of our grandchildren married so that we have a great-grandchild before. . .a certain other person in the senior adult group?" Trina arched an eyebrow. "Lindy and I aren't the only ones with unmarried grandchildren."

"No, but at least yours are engaged. Caylor doesn't even go out on dates anymore. If it weren't for me --- and Zarah and Flannery --- my granddaughter would have no social life whatsoever. How am I supposed to work with that, I ask?"

Trina and Lindy were saved from answering by the arrival of the other two-fifths of the group: Helen "Perty" Bradley and Maureen O'Connor. Sassy was about to catch them up on the conversation so far then changed tacks when she caught sight of Perty's expression. "Why the long face, Perty? I swany, between you, Trina, and Lindy, people will think we just came from a funeral."

Not even Sassy's teasing put a smile on Perty Bradley's face. "My oldest grandson has moved into our carriage house. I know, I know, that should make me happy. But from what little he's told us, there was some big scandal when the art college learned he was romantically involved with one of the deans or something. I can't get a straight answer out of him about exactly what happened. But whatever happened, he makes it sound like it's going to be nearly impossible for him to get another professorship somewhere."

The server arrived with their pitchers of pancake batter and ramekins of fruit and other toppings, the same thing they got every week when they descended upon the small, kitschy eatery in the Berry Hill neighborhood of Nashville. It had taken them awhile to settle on a regular place for their Thursday morning get-together once the coffee shop they'd been going to down in Franklin had closed. But after their first visit to the Pfunky Griddle, they'd been hooked. "He teaches art doesn't he?" Sassy asked, lifting the jug of wholegrain batter. Perty nodded. "Caylor said something the other day about Robertson having trouble filling their adjunct positions. Get a copy of his résumé, and I'll have her pass it along to the appropriate people."

Perty smirked. "Have Caylor pass it along? All I'd have to do is pick up the phone and make one call, and he'd be hired. I was the first female president of our alma mater, if you recall."

Lindy, Trina, and Maureen exchanged looks Sassy wasn't sure she liked. More than sixty years ago, the three of them had come up with the nicknames Sassy and Perty for Celeste and Helen --- nicknames that had stuck so hard even their grandchildren had picked them up and used them.

"What?" Sassy and Perty asked at the same time.

"Well, I know we're not limiting the search for partners for our grandchildren to each other's grandchildren." Maureen leaned forward to sprinkle sliced strawberries on her pancake. "But Sassy, Caylor is single. And Perty, your grandson --- Dylan --- is single. As is Dylan's younger brother. Aren't both of those boys college professors? Surely Caylor would like one of them."

Sassy shook her head. "Caylor met Paxton at the family cookout in October. Said he was a nice guy but far too young --- at twenty-five, he's almost ten years younger than she."

Perty shook her head, too. "With Dylan just coming out of a relationship that cost him his job, I don't think that's a good idea." Sassy adopted her most serious expression. "We should work on getting the already engaged couple to the altar. And Perty and I" --- she looked to her best friend, who nodded in agreement --- "will do what we can with our offspring. If we put our minds to it, we can accomplish anything. After all, we are the Matchmakers."

Chapter 1

And they lived happily ever after. Period. The end." Caylor put down her favorite pen --- the one with the sparkly purple ink --- and twisted in her chair until her back popped in several places. She could understand her editor's wanting to get proofing on this book finished before Christmas, but to give her a due date for two weeks after Thanksgiving --- which translated into the Friday before finals week --- was ridiculous. She'd begged to have the deadline extended a week. Then she could have worked on the galleys while her students took their tests. But her request had been soundly, but kindly, denied.

No use fretting over something that wasn't to be. The work was done, and it would only take her another hour or so to type up a list of all the changes to e-mail back to her editor. And if she got the e-mail sent before midnight, she'd have beaten her Friday deadline by one day, technically.

But if she was going to keep working, she needed sustenance. As quietly as she could, she slipped down the stairs from her loft, skipping the third step from the bottom that squealed like a puppy with its head stuck in a fence.

She turned on the light over the sink instead of flooding the room with the original 1950s fluorescent lights. Opening the first of the three tall cabinets that served as the pantry, she pulled out the basket overflowing with packets of gourmet flavored hot chocolate. She dug through the assorted Mylar bags until she found what she wanted: sugar-free, dark-chocolate toffee. She put a mug of water in the microwave and set it for two minutes. She'd have to stop it before it beeped, lest she wake Sassy.

Next, she opened the middle cabinet. Back behind the multiple canisters of all different kinds of flour, she felt around for the Box. She and Sassy had agreed to keep it hidden behind the flour, because if Caylor didn't see it, she wouldn't want what was in it. At least not every day.

The Box wasn't there. Caylor pulled the flour bins out. Nope. No Box.

"Looking for this?"

Caylor jumped at her grandmother's soft voice, which coincided with the beeping of the microwave. Sassy held an opaque plastic storage bin, slightly larger than a shoe box, in both hands.

"I knew you had a deadline tomorrow, so when Trina, Lindy, and I stopped at Kroger on the way home from coffee this morning, I hit the Christmas candy aisle."

Caylor grinned. "Sass, I knew there was a reason I love you." Before Caylor pulled her mug out of the microwave, she grabbed the brushed stainless-steel kettle off the stove, filled it with fresh water, and put it back on over high heat. Then she fixed her own hot chocolate. Sassy sat down at the end of the 1950s chrome and Formica table and popped the lid off the Box. Still stirring her drink, Caylor took the chair to her right and examined the booty. All kinds of miniature candy bars wrapped up in green, red, silver, and gold foil wrappers, mixed in with Hanukkah geld, a sentimental favorite Sassy got every year in honor of her Jewish grandmother. But Caylor dug through the stash, knocking at least a quarter of the candy out, until she came to what she knew her grandmother would have put on the very bottom --- the chocolate-covered peanut butter Christmas trees.

"I only got a dozen of them," Sassy warned.

"For the twelve days of Christmas?" The kettle shrilled, and Caylor put the still-wrapped candy down beside her cup and got up to fix a cup of instant decaf coffee for her grandmother. "What flavor creamer?"

Caylor opened the cabinet above the coffeepot only she used in the mornings.

Sassy squinted and moved her glasses around. "Belgian chocolate toffee."

Shaking her head at their similarities in taste, Caylor pulled down the canister of flavored powdered creamer and stirred two heaping spoonfuls into the double-strong instant coffee. Ever since she'd turned Sassy on to espresso-based lattes and cappuccinos, she'd insisted on having her coffee at home extra strong, extra creamy, extra sweet, and extra flavored.

Sassy took the purple mug with both hands, blew across the surface twice, and took a sip. "Ahh. . .hits the spot. I wish the restaurant would decide to serve something other than plain coffee."

"Did y'all try somewhere new today?"

Sassy gave her an incredulous look. "Do you and your friends ever try somewhere new when you get together?"

"So you went to the Pfunky Griddle."

"They have the best banana, chocolate chip, raisin, and walnut fivegrain pancakes around. And with peanut butter on top, then drizzled with honey. . ." She kissed the tips of her fingers like an Italian.

"Delicious."

Caylor wrinkled her nose at the combination her grandmother concocted at the make-it-yourself pancake restaurant. "Sassy, you know you aren't supposed to be overdoing it on the sugars and refined carbs."

She raised one thin eyebrow. "Look who's talking."

Caylor stopped with her teeth half sunk into the chocolate-covered peanut butter tree. She finished the bite, let the salty-sweetness saturate her mouth a moment, and swallowed. "Hey, now, I do this only on rare occasions --- and I'm not the one with the blood-sugar issues." "I know. You've been so disciplined about keeping away from it. I'm proud of you. How much weight have you lost?"

"About twenty pounds. I'm fitting back into all of my size 14s now." Though that had less to do with discipline and more to do with the fact that --- between teaching, participation in the university's drama productions, and trying to get her latest book finished --- the only time she wasn't running ninety-to-nothing to get her work finished was during the very few hours of sleep she got each night. Who had time to eat with a schedule like that? Of course, the healthier selections they'd started offering in the cafeteria at school helped considerably, too.

"Good for you. Now what do you want me to make for you to take to Zarah's Christmas party tomorrow night?"

"You don't have to do that. I can pick something up at the grocery store on my way."

As expected, Sassy looked thoroughly scandalized. Caylor hid her grin.

"No granddaughter of mine will go from this house taking food the likes of that." She stood and opened all three pantry doors, then moved back to lean against the table beside Caylor so she could see the contents of all three cabinets at the same time. Caylor turned in her chair. "I told her I'd bring dessert."

"Excellent. Dessert's my middle name. Write this down." Caylor finished off her confectionary tree and crossed the kitchen to pull the small magnetic whiteboard off the side of the fridge. She pushed the Box back and set the whiteboard on the table before resuming her seat.

Sassy mumbled to herself, pointing at things in the pantry. "Okay. Ready?"

"Ready." Caylor hovered the dry-erase pen over the clean, white surface.

"Corn syrup. Confectioners' sugar. Dark brown sugar. Oleo. Peppermint extract. Chunky peanut butter. Bittersweet and semisweet chocolate. Butterscotch. Walnuts and pecans --- "

"Sassy, there will only be twelve people there. We're not feeding an army."

"Quiet. I've got friends and parties to go to also, you know. Keep writing."

Caylor chuckled and decreased the size of her handwriting to be able to fit the continual stream of ingredients onto the board. When Sassy lost her driver's license shortly after Papa passed away, Caylor had agreed to move in and become her grandmother's companion and primary source of transportation. It had been a difficult decision --- Caylor so enjoyed sharing a house with her two best friends, Zarah Mitchell and Flannery McNeill. But in the five years since then, Caylor had come to depend on Sassy as much as Sassy depended on her. Which was why Caylor had resigned herself to the idea she would never marry --- at least, not for a very long time. If she did, who would take care of Sassy?

Excerpted from THE ART OF ROMANCE: The Matchmakers #2 © Copyright 2011 by Kaye Dacus. Reprinted with permission by Barbour Books. All rights reserved.