Annabelle has taken over her dead grandmother’s matchmaking service, and is determined that this is the business she will actually manage to make successful. Her mother wants her to become an accountant (her successful older brother could get her a job in his firm), but Annabelle is having none of it. Of course, making a living as a successful matchmaker is difficult when most of her current clients are her grandmother’s old clients, mainly pensioners, who insist on getting the same prices as they did twenty years ago. If Annabelle could just get Heath Champion, Chicago’s most sought-after bachelor as her client, and actually find him the woman of his dreams, she’s convinced that her business will be a success.
Heath Champion, sports agent extraordinaire, popularly nicknamed “The Python” in business circles, is indeed ready to find himself a wife. Because he is busy wheeling and dealing and hand holding top athletes all over the country, he’s already hired Portia Powers from the top matchmaking firm in Chicago to find him promising candidates. So when a flustered redhead in a wrinkly yellow suit shows up at his office, late for her appointment, to try to convince him to use her services instead, he’s inclined to tell her to get lost. She is the close friend of his top client’s wife, though, and amuses him with her tenacity. He agrees to let Annabelle set him up for one date, and if he likes the woman, he’ll sign with her agency too.
Portia and Annabelle become rivals in trying to find Heath’s perfect woman. Their job is made more difficult in that Heath usually only sets aside twenty minutes for each candidate, and after a few meetings, insists that Annabelle sit in on all the meetings to make conversation flow more smoothly. Portia is furious that a badly dressed, flighty amateur seems to be moving in on her turf, and to make matters worse, Heath’s menacing thug of a driver is trying to blackmail her into dating him.
I’m not spoiling it for anyone when it’s obvious from early on that Annabelle is Heath’s perfect match and he just needs to put down his mobile phone and get out of the office for long enough to realise it. More on my blog.
“PRINCESS PARTY!” I know she was plot mopppety, but the Pippi stuff just killed me. She seemed like a realistic three year old to me.
Pippi was quite cute, yes, and the Princess Party seemed like a pretty awesome party to be for little girls. I didn’t understand why Heath kept handing the kleptomaniac child his phones, though.