Perfect Partners

somewhere, Joel belatedly recalled. He was sure Charlie had mentioned her recent engagement.
    Joel was checking out her slender fingers in search of a ring when Letitia Thornquist turned her attention back to the minister, who was concluding the service.
    “Charlie left this world while engaged in the activity he loved best,” the minister concluded. “Not all of us are thus privileged. His family and friends will miss him, but they can take satisfaction in knowing that Charlie lived his life the way he wished.”
    Joel gazed at the urn.
I’m going to miss you, you old son of a gun, even if you did throw a monkey wrench into everything at the end
.
    Joel watched with interest as Letitia opened her black bag, removed another large hankie, and blew her nose. She shoved the handkerchief back into her purse and tried to straighten her suit jacket with an unobtrusive movement. It was a useless effort, Joel concluded as he watched. It was obvious Letty was one of those people who could not put on a suit without having it look rumpled inside of five minutes.
    As if again aware of his gaze, Letty turned around. With an odd rush of prurient interest that came straight out of the blue, Joel found himself wondering if she wore that same expression of intent curiosity when she was in bed with a man. He could just imagine her surprise when she reached her climax. The thought made him smile. He realized it was the first time he had done so in days.
    “Let us all observe a moment of silence as we wish Charlie Thornquist an endless fishing trip.” The minister bowed his head, and everyone else followed suit.
    When Joel looked up again, he saw the minister hand the urn to Morgan Thornquist. The small group in the pews rose and started down the aisle toward the front of the small church.
    Morgan and Stephanie paused to talk to a couple of the other mourners. Joel kept his eye on Letitia, who was reaching for another hankie. When she opened her purse, two of the large pile of used handkerchiefs popped out and fell to the floor. Letitia bent over to retrieve them from under the pew. The action exposed the curves of a sweetly rounded derriere. The movement also tugged her blouse free of her skirt band in back.
    It was then that he decided Ms. Letitia Thornquist was going to be merely an inconvenience, not a major problem. On impulse he started down the aisle toward the pew where Letitia was on her hands and knees searching for the lost hankies.
    “I’ll get that for you, Ms. Thornquist.” Joel came to a halt, bent down, and scooped up the damp handkerchiefs. He handed them both to Letitia, who was still crouched between pews. She looked up in astonishment and Joel found himself gazing down into a pair of huge, intelligent sea green eyes.
    “Thank you,” she murmured, struggling to get to her feet and straighten her skirt and jacket at the same time.
    Joel stifled a sigh. He grasped her arm and hoisted her up. He realized she felt light but surprisingly strong. There was a healthy, vibrant quality about her.
    “Are you all right?” he asked.
    “Yes, of course. I always cry at funerals.”
    Morgan Thornquist ambled over, smiling. “Hello, Joel. Glad you could make it.”
    “I wouldn’t have missed Charlie’s funeral for the world,” Joel said dryly.
    “I understand. Have you met my daughter?” Morgan inquired. “Letty, this is Joel Blackstone, Charlie’s chief executive officer at Thornquist Gear.”
    Letty’s eyes were brilliant with curiosity and a hint of excitement. “How do you do?”
    “Fine,” Joel said shortly. “Just great.”
    Morgan looked at him. “You’ll come out to the cabin with us, won’t you? We’re going to have a couple of drinks and dinner in honor of Charlie.”
    “Thanks,” Joel said, “but I had planned on driving back to Seattle tonight.”
    Stephanie walked over to join the small group. “Why don’t you spend the night with us, Joel? We have plenty of room. That way you can join us for drinks and dinner.”
    What the hell, Joel thought. It would give him a chance to see just what he was going to be up against in the form of Ms. Letitia Thornquist. “All right. Thanks.”
    Letty was frowning thoughtfully. “You’re my uncle’s chief executive officer?”
    “Right.”
    Her eyes skimmed somewhat disapprovingly over his black windbreaker, jeans, and running shoes. He knew the precise instant when she noted the absence of a tie.
    “Were you in a hurry to get here, Mr.