“I don't need to be fixed anymore. That job's already been done. I love you, Annabelle.-Heath Champion-”

“I don't love you anymore", she whispered. "I don't love you at all." His throat closed. "It's all right, sweetheart. I love you enough for both of us.”

“If another woman had been around, this would never have happened.""Whatever you're trying to say, just spit it out.""Come on, Heath. I'm not blond, leggy, or stacked. I was the default setting. Even my fiance never said I was sexy.""Your ex-fiance wears lipstick, so I wouldn't take that to heart. I promise, Annabelle, you're very sexy. That hair...""Do not start in on my hair. I was born with it, okay. It's like making fun of someone with a birth defect.”

“Never mind that. What's going on with you and Heath?"Annabelle pulled a little wide-eyed innocence out of her rusty bag of college acting skills."What do you mean? Business.""Don't give me that. We've been friends too long."She switched to a furrowed brow. "He's my most important client. You know how much this means to me."Molly wasn't buying it. "I've seen the way you look at him. Like he was a slot machine with triple sevens tattooed on his forehead. If you fall in love with him, I swear I'll never speak toyou again." Annabelle nearly choked. She'd known Molly would be suspicious, but she hadn't expected an outright confrontation. "Are you nuts? Setting aside the fact that he treats me like a flunky, I'd never fall for a workaholic after what I've had to go through with my family." Falling in lust, however, was an entirely different matter."He has a calculator for a heart," Molly said. "I thought you liked him.”

“Phoebe tapped the toe of her sneaker against the dock. “There’s only one good use for a man like Heath Champion.”“Here we go again,” Molly muttered. Phoebe’s lip curled. “Target practice.”

“Maybe I should let my faithful manservant answer the rest of your questions, since he seems to have all the answers.""I'm saving her time," Bodie replied. "She brings you a redhead, you'll give her grief. Look for women with class, Annabelle. That's most important. The sophisticated types who went to boarding schools and speak French. She has to be the real thing because he can spot a phony a mile away. And he likes them athletic.""Of course he does," she said dryly. "Athletic, domestic, gorgeous, brilliant, socially connected, and pathologically submissive. It'll be a snap.""You forgot hot." Heath smiled. "And defeatist thinking is for losers. If you want to be a success in this world, Annabelle, you need a positive attitude. Whatever the client wants, you get it for him. First rule of a successful business.""Uh-huh. What about career women?""I don't see how that would work.""The kind of potential mate you're describing isn't going to be sitting around waiting for her prince to show up. She's heading a major corporation. In between those Victoria's Secret modeling gigs."He lifted an eyebrow. "Attitude, Annabelle. Attitude.”

“You'll need to do a better job, Annabelle. No more dates like the first one tonight.""Agreed. And no more making me sit through your Power Matches introductions, either. As you so wisely pointed out, helping Portia Powers isn't in my best interests.""Then why are you still trying to talk me into seeing Melanie again?""Hunger makes me weird.""You got rid of the last one in fourteen minutes. Well done. I'm rewarding you by letting you sit in on all the introductions from now on."She nearly choked on an ice cube. "What are you talking about?""Exactly what I said.”