No way in hell.
I repeat that mantra to myself again, walking into the hospital where my favorite uncle has just defied death.
How could this happen? How can I, Meg Carmichael, with more ex-bosses than boyfriends, end up running my uncle's dating service? I'd never expected it. Then again, I never expected Uncle Dan's heart attack.
The strong smell of ammonia startles me at a slight moan coming from the hospital bed. Blinking and trying to adjust to the light, I see my dear friend Cappuchi wearing a bright purple sweatshirt and matching baseball cap, holding tightly to my uncle's hand. The memory of the night before comes rushing back to me.
Cappuchi smiles. "There she is."
I embrace my dear friend. "Hi, Cappuchi. It's so good to see you." I tower half-a-foot over the tiny Puerto Rican woman. "You look good," I say. She does. She really does. This fifty-something woman looks no older than the last time I saw her. She'll probably look this way forever.
Cappuchi laughs and holds me out to the extent of her arms, getting a good look at me.
"How 's Uncle Dan feeling?"
She answers in her Spanish/Jewish slang. "Ella esta shiksa! Tiene scnuni! Nada Mas! Scnuni!"
Laughter bubbles up in me. "English, Cappuchi. Speak English. You know I don't understand your slang. Nobody does."
She pats me on the back. "You're still a shiksa, Meg."
"And you're still a Puerto Rican fireball, Cappuchi."
She pats her leg. "I may be Puerto Rican, but those Jewish men are the only ones who can get any shnuni.
"Hey you," Uncle Dan rasps. Cappuchi looks from me to Dan and remains in the doorway, straightening the brim of her purple baseball cap. "See you at the office, Meg."
At his bedside is a glass of water with a straw, and I place it in his mouth so that he can take a sip. "How are you feeling?" Banal, but what else is there to ask?
"You know me, angel, tough as nails. It'll take more than a little heart attack to get this old man down." He attempts a laugh but it doesn't quite come off.
I brush the hair from his eyes. "The doctors say you'll be just fine. You just need to get some rest and not worry about anything. I'm going to your office today to get set up there and take over for you as long as necessary."
I try to be reassuring, not only for him, but also for myself. This is no time to mention that I'm not the best bet to run his office, considering I've just been fired from yet another job. Me, running a dating service. It's ludicrous.
)
Meg Carmichael has not been able to hold a job since she graduated from college. Her tendency to tell the truth has gotten her into nothing but trouble. When her favorite uncle suffers a heart attack, he begs her to step in and help run his Sacramento dating service. Meg recruits her gay friend Emerson, who has more boy toys than Meg has shoes, as Event Coordinator, who attempts to win over the staff and increase business through a number of outlandish schemes. Dealing with lonely, often desperate, men forces her to wear a wedding ring, which complicates her already tumultuous love life. When Meg begins to dig into the company's finances, she discovers that her uncle's business partner has a scheme of his own.
