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Meryton Matchmakers

Page 5

by Kristi Rose


  “Geo, is this from your agent?” She picked up the last of the pages.

  “Yeah, he said I broke our contract, has hit me with a fee, and says if I want to continue with him, I’ll need to sign a new one.” He glanced at her wide-eyed, and a second later, a change shifted over him. He straightened and rested one arm over his knee so he looked to be lounging, his phone in his lap. He slapped a crooked smile on his face before saying, “It’s no biggie. Just caught me off guard with the timing. Shall we go meet some chicks?” He attempted to push up, but Lydia shoved him back.

  “Don’t give me that load of crap. Something is going on here, and I want to know what it is.” It was the craziest feeling, but she couldn’t shake how alone he seemed. How no one was in his life to offer help or even protection.

  He winked. “It’s all good.”

  Lydia snatched his phone, then quickly stood and moved away. On the screen was an email from his agent basically cussing Geo out. The first two lines had Lydia so hopping mad she considered finding this agent person and kicking him in any area that would hurt. Starting with the shins.

  She narrowed her eyes as she scrolled through the text.

  “Lydia, give me my phone.” Geo shuffled to his feet, and lunged to retrieve his phone, but Lydia thwarted his halfhearted attempt by simply turning away.

  “What’s this about missing a rehearsal?”

  The cocky bad boy who sat before her a few days ago was gone. His shoulders slumped. Geo stuffed his hands in his pockets before shrugging. “Just like it sounds. There was a mandatory rehearsal, and I missed it.”

  “Because?” She watched his expression. As a woman who kept her secrets close, she recognized the same wariness in Geo.

  “What does it matter? I was going to be fired anyway. They were killing off my character. I saved them money by not showing up.” He leaned against the wall and kicked one ankle over the other.

  She was not fooled by his pretense. “The way this email reads, you had a few more months of work before they offed your character. Why not show up and collect the money?”

  Geo pulled the blue reflective sunglasses out of his coat pocket and slid them on.

  “So your agent says you were fired, and he’s ticked because it cost him money as well. Sounds like you might have a problem with this sort of thing?” According to the email, the agent didn’t think he could find Geo another acting job since his reputation made him a risk. The producers of the soap Geo was fired from would make sure other producers were in the know.

  “I’ll get another role. They’re a dime a dozen.”

  She handed him the phone. “That’s not what you said the other day. You made it sound like you were looking forward to the shift in the role.”

  Geo tucked his phone in his breast pocket and pushed from the wall. “Moving on to better things, baby. I got women out there to woo.”

  Lydia scooped down, snatched one sheet of paper from the stack, and held it in front of his face with the words facing him. “You are a free agent in every sense of the word. This piece of paper says, as of today, your old contract with your agent is null and void. You saw that, right?”

  Geo snatched the paper, his eyes scanning it erratically. “Where does it say that?”

  Lydia reached across the paper and pointed to the paragraph. “Did you also see right here in the new contract where he’s asking for power of attorney? That’s not typical in these sorts of contracts, are they? I can’t imagine they would be. Doesn't that give him access to all your money? Also”—she handed him a second sheet––“this says you’ll do all your own nudity and such. I think you should really go through this, Geo. This doesn’t look to be a good contract.”

  Geo grabbed the paper from her hand, then bent to collect the others. “He’s a great agent. He’s stuck by me. I need him.”

  “Really, sounds like he’s a real butthead. You could do better.”

  He shot a glare at her over his shades before rolling the papers and then tucking them in his back pocket. “What do you know? You’re a hairdresser for a small town love shop.” He shoved his glasses up and then walked away briskly.

  Lydia smiled sadly. Poor, distrusting George Wickham. What must a person endure to be such a cynic, yet believe when a person is treating you poorly, they are actually treating you well?

  Her instinct had been right; Geo Wickham was an opportunity, but in ways she’d never imagined. She followed him from the back into the main event room. The social was in full swing, but the buzz was not the usual excited chatter. Very little laughter was floating around the room. What little laughter there was sounded more nervous and strained. She found Geo over by the bar having a cocktail and figured he was safe there for the time being. Curious as to why the mood was sinking, Lydia started making the rounds, chatting with the clients, and one repeated thread continued to present itself.

  Lizzy had made a mistake. Lots of them. It was understandable that not all her pairings would be a success, but her odds were usually good, exceedingly so. Except for tonight. Lydia had yet to find more than a few couples expressing a genuine interest in who they’d been paired with.

  After sorting out a situation where Lizzy had paired one woman with two men, Lydia convinced them the error was indeed that––a mistake. She then set out to search for her older sisters.

  She paused mid-stride when she saw Elizabeth talking with Darcy. There was no mistaking Elizabeth’s rigid posture and hands clenched at her side.

  Lydia hated having even the simplest of conversations with Elizabeth when her sister’s mind was that inflexible.

  She came to a stop next to Lizzy and gently grasped her elbow. She nodded to the guests. “Evening Mr. Darcy, Miss. Bingley. I’m sorry to interrupt, but I need to speak with you, Lizzy.”

  Lizzy looked wide eyes at her. “Mr. Darcy and Miss. Bingley were just leaving.”

  Lydia stood awkwardly in the group, no one saying anything.

  “Um…” Lydia tugged at Elizabeth’s elbow.

  “Yes, you need to speak with me.” Elizabeth stepped back and said to the couple. “Thanks for coming.” She spun on her heel and was quickly lost in the crowd. Lydia chased after her.

  “Elizabeth, I need to speak with you.” She managed to catch up.

  “Not right now, Lydia,” Elizabeth bit out.

  “Yes, now. We have a problem—”

  Elizabeth stopped and spun toward her. “Handle it. Whatever it is, just handle it.” She slapped her hands on her hips. “Think you can manage that?”

  Lydia couldn’t help but laugh. Opportunity was a gift that kept on giving. “Oh, I totally can.”

  Chapter Ten

  Wishing he could disappear into thin air, George instead hid in the shadows at the end of the bar and allowed himself one cocktail. Anything more would make him sloppy, and he couldn’t afford that. His life was already in a tailspin, and he had no idea what to do about it. He was overcome with both anger and fear, and the mix of the two rendered him stuck, unsure as to how to move forward. Or move in any direction for that matter. He’d depended on his agent for the last several years to manage his professional life. The man knew George never looked at his email, and why he hadn’t called to give him the heads-up about the mandatory rehearsal was baffling. As was the new contract and power of attorney clause. Alarms were sounding off in George’s head, but he didn’t know whom to turn to for help.

  Suddenly, Lydia was standing next to him, and she slapped her hand on the bar. Her normally full and begging-to-be-kissed bow-shaped lips were currently pressed tightly together. She slapped her hand again and huffed loudly, ending it all with a stomp of her foot.

  “Is something the matter? Is this charades? Are you a horse?” He thought it was funny. She did not.

  “I’m sure you haven’t noticed since you’ve been wallowing in your own mess, but this social is dying a slow and painful death. The room is toxic.”

  George scanned the room. Very little was happening othe
r than people nibbling at the hors d'oeuvres. Down the bar from him and Lydia, a couple of men were tossing back shots. “Yeah, well, today is a day for overall suckage. Good to know it’s universal and not strictly directed at me.” He swirled his tumbler, making the ice clank against the side.

  Lydia looked like she could kick him in the shin. “Oh, poor you.” She rolled her eyes. “I’m really sorry they cut you early from the soap. That part truly sucks. But I’m not sorry your loser of an agent exposed himself for the snake he is. You can do better.”

  George snickered. He had yet to do better than the so-called snake. He’d tried before and always came up empty.

  “I could do a better job than him, and I know nothing about being an agent.” She took the glass from his hand and pushed it away. “You’re driving me nuts with that noise.”

  “Being an agent isn’t as easy as you might think. You have to have connections and rapport.”

  Lydia snorted. “Yeah, or maybe just a good sense of what people need.” She looked over his shoulder and jutted her chin in the same direction. “You see that tall willowy woman?”

  George looked behind him and immediately found the person Lydia was talking about. She stood at least six inches over the crowd since she was tall but wore stilettos that made her height excessive. She looked familiar, but George couldn’t place her. Her arms were crossed as she bent forward to listen to a shorter gentleman whose wallet was connected to his ragged khakis by a chain, a sleeve of tattoos on one arm. Though, upon second inspection, the man wasn’t so much short as she was too tall. He faced Lydia. “What about her?”

  She gave him an incredulous look. “She’s Suzie Carmichael, the producer for all those popular romantic comedies. She’s a new client to us, and from the look of things, she won’t be one for long. Especially after tonight.”

  Suzie Carmichael? He’d tried ages to get before her for an audition. He leaned to Lydia. “Word is she’s hard core. Tough as nails.”

  Lydia shrugged. “Yeah, but she’s kicking butt in a man’s world. She kinda has to be.”

  “I should go talk to her.” He took one step toward the producer but stopped when Lydia grabbed his elbow and turned him back.

  “What? Don’t do something so idiotic––”

  “I’m not an idiot,” he snarled.

  “I didn’t say you were an idiot. I said what you were about to do was idiotic. There’s a difference.”

  “And why would going to talk to her be idiotic? What do I have to lose?”

  “A possible good connection. She’s here to meet someone. If you go chat her up and she thinks you’re interested but finds out you had different motives, you will have ticked off a seriously powerful woman. If you go over and pitch to her while she’s ticked about tonight, she will always associate you with this embarrassing event. You can’t win this, Geo. So don’t go over there.”

  He nodded. She made good sense. “I need to do something.”

  Lydia snorted. “Yeah, me too. I need to save this night, but I’m not sure how.”

  “What’s the main problem?” Not that he thought he could help, but he thought it was the least he could do since she’d just done him a solid with Carmichael.

  “We have people poorly matched. Many are getting frustrated. I’m trying to work out a way to help them find the person they might make a connection with.”

  “So you have a room full of people who have the same motive but don’t know how to find each other? Can’t they just look around and see who they are attracted to?” He glanced over to Carmichael who now had her hand on her hip and looked thoroughly angry.

  Lydia snapped her fingers and broke into a wide, happy smile. “Geo, you're brilliant. Now I need to figure out a way to get everyone in front of everyone.”

  “Like a parade of horseflesh going to the highest bidder.” George snorted at his own joke.

  Lydia reared back, eyes large, and then she clapped her hands together with glee. “Yes! Oh, Lizzy will kill me, but desperate times and all that.” She threw her arms around him in a tight hug. “Thanks so much, Geo.”

  Confused, he hugged her back. “Where is your sister anyway?” Now, more than ever, he needed to figure out her connection with Darcy and see if he could exploit it, awful as the idea sounded and made him feel. But being hungry and homeless didn’t make him feel good either so he needed to suck it up buttercup and put a plan into action. Time was wasting.

  Lydia was scanning the room. “We can totally do this,” she said and returned her attention back to him. “Lizzy went off in a tizzy over something someone said to her. I dunno. She’s not been herself for a while. But we don’t have time for that. You see that far table?” She pointed to an empty table. “Go stand there and wait for me.”

  He looked to where she was pointing and looked back confused. “What? Why?”

  “Because you are going to help me save the day. You’re also going to help me make Suzie Carmichael happy with tonight, which will give you the opportunity for her to return the favor. Go.” She pointed to the table.

  George smiled. She was a bossy woman, and he totally dug it. “Okay.” He shrugged, tucked a hand in his pocket, then ambled off to the table. He arrived as a hotel employee was setting up a microphone, having already put out a pitcher of water and a cup. Another employee rolled out a dark blue runner alongside the table. Lydia was lining men up next to the table.

  She came to a pause next to him and was saying something while pulling her hair up into a lose knot on top of her head. He was mesmerized.

  “Does that work for you?” She stuck a pencil through the knot and smiled.

  Crud. He hadn’t heard a thing. “Sure, sounds good.” He shook his head. “Ah, tell me again. Just so I can make sure I got it all.”

  Lydia smiled. “Each guy will come up to you, tell you their name, and a few fun facts. You introduce them and use that sexy voice of yours to convince the ladies to bid on our bachelor.”

  George blinked. “You’re auctioning off the men?”

  “I’m auctioning off time with them while raising money for charities. You were right about getting them in front of people. It’s the only way to save this night.” She elbowed him aside and grabbed the microphone.

  “Excuse me, may I have your attention, please.” Lydia waved her hand in the air. The crowd was mostly woman since the men were now lined up, facing her. “Tonight we are going to do things a little differently. You’ve all had a chance to meet a few people and mingle, but we wanted to give you the chance to meet the others. At Meryton, we take love seriously. We know that what looks like it might work at first glance might not always be the case. Tonight we explore a new option. Ladies, tonight is about you. Our gentlemen are willing to come, stand before you, and be auctioned off.”

  A few people gasped.

  “We have a list of charities here.” She held up a large poster board. Scrawled in a cute, curly script was a list: Meryton Humane Society, Lottie’s Kitchen For Homeless Teens, Meryton Food Bank, and Meryton Women’s Shelter. “We aren’t asking you to dig deep into your pockets. Bidding will start at five dollars. Any money we raise is helpful. What you are bidding on is tapas with our bachelor.” Lydia pointed to an open door where in the next room, hotel staff was busy setting up tables. The lights were low and golden, much like those in a lounge, the setting more casual yet intimate. “To offset your bid, next month’s fees are waived for everyone.”

  Many people applauded.

  “Last bit of the rules. If our bachelor is seeing multiple bidders but is feeling a particular connection with one of them, he can match that woman’s bid and effectively end his auction. Don’t let your feelings get hurt. This is all about first impressions and gut. It’s not personal. So as each man steps up, ask yourself, am I willing to sit across this person and watch him eat finger food?”

  The crowd laughed.

  “All right. Let’s get started. Let me begin by introducing the emcee. Ladies, meet Geo Wickham.
Popular soap star, heartthrob, but is he the bad boy we all know and love? Don’t be fooled by image. You’ll get a chance to explore Geo’s gentle side and learn about his kind heart later tonight. Geo, the mic is yours.”

  She handed him the microphone. He stood tall, reveling in her kind words.

  Chapter Eleven

  Elizabeth knew she couldn’t hide in the restroom all night. Ugh, she hated that Darcy’s presence had sent her seeking refuge. Thankfully, the restrooms in the hotel were high-end and came with a lounge area. There, Elizabeth had dropped her head between her knees and tried not to hyperventilate. It took a while, but her heart finally slowed, the heat from her embarrassment, obvious to all by the bright red of her cheeks, had finally subsided, and the tingly feeling she’d gotten across her body when her eyes met his was gone. Replaced by nausea. What had she done? What was she to do? She was so confused, and seeing Caroline Bingley hanging from Darcy’s arm had only exacerbated the situation and her reaction to it.

  The door to the restroom was pushed open quickly, and Jane stepped into the room. She looked harried.

  “Finally! I have been looking everywhere for you.” She pushed away a dislodged lock of hair fallen from her topknot. Her nostrils flared.

  “Here I am.” Elizabeth spread her hands wide and leaned back against the couch, wishing the night was over. She wanted her comfy pajamas and a pint of ice cream. Or two.

  “What did you say to Lydia?” Jane crossed her arms.

  “She said we had a problem, and I told her to handle it.” When Elizabeth waved her hand dismissively, she noticed it continued to tremble.

  Jane threw her hands in the air with exasperation. “Oh, well that explains it. This is all your fault.”

  Elizabeth narrowed her eyes. “What is my fault?”

  “The bachelor auction that is going on right now. Well, it might be done by now since it took me forever to find you.”

  Elizabeth tilted her head so she could hear clearly. “Come again? A what auction?”

 

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