Reunited: Matchmakers Book 4

by Declan Rhodes

  I sighed when Marshall started to shake his head. “You picked up that machete and hacked a trail to the east without telling your man you were no longer headed north.”

  “So, I should have hung around while he climbed into the arms and bed of another man?”

  “Do your first dates usually end up in bed with you? Of course, there’s always the idea of an open relationship, but that’s another kettle of fish. If he goes on a first date with somebody else, that doesn’t mean you’ve left his mind. In fact, it might show him just how much he loves you when he sees that the new man doesn’t hold a candle to you. Your relationship has already lasted a decade.”

  “No. You’ve got that wrong. We broke up almost ten years ago and only recently started seeing each other again.”

  “Did you ever stop thinking about him?”

  I swallowed hard. I remembered that I tried to tell Blake multiple times that I’d moved on, but Marshall demanded full honesty. “No.”

  “And do you think he ever stopped thinking about you?”

  “No—definitely not.”

  “Then, I have one tiny additional piece of advice.”

  “I’m all ears.”

  Marshall swallowed a mouthful of his beer before he leaned forward and stared directly into my eyes. “Let your man lead. Go along for the ride for a change. Don’t push anything. I predict that he’ll take you both to wondrous and fabulous places.”

  20

  Kenneth

  Sean handed me my third Manhattan of the evening as we curled up on opposite ends of the living room sofa. I’d not drunk enough to lose track of our conversation, but I did feel a substantial buzz. It was enough to tear down my reservations about opening up about my true feelings for Daniel.

  “I’m cutting you off after this one for now. I’d rather not have to pick you up off the floor and carry you to bed.”

  “I can handle my drinks. I haven’t been falling-down drunk since…” The last time was after I broke up with Daniel ten years ago. I went out with friends and got plastered, trying to drive memories of him out of my mind.

  “Since when?”

  I groaned. “Do I have to fess up to that? It was after I broke up with Daniel the last time—a decade ago.”

  “Is it a breakup this time?”

  “I don’t know.”

  “You don’t know?”

  I sipped the Manhattan and then peered down into my glass. “This one is better than the other two. What’d you do differently?”

  “It’s the same. You’re just more intoxicated. That makes it taste better. Your body’s saying—more more more. It has even less sense than you.”

  “Ouch! That hurt. What’d I do now?”

  I pulled my legs up onto the sofa while I listened for Sean’s response.

  “So, tell me about that date. How’s it feel to be dating other people while the one you want waits in the wings?”

  “I called him Daniel.”

  Sean leaned forward. “You didn’t.”

  “I did.”

  “And what did he think about that? Maybe he didn’t know who Daniel is, but still, it’s the first date, and you screw up the guy’s name. If a woman did that with me…”

  “I explained it as natural confusion. He’s David, and Daniel is close by in alphabetical order. I pretended that it was an honest mistake. He told me that he’d been called worse.”

  “We’ve all been called worse, but that doesn’t mean we appreciate the date who forgets our name. Was that the end? Or will he stick around for strikes two and three?”

  I didn’t need to talk more about David, but Sean wanted to know the details. David and I didn’t exchange any messages after the date. It was a second failure for Match Made and my love life. I didn’t think the mismatches were deliberate, but Daniel was the head of the company.

  “It was a mistake, a clouded mind, and he forgave me for it. End of story.”

  “And when’s your second date with David?” asked Sean.

  Sean played interrogator again. “Why do you insist on taking me through the details of a minor disaster like my date with David?”

  “Because I find you fascinating. Why do you think I keep working for you?”

  I knew the answer to that question—a least a significant part of it. “You also like living in a rather luxurious house rent-free, and for the kind of work you do for me, I’m relatively even-tempered and drama-free.”

  “All of that is true, but yeah, I kind of like you, too—but not in that way.”

  “Okay, let’s not head down the warm and fuzzy path tonight. I’ve got a head full of Daniel to drink away.” I leaned forward and held my glass out to Sean’s for a toast. “What are you drinking anyway?”

  “Jack and Coke. I know that it might not meet your well-trained palate’s standards.”

  Our glasses clinked. “We’ve had that discussion more than once.”

  Sean didn’t skip a beat with his questioning, and he started to head toward uncomfortable territory. “Do you have a plan now? Where do you go from here? Is Daniel part of it?”

  “I go to work.”

  “Your love life has come to an end? At age 41?”

  “Oh, you mean that. I don’t have a specific plan. I think maybe I should beat myself up over my lost opportunities with Daniel and wait for another ten years to go by. Meanwhile, I’ll grow my business, get rich, and watch you age.”

  Sean pointed at me. “See, that’s why I stick around. That’s the most ridiculously funny approach to life I’ve ever heard.”

  “It’s worked so far. If I ever get that commercial campaign put together, I think the new products will soar. Maybe we’ll move to Europe.”

  “I’m not holding my breath, but Barcelona is beautiful. Did Daniel help with the commercials? You mentioned that you would ask him.”

  I paused and let the burn of the alcohol slide down my throat. “He turned the project over to Iris. She was the receptionist for Match Made, but Daniel recently made her a full partner in the business along with the co-founder Blake. She sent me a message yesterday that said she had a lead that just might pan out.”

  Sean climbed off the couch and headed for the kitchen. A few seconds later, he returned with glasses of ice water for each of us. “This will help prevent having to deal with unpleasantness from you in the morning.”

  “Thank you. You’re always thinking of my best interests. How much longer will the interrogation continue?”

  “I’m not sure.” Sean set his drink on the coffee table, leaned back, and pulled his knees up toward his chest. “So, what’s the best fish in the sea?”

  “Best fish? What do you mean? Are we moving on and talking about culinary adventures now? I do enjoy seafood.”

  “Yes, if you want to look at it that way. Answer my question. What’s the best fish in the sea?”

  “For me, it has to be grouper. I had it first when I was a little kid, and my family took a vacation to Florida. I was only six, but I still remember the little fishing shack on Key Largo in the Florida Keys. They served it on a paper plate, and I’d never tasted any other fish like it. My mom cringed when I added ketchup, but I was a little boy.”

  “Melt in your mouth, eh?”

  I raised an eyebrow as the conversation continued. Sean was getting at something, but I didn’t know what. My brain was too fuzzy to think hard about his motives for asking the fish question. I decided to play along and continue with details about my experience.

  “That is one way to describe it, but the fish was flaky. It didn’t melt, but that soft, slightly meaty texture along with a perfectly fried crispy breading and the tang of ketchup—it’s about to make my mouth water right now.”

  “I guess I made a good choice a couple of months back when I fried up those grouper filets for our dinner.”

  “I was effusive with my praise— wasn’t I?”

  “You did well enough to let me know that you’d like to have it again.”

 
Sean raised his glass. He swallowed a mouthful of the soda and whiskey blend. By the look in his eyes as he peered over the rim of the glass, I knew that the conversation wasn’t over yet. Sean often dug vital information out of me using a series of questions.

  “So, I say, go fishing.”

  “You want me to pack up a rod and reel and catch a grouper? I need a plane ticket first.”

  Sean laughed out loud and slapped his knee. “Did you do that on purpose? Surely, you knew that I was talking about more than fish.”

  A few seconds later, I finally connected the dots. “You want me to go after Daniel. He’s the big fish.”

  “Why would you settle for cod when you’ve still got a chance at the best fish in the ocean? The last time you made an aggressive move—at the wedding—you ended up with him in your bed.”

  “But he wants to get married. I’m not ready for that.”

  Sean leaned forward. “What are you waiting for? I’m hesitating to make this next comment because I know how sensitive men of a certain age can be.”

  I frowned before he finished.

  “You’re no spring chicken, Kenneth. You know he’s the best man out there for you. Tell me again why you’re waiting.”

  21

  Daniel

  I always felt uncomfortable when I saw my face in the Match Made database. It never seemed to match reality accurately. I held a mirror in one hand next to the computer screen. The photo I used for my profile was less than six months old, but the man I saw in the mirror looked like he’d aged at least five years. It had to be the experience with Kenneth. Stress was getting the best of me.

  The door to my office was slightly ajar. I called, “Blake! Would you get in here, please?” I waited 20 seconds for a reply. “Blake! Where are you?”

  Blake popped his head around the edge of the door. “You need me? What’s up? We’ve only got half an hour before the weekend officially starts. I was busy shutting down.”

  “I thought you’d already stepped out. Yes, I want you to look at something. We’re still on the clock for a few minutes more.”

  “Okay, I fudged a little. It’s like this—Hunter’s talking about moving in together. I hope a proposal comes shortly after. Anyway, he’s talking about pets, too. Hunter sent me a link to a webpage with kittens up for adoption, and they have a live cam showing some of them playing. It’s hard to tear myself away.”

  “You were looking at kittens on work time?”

  “Is that different from daydreaming about future trips and checking plane flight prices to Milan?”

  “No, I guess not. But who…”

  “You had me come in here to help you with that last week. Remember?”

  I’d completely forgotten about my daydreams of Milan, Italy, sparked by an article I read about the Winter Olympics set for there in 2026. Skiers were one of my top cold weather interests. Maybe middle-age was genuinely settling in and causing me to forget things.

  “Okay, forget I said anything about the kittens, but why don’t you get a dog?”

  “Hunter likes the independence of cats. I think it’s because he’s so attached. He’s fascinated by animals that don’t feel that way when they live with others. Or something like that. He’d have to explain it to you. Anyway, what’d you need?”

  I handed Blake the mirror. “Come around here behind the desk. Tell me whether or not you see what I see.”

  Blake stood by my shoulder. “Is this a trick question? I see you. There are two of you. Is that what you see?”

  “But do you see a difference?”

  “One’s live, and one’s a photo.” Blake held the back of his hand to my forehead. “Are you sure you feel okay? I heard there’s a bad cold going around.”

  I grabbed Blake’s hand and pushed it down. “I’m perfectly fine. Look closer. Do I look older in the mirror? I wonder whether I need to update the online photo.”

  Blake put the mirror down on the desk. “Are you thinking of looking for another date in the database? I thought Kenneth was still an open book. Did you hear something from him?”

  “I haven’t heard anything from him. I’m practicing the advice everybody gave me. I’m applying zero pressure. I won’t ignore him if he tries to contact me. Meanwhile, I’m not getting any younger. Maybe I can try the database one more time.”

  “I think you should give it more time. That’s my professional advice.”

  “Are you a counselor now?”

  “Actually, I am. I’m a relationship commencement counselor. I saw that title mentioned on the date broker forum yesterday. It sounds good to me. Since I’ve adopted the title, I think I’m qualified to give professional dating advice.”

  Kenneth had perfect timing. My cellphone chimed with the sound of an incoming text message. I continued to stare at myself on the computer screen and then glanced at Blake’s frowning face.

  “Don’t you think you should check your phone?”

  “I’m not expecting anything. It’s probably just Iris with an Ollie story. She often sends them on Friday afternoon when we’ve wrapped up the week.”

  “Oh, they’re hilarious. Let me see.”

  I let Blake reach over me and grab my phone. I was ready to hit search for my follow-up Match Made option. I thought I had at least a 70% chance that it’d turn out better than Seb.

  Blake shouted, “Wait!” He reached out and grabbed the finger that was hovering over the “enter” key.

  “What? Aren’t you at least a little curious about who Xander will spit out?”

  “It’s a text from Kenneth. I think you should read this first.”

  To my surprise, my hand started to tremble as I reached for the phone. My feelings about Kenneth remained only slightly below surface consciousness. I read the screen:

  “Try one more time? Can I see you?”

  I muttered, “Damn.”

  “Is that a good ‘damn’ or a bad one?”

  I pulled my hands back from the computer keyboard and rotated the monitor to the side. It was a relief to no longer be staring at myself. “It’s good.”

  Blake’s frown slowly turned upside down. He raised a hand for a high-five.

  I slapped Blake’s hand with mine, and I felt something welling up in the corner of my right eye. It was a tear. I tried to fight it back, but I failed. Instead, I wiped at the drops.

  Blake reached out to pat my shoulder. “Aww, go ahead. I love to see happy tears. He’s coming to you, Daniel. This is why you needed to slow down and wait.”

  I spoke slowly and sniffled in between words. “We’ve got another chance. I should take him to that new restaurant down by the river, or maybe seafood on the lakefront. What do you think?”

  “I think you should answer the text message.”

  Reaching for the phone, I formed the words in my head. Before typing, I looked up at Blake. “Which restaurant do you think I should suggest?”

  “I think that message only requires a one-word answer. Do you remember everything we’ve talked about so far? Slow down. Let Kenneth take the lead. Trust him. He can handle it.”

  It only took seconds to type in three letters:

  “Y-E-S”

  The message was slightly longer after I added a smiley-faced emoji at the end. Once the phone was safely resting back on my desk, I took three long, slow, deep breaths.

  “I’m proud of you, Daniel. Now, I think I should say I’m off for the weekend because I think you’ve got a phone call on the way.”

  Blake had barely ducked out of the office when my phone rang. It was Kenneth. After greeting him, I literally sat on one of my hands to remind me to wait and follow instead of leading the conversation.

  “I’m glad that you were happy to hear from me. At least I assume that’s the meaning of the smiley face.”

  “Of course, I’m happy to hear from you. Why wouldn’t I be?”

  “Have you been doing well?”

  Kenneth was rambling and engaged in chit-chat while I wanted to pin dow
n the details for meeting each other. We could talk about the rest of the world in person. The phone was only necessary for setting up our time together. I opened my mouth to make a suggestion and quickly shut it again. I still needed to let Kenneth take the lead.

  “I’m okay. I miss you.”

  I imagined Blake and Iris as a small chorus over my shoulder. They would’ve applauded my quick lines. I made it clear that I wanted to get together, but I left the details up to Kenneth.

  “I miss you, too. I wish we could rewind the last few minutes of our time together at my place. Maybe we both should’ve enjoyed the present instead of talking about the future.”

  I couldn’t stop myself from smiling while I talked with Kenneth. I thought about having him wrapped in my arms. We were looking out the windows of his house watching birds flit from branch to branch.

  I said, “That would be perfect if we could, but I guess we have to deal with reality.”

  “Do you want to get together?”

  “Yes.”

  I was dying to offer a suggestion. Patience was a virtue because it was so difficult. I waited while ten seconds of silence reigned over the phone line.

  Finally, Kenneth spoke. “I have an idea. Today is Friday. Are you free on Sunday?”

  I would have to wait and suffer through an excruciating Saturday, but two days was better than three. “Yes, I’m entirely free.”

  “How about high tea at the Pfister Hotel there in downtown Milwaukee. Believe it or not, I’ve never been there, but I know a lot of people that love it.”

  “It’s a beautiful place, but it’s been years since I’ve had high tea. It’s an outstanding idea.”

  Kenneth’s indecision returned. He asked, “Is that okay? If there’s something else you’d rather do, then let me know.”

  I had other suggestions, but none of them were better than the Pfister option. I thought Kenneth’s plan was the best, and I intended to bolster it.

  “No, there’s nothing else I’d rather do. Your idea is perfect. I’ll dress sweet and sharp and see you there. Once the reservation is made, just send me a text. I can’t wait.”