by Laura Burton
There was silence on the other end of the line for a beat too long, and I frowned at my phone on the dashboard to see if the call was still connected. It was. Maybe I’d driven through a dead zone?
“Mom? Did I lose you?” I asked.
“Dexter Harrington. Have you fallen for your matchmaker?”
I balked. “What? Of course not.”
“Honey, I haven’t heard you talk favorably about a woman in that way since Harumi. Be honest with me. You’re my son, and I know you better than anyone. Has Amy-the-Matchmaker caught your eye?”
I could lie to her, but she’d probably call me out for it. “Mom, it doesn’t matter if Amy has ‘caught my eye.’ I’m sure she catches the eye of every client she has.”
“Well, what is she like? Is she that pretty?”
I immediately wanted to disagree with that phrasing. She wasn’t simply pretty. The first word that came to my mind was beautiful. But she was so much more than that, too. She was kind, smart, funny, and had a sassy attitude that made me want to squeeze her, as dumb as that sounded even in my own mind. She wasn’t into video games or Star Trek or really anything else that I was into, but I didn’t care. Over the last month of getting to know her since our very first coffee date, I’d come to realize that I would talk about anything she wanted to talk about, as long as we were talking. And that probably made me pathetic since it was her job to connect with her clients. She probably didn’t think about our connection any more than any of her other clients.
“She’s great, Mom,” I finally said, having realized that I still hadn’t answered her question. “But again, she’s the matchmaker, not one of my matches.”
“Well, Dex, I have to say. I’m the one paying for this, and if Amy is the one you want, I think you need to go ahead and tell her.”
“Mom, don’t be ridiculous. I’m not going to ask out my matchmaker. She plans dates for me to go on with other women. She doesn’t want to be one of those women.”
“You don’t know that.”
I could just see the expression on my mom’s face, one hand pointing a knowing finger at me and the other hand on her hip.
“Mom, imagine if every client who had a thing for her asked her out. That would be so annoying.”
“Not every client is you, Dex. You’re special.”
I sighed. “You’re my mom. You’ve been telling me how special I was since I was a pimply-faced loser in high school who had no hope of getting a girl.”
“You’ve never been a loser, son. And you’re not that pimply-faced boy anymore. Give it a shot. Like Dad always said, what do you have to lose?”
Amy
“You went on a date with your client?” Claire hissed, glancing nervously around the office. “Are you nuts?”
I waved my hand in front of her face and shushed her. “Girl. Hush. Are you trying to get me fired?”
We got up from the couch in the center of our open-concept office space and scurried into my suite. I closed the heavy glass door behind us and tried to act cool in case anyone had watched us book it out of the common area so fast. Smoothing my pencil skirt as I went, I crossed to my desk and sat across from my best friend. Her mouth was still hanging open, and I glared at her, causing her to close it with an audible snap.
“Okay, so, I didn’t go out on a date with him,” I explained, splaying my hands on my desk between us, trying to ground myself in reality. “His date didn’t go well and his match left. And he invited me to hang out since we were both there and I didn’t have another client for a couple of hours. So, I just finished the date he was already on.”
“You finished the date. With your client.”
“Yes.”
“Your client’s match left, so you stepped in and finished the date.”
I lowered my forehead to the desk. “I know.”
“Amy, you know Julia has a strict rule against dating the clients. Like, even flirting. Remember Sara Smith? She’d been here for years and got booted just for flirting. And you actually had a date with the guy?”
I held up a finger. “She did not get booted just for flirting. That was a whole thing.”
“Fine, long story short, she got booted for having an inappropriate relationship with a client. Which is not allowed. So, the fact that you finished that date with him is mind-blowing to me. What the heck would make you say yes to that invitation? It’s not like it was the first time a client has asked you out.”
Claire was right. If I had a dime for every time one of my clients had turned their attention on me, I wouldn’t have to work another day in my life. And that wasn’t just me being conceited. It was true for all of the matchmakers at First Comes Love. As a general rule, Julia wanted her matchmakers to be energetic, easy-going, entertaining, creative, and well … attractive. It was part of her recipe for success. We’d all had admirers from our client pool because part of our job was to make people like and trust us. If they liked and trusted us, they were more open letting us help them in their romantic endeavors. But as common as it was for our clients to crush on us, we knew better than to let it be a mutual thing. Do that, and you’re out the door. So, what was I thinking spending time with Dex like that? And the texting, too. I couldn’t admit that to Claire. She’d die.
“I don’t know what to say, Claire,” I said, defeated. “He’s just …”
She held up her hand. “If you say ‘different,’ so help me.”
“He is different though,” I insisted. “He’s obviously gorgeous—”
“I will give you that.”
“Thank you. But he’s also smart. And funny. Except, I don’t think he’s trying to be funny. He’s quirky. He’s a total nerd wrapped up inside this big, tough guy. I can see that he’s nervous and shy on this inside but does a really good job playing it off like he’s cool and collected. And that smile. He’s vulnerable. He’s been hurt. But he’s hopeful.”
Claire lowered her head and looked at me with only her eyes. “Uh, hello. Tell me how you really feel. You’re like a teenager with a crush right now.”
I sighed. “I really am.”
“Have you guys kissed?”
“Are you out of your mind? Of course not.”
She put a hand on her heart and looked through the glass wall of my office suite to make sure no one was lingering or watching us. “Oh, I’m out of my mind? You’re the one falling for your client.”
“I can handle this. I won’t actually fall for him. I’ll find a match for him soon and send him on his way, just like I’ve done for every other hot client I’ve ever had. No harm, no foul.”
Claire scooted forward in her chair. “Speaking of foul, don’t look. Belinda is walking this way.”
I swallowed and looked down at the paperwork on my desk, pretending to find something interesting that I had to show Claire. I picked the file up and held it toward her, pointing at something for her to look at and glancing inconspicuously toward the glass. Sure enough, Bibbity-Bobbity-Belinda was making a beeline right for us. We kept up the charade of looking at the file until Belinda stuck her head in.
“Am I interrupting?” she asked, her syrupy tone immediately setting me on edge.
I smiled tightly. “Not at all, come on in.”
Belinda gave me an equally disingenuous smile and entered the room, closing the door behind her. She took a seat in the chair next to Claire and eyed her as if she expected her to leave. Since Belinda had been a matchmaker at the firm since it first started, and as a senior matchmaker for several years now, she had a high-and-mighty attitude that drove the rest of us up the wall. She tended to look at every member of the support staff like they were beneath her, rather than actually making it possible for her to do her job.
I, on the other hand, instantly clicked with Claire when she was hired as my assistant right after I’d been promoted to senior matchmaker. We became best friends immediately. It was like Julia matched us up knowing how well we’d hit it off. Well, actually, I was sure she’d intentional
ly matched us up. Julia probably couldn’t help letting her matchmaker skills bleed into every area of her life. And I was grateful for it. So if Belinda thought I would dismiss her from this meeting, she was wrong.
“How’s it going Belinda?” I asked.
“Fine, thank you,” she replied, again casting her eyes over to Claire as if her presence annoyed her. “Do you have a moment?”
“I do. What’s up?”
The corners of her mouth squeezed into her round cheeks as she looked at Claire again and then back to me. “Bobby just advised me that Lindie Miller is unavailable for the client I had in mind for her because she’s going out with one of your clients instead.”
“I see.” Being that my job required me to deal with many different kinds of people, I was a master at controlling my facial expression when annoyed. And having Belinda in my office whining about the status of a client as if she were a piece of property was definitely annoying.
We had two tiers of services for hopeful singles to choose from. The largest percentage of our dating pool made up the first tier, where Lindie Miller resided. It was a more passive—and affordable—way to use our matchmaking services. These were people who paid a monthly fee to be members of the Singles Club. They could attend company-sponsored mixers, group dates, and even singles vacations for an additional fee. While they weren’t assigned a matchmaker to their individual accounts, Tier One clients were in a pool of clients who we would contact when we had a VIP that we thought would be a good match for them.
The VIP Experience was the second tier. This was the tier that Dex was in, thanks to his mother’s investment. VIP clients could attend all of the same events that the Singles Club members could attend, without the additional fee for the vacation. And they had a dedicated matchmaker who was actively searching the client pool for their perfect match. They got a much more personalized experience and guaranteed match in twelve dates or their money back. Julia had spent years getting to the point of being able to offer that promise to her clients, and to this day, she’d never had to make good on it.
The fact that tier one clients didn’t have a matchmaker assigned to them meant that they were up for grabs if any of us had a VIP match in mind for them. And since Dex’s date with Lindie Miller had somehow gotten flubbed the first time, I wasn’t about to let it happen again.
I waited for Belinda to say more, but when she didn’t, a clasped my hands on my desk between us. “Is there anything else I can help you with?”
“Anything else? No, dear. I’d like you to help me with this issue. Lindie Miller would be absolutely perfect for this client. Surely there’s someone else you can book for your client tomorrow night.”
Ordinarily, when we weren’t in the middle of a fierce competition to become the next CEO of the company, the matchmakers at First Comes Love prided themselves on their ability to collaborate. We were like one big family and our number one priority was happiness for all of our clients, not just the ones personally assigned to us. We didn’t become Southern California’s premier matchmaking service by being stingy with the client pool. If another matchmaker had a client who would be perfect for another client, awesome for everyone. We’d work together to make it happen. Ordinarily.
I cleared my throat. “Sorry, B. Normally I would absolutely work with you on this, but Lindie is just perfect for Dex, and they’ve already had one date messed up by some dumb computer glitch.”
Belinda sat up straighter in her chair. “Oh?”
Claire looked at me out of the corner of her eye, and my jaw clenched. “Yep. Several of my dates were messed up by some kind of network malfunction. I’m surprised you haven’t heard.”
“I may have, but I’ve been so busy,” she replied, patting her hair, then standing to leave. “Well, I suppose if you really insist on Lindie for your client there’s nothing I can do.”
“Sorry,” I said, standing and crossing to the door, opening it for her. “I’ll let you know if they don’t match up, though. Maybe your client will still be looking for a match, too, and it’ll work out.”
Belinda shrugged as she sauntered into the hallway. “I doubt he’ll still be available considering how quickly I usually find matches. Have a good one.”
I curled my lip as she turned her back on me and closed the door behind her. “Ugh, she’s the worst. I seriously don’t understand how she and Julia are so close. They’re nothing alike.”
“Agreed,” Claire said, leaning back in the pink velvet chair. “I hate the way she always pretends I’m invisible. It’s obnoxious. You don’t think she had anything to do with your dates getting messed up, do you?”
I plopped back into my desk chair and sighed. “I considered it, but I thought maybe I was just being paranoid. That would probably take a lot of skill, hacking into the network like that. She doesn’t really strike me as the computer savvy type.”
Claire snorted. “Good point.”
“Do you know how many dates she’s up to for her three clients?” I shouldn’t even ask, but I knew Claire was close with Belinda’s assistant.
She wrinkled her nose. “I talked to Bobby about it in the break room this morning. Two of them are already matched, one to go. Nine dates total between the three.”
I mentally counted my own standings. I’d matched my first of the three competition clients, Bill, on his second date. So that was two dates right there, and a nice, low score to help my overall total. The second client, Deb, was affected by the computer glitch that ruined Dex’s first two dates. Except that it wasn’t the people but the places that got messed up with Deb’s dates. Thanks to that, she and Dex were both about to have their fourth dates. So even if both Deb and Dex matched with their dates for this week, that would still put me at a grand total of ten dates.
I put my head in my hands. “Holy crap. Belinda might beat me.”
“Don’t think like that,” Claire scolded. “You had a rough start with this network thing, which I still think could be Belinda’s doing, but I have faith in you.”
“Thanks, friend.”
I appreciated her faith in me because I couldn’t help but be concerned about my future at First Comes Love. I had a sick feeling in my stomach as I thought about finding matches for my remaining two clients, and it wasn’t just relating to the competition. If I found the perfect match for Dex, would I really be okay with never seeing him again?
Dex
“Um, what are you doing?” Amy hissed as I approached her. “Where’s Lindie?”
We stood on the deck of the boat, just before sunset, and I’d had the good sense to end my date with Lindie before they finished loading passengers.
“We just weren’t meant to be,” I replied with a shrug, tucking my hands in my pockets. “We both agreed not to go through with the date. Wouldn’t want to be stranded on a three-hour tour with the wrong woman, you know?”
“Already? It’s been five minutes.” Amy grabbed my arm, sending a zing through my upper body, and weaved around me like she was going to go after my retreating date.
I spun and caught her around the waist, stopping her, and turning her back around to face me. Our bodies pressed tightly together, the motion sent a wave of her sweet perfume blasting into me. When I registered the forwardness of what I’d just done, I dropped my hand from her hip and stepped back as if she’d burned me. “I’m sorry.”
She let out a surprised breath and smoothed her hands down the front of her floral dress. “It’s … fine. Um … so you and Lindie really didn’t click?”
“Not really, sorry.” Uncomfortable, I brought my hand up to scratch the back of my neck.
I couldn’t help but notice the way her gaze followed my movement and landed on my bicep as the muscles strained against my black T-shirt. After all the time I’ve spent working on my fitness so I wouldn’t be the scrawny kid, or the wimp who got bullied by the tough guys, it was interesting to imagine how my physical appearance looked to women. They were never the reason I cared about being bu
ilt. It was just a self-preservation thing initially, and then it became a personal challenge to constantly maintain and improve myself using science and nutrition.
Harumi had been attracted to me, sure, but I usually wasn’t close enough to the dating world to notice how other women saw me. That is, until this past month as a client of Amy’s. And yet, even though I’d noticed the other women appraising my appearance, I hadn’t really cared about them doing it as much as I loved watching the way her eyes sometimes lingered too long. It sent chills over me wherever her gaze landed.
“Huh.” She looked over the rail of the vessel, her eyes following Lindie’s retreating form as she quickly walked down the dock toward the parking lot. “I was so sure about her. She was supposed to be your first match, you know. Before the computer thing.”
I felt bad for implying that Lindie and I hadn’t clicked. Amy was good at her job. In just five minutes with Lindie, I could already tell that we probably would have been a good match. But after talking to my mom about Amy, I’d made the decision to sabotage my next date so I could spend more time with her instead. But I wasn’t a liar, and I didn’t plan to manipulate her.
“Honestly,” I started, taking a deep breath and hoping for the best, “I kind of told her I wasn’t interested. So, when I said we both agreed not to go through with the date, it was because, well, why bother if I wasn’t interested … right?”
Amy’s mouth popped open, and I wouldn’t be surprised if literal steam started pouring out from her ears like a cartoon coyote. “You did what?”
“I told her I wasn’t interested.” I crossed my arms over my chest, standing my ground, though I was actually shaking in my boots. It was now or never. Do or die.
