Match Me by Christmas

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Match Me by Christmas Page 2

by Armstrong, Lindzee


  Kendra gave Natalie a knowing smile. “You’ve been talking to Tamera. She was so promising at first, but quite skeptical about the whole process by the end.”

  Natalie hadn’t been talking to her future sister-in-law, actually, but she decided to let that go. “You have to admit, a week seems pretty quick.”

  “Falling in love isn’t about time—it’s about compatibility. In my four years of matchmaking, I’ve found that around sixty percent of couples who end up together long term put their files on hold within three dates.”

  “Wow. That high a number?” Natalie dug in her purse, producing a notepad and pen. “Do you mind if I write some of these facts down?”

  “Not at all,” Kendra said.

  “Great.” Natalie jotted down a few notes. “Now, what else can you tell me about Toujour?”

  CHAPTER TWO

  Shawn shut his cabin door forcefully behind him, his bad leg already throbbing. He flipped on the light, illuminating the tiny living room and kitchenette. His bedroom was barely big enough to hold both a bed and a closet, while the bathroom boasted almost no counter space. But it was his alone—a luxury he’d enjoyed since making the leap from crew to staff. He’d take his microscopic cabin over a bunk in the crew quarters any day.

  He pulled his shirt away from his skin with a groan. Pizza sauce and ranch dressing seeped through the thin cotton, and sticky fruit juice plastered the fabric to his skin. After a decade spent on the Ocean Dream, he’d come to expect the unexpected. But he’d been totally unprepared for the tall woman with sandy blonde hair to knock him off his feet. Literally. He gingerly straightened his leg, feeling the familiar ache deep down in his bones from all the hardware. He’d ice it tonight before bed. This week was not the one for his old injury to act up.

  Why couldn’t the woman have paid better attention to where she was going? She’d had the look of wide-eyed wonder all first time cruisers held. And he was going to be late to his meeting with Brooke because of it.

  Shawn glanced at his watch, agitation making the movement jerky. There really wasn’t time for a shower—he was supposed to meet Brooke in less than thirty minutes—but he’d have to make time. What was that saying—you never got a second chance to make a first impression? If there was one thing he couldn’t afford today, it was a bad first impression.

  His boss, the ship’s cruise director, had been practically giddy with glee when he approached Shawn three months ago and told him that Toujour had picked the Ocean Dream for their first-ever cruise. “Do whatever necessary to make sure we’re their ship of choice for all Toujour cruises,” Mike had said. As VIP Coordinator aboard the Ocean Dream, Shawn was responsible for specialty groups and especially important guests. Landing a permanent contract with Toujour would mean a lot of publicity and money for the Ocean Dream. Which was why Mike had promised Shawn a hefty bonus if he convinced Toujour to sign one.

  A bonus that would finally give Shawn enough for the down payment on a small office space in Sunset Plains. He could finally open up his travel agency.

  He could finally go home.

  After a quick shower, Shawn picked a dark blue shirt with the cruise ship logo and tan slacks. Hopefully no more food mishaps were in his future and he was safe with the color choice. He gave himself a quick once-over in the mirror, making sure he looked presentable. The meeting with Brooke was a formality, since the itinerary for the next eight days had been solidified weeks ago. But it would also be the first time they’d meet in person. Not only was Brooke in charge of Toujour’s Los Angeles office, she was the wife of billionaire Luke Ryder, who happened to own one of Shawn’s favorite football teams. No pressure.

  A ding sounded from Shawn’s laptop in the corner. He glanced again at his watch, then growled and headed to the computer. He didn’t have time to check an email, but he wouldn’t be able to concentrate on the meeting if he didn’t. What if it was from his real estate agent back in Sunset Plains? Shawn was terrified that someone else would make an offer on the small brick storefront on Main Street before he had a chance to scrounge together the rest of the down payment. Unlikely in a town of only five thousand people—the same size as the cruise ship—but it was still something that kept him up at night. Because he really, really wanted to go home. He was tired of spending months at sea and never having a permanent address. He wanted Friday nights spent at the high school football games and Sunday dinners with his family. He wanted to go grocery shopping and know the cashier by name. He wanted familiarity. A family. At thirty-three years old, it was past time to settle down.

  Shawn clicked open his email and realized it wasn’t from the title company or his real estate agent. Instead, it was an email from the designer he’d hired to create a company logo. Shawn opened the file and his breath caught. Erickson Travel Agency—not a particularly imaginative name, perhaps, but it was his and he was proud of it. The solid block lettering was bold, the lines clean and modern. He could already envision the sign hanging on the coffee-colored brick all the buildings on Main Street boasted. See the logo painted on the glass front door.

  Ironically, it had been his sister’s failed wedding six months ago that convinced Shawn it was finally time to come back. It was the first time he’d been home in a few years, and the peace and familiarity had wrapped around his heart and not let go. Shawn had been working toward his goal of returning ever since.

  Soon, he promised himself. But showing up late to his appointment with Brooke wouldn’t be a great start to the week, so he closed the email and headed to her suite on the far end of the ship.

  The hallways were filled with crew members stowing luggage in guest cabins. Shawn smiled at the familiar faces and nodded in greeting, but didn’t stop to chat. He knew he’d reached the high-end suites when the hallways widened, and the crew members disappeared. These rooms had been taken care of hours ago, and unlike the rest of the ship’s guests, their tenants were already comfortably enjoying the amenities offered inside their rooms.

  Shawn knocked tentatively on the door of the presidential suite, the ship’s largest and most opulent room. It opened a moment later, revealing a woman with dark hair pulled up in a bun. Shawn had known that Brooke and Luke Ryder were young, but the youthful face staring up at him, free of makeup and dusted with freckles, still surprised him. A small baby was strapped to her chest with some kind of scarf.

  Younger than him, and already enjoying a husband and daughter. Shawn swallowed hard. He’d wasted so many years stuck on this ship, wallowing over lost dreams when he could have been chasing new ones.

  “You must be Shawn,” the woman said with a friendly smile.

  He held out a hand and she shook it. “Yes. Nice to meet you, Brooke.”

  “You as well. Please, come in.”

  Shawn nodded and followed her into the suite. The first time he’d entered this room, he’d been newly promoted from cabin steward to hospitality manager and had been dealing with a complaint. When he’d walked into the room, he’d immediately wondered what the family staying in the cabin could possibly have to complain about. Luxury and excess seeped from every inch of the place. From the private balcony with a hot tub to the grand piano in one corner of the living room, this suite was made for high rollers. But over the years he’d grown used to visiting various guests here as he ensured their vacations were perfect.

  The balcony door slid shut, and a man appeared. He was tall, with a full head of dark hair. “Looks like we’re getting ready to set sail,” he said before his eyes landed on Shawn. “Oh, I didn’t realize someone was here.”

  “Luke, this is Shawn,” Brooke said. “Shawn, this is my husband, Luke.”

  The billionaire CEO of the world’s foremost tech company. He owned a basketball and a football team. And he was still in his twenties. Shawn swallowed back regret and held out a hand. A military career would’ve never made him wealthy, but it would’ve made him proud. Not that there was anything wrong with working on a cruise ship, but it wasn’t the life Shaw
n had wanted. “Nice to meet you.”

  “You as well,” Luke said, returning the handshake. “Please, sit down.”

  Shawn nodded and sank onto the couch across from the couple. Brooke nestled against Luke’s side on the white linen couch littered with empty baby bottles and scrunched up burp rags. “I can’t tell you how excited I am for this week,” Brooke said. She looked up at Luke, who smiled down at her. “I had the idea for this cruise months ago, but Luke insisted we wait to do the first one until after Grace was born. I think it’s better this way, though. The holidays can be so hard for those looking for love.”

  “Holiday cruises are always popular with the guests,” Shawn said. “I think you’ll be very pleased with what Ocean Dreams can offer Toujour this week. I personally met with the crew that’s been assigned to Toujour this morning to make sure we’re all on the same page. I briefed them on your preferred dating protocol, and right now they’re hard at work getting the banquet room ready for tonight’s welcome dinner.”

  “Excellent.” Brooke patted the baby’s back almost absently, her ankles crossed. He’d never seen a new mom in a business skirt and top, or a billionaire in a T-shirt and jeans. The Ryders were nothing like Shawn had expected. “I’m meeting with all of my matchmakers in an hour to go over a few last details before the welcome dinner. I think I’ve decided against assigned seating for the first meal. I want to see how couples naturally pair up. A week isn’t much to work with, and my matchmakers can observe the connections being formed and then use that information during the rest of the week. For dinner tonight, let’s use round tables, big enough to seat six or eight. Is it too late for that? I know we originally talked about small tables set for two and assigned seating.”

  Shawn was already mentally rearranging the banquet room. He’d have to radio his crew as soon as he left the presidential suite so they could make the change. But he didn’t let the stress this change would cause show on his face. “Not at all. I’ll make sure the bigger tables are set up, and let the maître d’ know it’s open seating tonight.”

  “See?” Luke patted Brooke’s leg. “Shawn’s got everything under control. Relax. This week is going to be fantastic.”

  “I hope so.” Brooke shifted, and the baby grunted in her sleep. “I have complete faith in you, Shawn. I’m just nervous because this whole thing was sort of my brain child. Charlotte—that’s the owner of Toujour—was a little hesitant, but I finally convinced her the cruise was a good move. I really don’t want to let her down.”

  “You won’t.” Shawn infused his voice with confidence. “I’ve spent the last five years making sure specialty groups like Toujour have a dream vacation. Your clients will be praising this cruise to all their friends, and you’ll have people rushing to sign up for the next one.”

  “I hope so,” Brooke said. “I think my biggest concern at this point is the celebrity clients. They all have potential matches not only with each other, but with other people in the group. However, I know from past experience that sometimes Average Joes can lose their minds when they encounter a celebrity and do things that are out of character.” She gave Luke a knowing smile, as though remembering something from long ago. Shawn had spent most of the last decade on the ocean without frequent internet access—and he used the times he did have internet to check scores on his favorite teams—so he wasn’t sure if these events had shown up in the media. “I’ve got my matchmakers all briefed on the situation. But could you also be on the lookout for any celebrities in distress who need help escaping an over-eager fan?”

  “Absolutely,” Shawn said. “We have twenty-two of them, correct?”

  “Oh! That’s right, you don’t know.”

  Shawn’s body tensed, and his sore leg ached in protest.

  “We’ve added another celebrity,” Brooke continued. The baby started grunting, and she patted her back rhythmically. “Jase Larson. Do you know him? Anyway, he’s preparing for an upcoming role—a rom-com about a singles cruise. He’ll be here in an observational capacity, but he’s agreed to throw us some good PR in exchange for his presence.”

  That made Shawn smile. He did know of Jase Larson. His films were favorites in the cruise movie theater. Having a Hollywood heartthrob tweeting about the Ocean Dream would make Shawn’s boss very happy. “Any specific needs I should be aware of?”

  “No. Jase said he doesn’t want to interfere with the cruise, just observe. I get the impression he’s a pretty down-to-earth guy. He typically has a more hands-on approach to his acting, but of course I said it was out of the question in this circumstance. I can’t have my clients falling for someone who isn’t looking for a relationship.”

  “Of course,” Shawn said. He supposed that would be bad for business.

  “None of the Toujour clients know about the celebrity guests. The welcome dinner tonight will be the first time everyone meets. I just want everything to go smoothly.”

  “I’ll make certain that it does,” Shawn said. And if they ever finished this meeting, he’d get to work making that happen.

  The baby began to fuss, and Brooke stuck a pacifier in the infant’s mouth. She glanced at Luke, nose scrunched up. “I feel like I’m forgetting something.”

  “Natalie,” Luke prompted.

  “Oh, that’s right.” Brooke lifted the baby out of the wrap and handed her to Luke. “We’ve added a reporter to the group as well. Natalie James.”

  Another addition? Shawn resisted the urge to wipe his sweaty palms on his slacks. “Okay. Is there anything in particular I should watch out for with her? Anywhere you don’t want her snooping?”

  “What? No.” Brooke raised on eyebrow. “I’m not worried. Natalie is writing a piece for a travel magazine, which is an untapped market for us at Toujour. I think it’ll be great to help get the word out about our services to a wider audience. Charlotte’s hoping to open a few more Toujour offices in the States over the next year. Answer any questions that Natalie has, and give her free run of the place. She comes with excellent references.”

  “Natalie’s the sister of one of my football players,” Luke said.

  The name clicked into place and his eyes widened. “Wyatt James?”

  Luke nodded.

  “Wow. Okay.” Shawn ran a hand over his short buzzed hair. James was a legend in the football world.

  Brooke shot Luke a look that made the man grin. “Wyatt’s fiancée is also a former client of Toujour,” Brooke said. “So we trust Natalie implicitly. She’ll give us a rave review in the article, I’m sure.”

  A movie star and a reporter on board the ship. Mike was going to jump with joy when he found out about this. Shawn could almost taste that bonus.

  “I think that’s it.” Brooke and Luke both rose, and Shawn did so as well. “Thank you so much for all of your help, Shawn. Please, if you have any questions, feel free to call the cabin, day or night.”

  “Don’t call before six a.m.,” Luke said. “Or after midnight.”

  Brooke fixed her husband with a glare as they all walked toward the front door. “Day or night.”

  Shawn paused, holding out a hand to both of them again. “Don’t worry about a thing. Toujour is in excellent hands.”

  Two hours later found Shawn in the banquet hall, relaying instructions to the crew. He’d helped them put away all the small round tables and replace them with larger ones, just as Brooke had requested. She’d explained that everyone on the cruise had a minimum of five potential matches, and attendees would switch tables daily as they rotated between potential partners. The whole thing sounded like a load of boo-hooky to Shawn, but who was he to bite the hand that fed him?

  Maybe he should swallow his pride and ask Brooke for some pointers, since he wouldn’t mind a relationship of his own once he got back on land. It had been a long time since Shawn had really dated. There weren’t a lot of options on a cruise ship.

  Time flew by as Shawn adjusted tablecloths, inspected place settings, and made sure all the candle centerpieces w
ere lit. Dozens of small tasks were up to Shawn—making sure the microphone worked at the front of the room, tasting the food to ensure nothing was amiss with the menu, talking with the bartender about when to cut off a guest’s alcohol intake. Brooke didn’t want her clients tipsy. Apparently, finding love required a clear head. If even the smallest detail was awry, the blame would rest squarely on Shawn’s shoulders.

  Guests began entering the room, looking nervous but excited in their cocktail dresses and silk ties. Shawn took a deep breath. Show time.

  The maître d’ welcomed the guests at the door, while Brooke hugged each client and thanked them for coming. The baby was nowhere to be seen, and Shawn guessed she was with Luke back in the suite. Shawn pointed to the waiters standing with trays of champagne and hors d’oeuvre along one wall, silently signaling them to begin circulating. He recognized a few of the matchmakers circling the room, laughing with the guests and introducing clients to each other. Shawn noticed a candle had flickered out on a table near the front, and whispered to a waiter to relight it.

  Noise filled the room as more guests arrived. Shawn stood in a shadowed corner of the room, observing the new guests and his waitstaff at work. Observing was the first thing he did with any new group. It was a great way to spot the troublemakers, and hopefully head them off before major problems arose. There were always a few guests in every group who couldn’t seem to help themselves and complained about everything.

  Seriously, how had he ended up here? Shawn scanned the room, trying to pick out the celebrity clients specifically. Past experience told him the rich and famous were tough to please. He’d wanted to be a Navy SEAL, not a glorified assistant cruise director. But that car accident almost fifteen years ago had changed everything.

  Jase entered the room, his height making him instantly recognizable. He was trailed by a petite woman with bubble-gum pink hair. It took longer for Shawn to place her—a pop singer known simply as Skye, no last name needed. The haughty tilt of her head made him instantly wary. He would personally introduce himself to each celebrity before the night was over and order a complimentary bottle of wine to be sent to each of their rooms. Celebrities weren’t only the most challenging guests to keep happy, they were also the the most dangerous if they decided to publicly voice their displeasure. And Shawn couldn’t afford any bad press on this trip. Not if he wanted that bonus.

 

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