An Elegant Solution: Arranged Marriage Romance

by Rocklyn Ryder

  She's got my matches narrowed down and she wanted to give me the news and let me know that she'll be contacting my team members so they can start interviewing and make the final decision.

  This is the part that has had me on edge all day.

  My "team" is Aunt Vera and Mom. Raven would prefer at least one more person on the team, she says she likes to have a tie breaker vote and really likes a co-ed team, but Vera is paying Raven's fee and Vera can be very persuasive when she really wants to be.

  Raven and I discussed my particular situation at length in the beginning. She had a lot to say about my step aunt and her plans to marry me off without having discussed it with me first.

  I was sure Raven was going to reject my application after talking to me, actually. Since it hadn't been my idea and I'm not interested in getting married. In fact, I suggested that she might want to just let Vera know that I wasn't a good candidate for a match and that would probably just make it easier on everyone.

  Instead, Raven suggested I go through with the process.

  Maybe she's in it for the money, I don't know. Although, she does say she'll refund a fee if a match is unsuccessful or can't be made. So who really knows what her motivation is?

  What I do know is that there's something about Raven that makes me trust her. Like she knows what she's doing, has everything under control, and I don't have to stress about anything.

  So I let her go through with it. I answered all the new questions she asked, and the next thing I knew, we were comparing stories of how terrible high school was and I was telling her all about design school and the new business and how excited I am about a new contract I just got.

  Now, I'm trusting her to let my crazy, pretentious socialite step-aunt and my mother pick the right man for me out of the prospects that Raven has narrowed it down to.

  I'm trusting Raven to have found me potential matches that aren't in a hurry to put a ring on my finger. Men who are self entertaining, independent, and can handle a career driven woman.

  Men who are not what Aunt Vera and Mom are looking for.

  I shouldn't be surprised that Mom is so excited but somehow I still am. I guess I also shouldn't be surprised that she and Aunt Vera have already decided who my ideal mate is. If there's one thing to be said about Vera, the woman is a decision maker.

  Not always the best decision maker-- but she can make up her mind like no one I know.

  "We're pretty sure we found someone for you," Mom tells me proudly, sounding like she expects me to be thrilled.

  Mom and I have talked about this thing a number of times. She says she understands where I'm coming from, but I'm not so sure she really does.

  My dad was killed in a traffic accident when I was still really young. I don't really remember him at all.

  I do remember it being just me and Mom for a while and then she met Stan and then everything changed.

  Mom's that woman who always wanted to just be a wife and a mom. That was her dream. She would have liked to have had more kids and she and Stan tried for a long time but it just never worked out.

  She's been talking about grand kids since I was 10. Like seriously, I was 10 years old and I remember her washing and packing away a box full of my baby clothes, telling me she was going to save them for her grand children to wear some day.

  Of course, when I was 10 I shrugged that off. It sounded perfectly reasonable to me then.

  About the time I graduated high school, I had to sit down and have a serious conversation with her about getting a little crazy.

  I'm an only child, if Mom's getting grand children, they have to come from me and I needed her to know that I had a lot of other things on my to-do list that had higher priority.

  Mom's supportive of me pursuing my dreams, but I know she wants grand kids. Possibly badly enough that she would consider having me kidnapped and impregnated against my will.

  Hmm...well, hopefully not that badly. But badly.

  Aunt Vera just thinks I'm getting "old." That if I don't get married soon, I will be an unmarriable old maid. I think she's trying to save me from her own fate. She runs in a circle where it's still a little suspicious to have never married and no matter how much money she's made for herself over her lifetime, her cronies still look down their noses at her.

  "Really? That was fast," I answer.

  "Well Raven really does the hard part," Mom tells me flippantly, like it didn't take putting any thought into the process.

  Maybe they just flipped a coin?

  Or rock/paper/scissored for it?

  "Gee, Mom, try to sound like you're taking this seriously," I push a cherry tomato around the bottom of my salad bowl.

  "Why?" Mom snaps, "It's not like you are."

  Ouch. She's got a point there, doesn't she?

  I feel my shoulders sag and I look up at my mother who is fixing me with that universal Mom glare.

  "Mom," I give it yet another try, "You do realize how crazy this is, right?"

  Mom gives me a not exactly apologetic shrug.

  "People don't use match makers anymore," I explain like it's news to her, "Parents don't arrange marriages for their children anymore...not these days, not here."

  "Ms. Swann is highly sought after. She has clients all over the world and an excellent reputation for what she does." Mom sounds like she's reciting a script for a Raven Swann commercial, "A lot of people need a little help finding their perfect match, there's no shame in letting the people who know you best help you out."

  I roll my eyes even though it makes me feel like a teenager. If I was going to let a team of "the people who know me best" pick out my husband for me, it wouldn't include Aunt Vera. It might not include Mom, now that I think about it.

  Then again, the people who know me best are unlikely to go looking for a husband for me, maybe a good lay, but definitely nothing long term. Because the people who "know me best" know me.

  "You told Ms. Swann you were interested," Mom guilts me, "You promised us all that you'd at least keep an open mind about this. It's not like you have to marry the man."

  This might be the first time I've heard Mom admit that she understands the final decision is in my hands.

  I relax a little.

  "Besides, his team hasn't even talked to you yet," she says nonchalantly as she returns her attention to her own lunch, "There's still a chance that they won't approve of you."

  Oh no. My own mother did not just throw that challenge out there.

  I should be above it, I really should, but damn if her little jab doesn't land just where she meant it to.

  "So," I choose my words carefully, trying not to let on that Mom just scored a major win, "when should I expect to hear from this guy's 'team?'"

  And who is he, what does he look like, what does he do for a living, why is he paying Raven to find him a wife, where does he live, does he have any fucking clue what he's getting into? Thousands of questions pour into my mind and somehow I manage to keep them from pouring out of my mouth.

  From what I remember of some of my more inquisitive conversations with Raven, I expected to be hearing from team members of the guys that she matched me with at the same time that my own team was interviewing. I haven't heard from anyone.

  A pang of self doubt stabs through me. Does that mean the people choosing a wife for the men Raven matched me to don't think I'm right for their loved ones?

  I assume most people don't get thrown into this by well-meaning but overbearing family members like Aunt Vera, but rather go into this process voluntarily. That their teams are comprised of people they love and trust, who take their duties as arranged marriage consultants seriously.

  What if those people are looking over my profile and tossing it aside?

  Damn my competitive spirit.

  This is the exact reason I can't bid on anything on Ebay-- I can't stand not winning.

  Michael

  "Just don't tell Jeremy, promise?"

  My mother cackles in the back gro
und.

  "How long are you planning on keeping this from your brother?" Dad's voice is tight with his own efforts not to join Mom in her laughter.

  My folks think this is a riot.

  "Sweetie," my mom's voice gets closer to the phone, I hate being on speaker phone, but my folks love it, "we think it's wonderful that you're ready to settle down, we'll help out any way we can."

  "Thanks, Mom."

  It took me a long time to break down and fill the parentals in on what I was up to, but after a couple months of talks with Raven it finally got to the point where she needed to know who my "team" was.

  After submitting my application I kinda forgot about it. What I didn't forget about was Sandra dumping me. Even though we were never supposed to be a thing and I was planning on dumping her. Still, it hit me hard to hear that she couldn't take me seriously.

  I talked to a few of the girls at work and they all laughed when I asked if they could see me in a serious relationship.

  Apparently Jeremy's right-- I have a reputation.

  A year ago-- hell! A couple of months ago!-- I'd have taken pride in that. Now though, I don't know, it's holding me back.

  I mean, sure, I've done some dating. Settling down was never on the radar-- love, marriage, kids, all that shit. Now though? Yeah, it sounds pretty good.

  It's been a hell of a kick in the gut coming to grips with that, but there it is.

  So when I got a call from Raven's assistant to let me know that my application had been reviewed and accepted I was surprised.

  Like, every one I know has been telling me they don't think I have it in me to ever settle down, and here's this person on the other side of the country who makes a living out of getting people married off and she's telling me there's some fucking hope for me after all.

  Then I got to fill out that "invasive" and possibly "offensive" questionnaire and damn if that disclaimer didn't come anywhere near preparing me for some of the things she asked!

  I guess I get it, I mean, if you're really trying to make sure people are compatible, you gotta know a lot about 'em.

  Yesterday Raven called to tell me she's got a couple of women that she thinks might be prospective matches for me.

  She needed to know who my "team" is.

  Well shit.

  I didn't even think I was all that serious. Even after giving the woman my credit card number a few weeks ago. And Raven Swann's services don't come cheap, let me tell you.

  Now I'm on the phone with my parents, bringing them up to speed. Because last week I was talking to a woman from California that wants me to meet her niece.

  No. Not exactly, she wants me to marry her niece.

  So Raven's call yesterday was a push to put her in touch with my people so they can decide if this lady's niece is right for me too.

  "I just don't want Jeremy to know what's going on till it's over," I explain to Dad. He's right, this is a hell of a process to go through, if things work out and I end up in something serious after this, it's going to be tough to tell the rest of the family that I met my woman the old fashioned way.

  I just don't want to hear my brother's razzing in the meantime.

  Mom and Dad are my first choices for this team I need. Probably the only people on the planet that are likely to give me a fair shake and set me up with a woman who'd actually make a good wife and fit in with our family.

  Of course, Greg and Leeza from work are on the team too. Greg's gay as fuck but he's still a guy. He's known me since I started in this business and he knows what I go for in women-- he also knows where I always fuck up with women. I should have been taking the unsolicited advice he's been giving me about my dating life for the last 5 years.

  And Leeza's a chick. She's got that chick intuition thing going on for her. She's always the one that can predict how people are going to act.

  Leeza and Greg also won't tell a damn soul what I'm doing and when I ran it by them earlier, they're both excited as hell to hear I'm looking for a wife.

  Maybe.

  Maybe I'm looking for a wife.

  Something serious, sure. Something solid that could turn into something permanent down the road.

  I know Raven is all about the vows. She doesn't sugar coat it, her end game is getting her clients to the altar.

  It's still up to me. Me and whoever I end up getting set up with. If we want to date for awhile, that's up to us. If we want a longass engagement, we can do that.

  Mom and Dad are great. I knew they would be. Dad's still not clear on what he just agreed to, but Mom promises to explain it to him as she makes kissing noises at the phone and tells me she loves me and how proud of me she is before we end the call.

  Now all I have to do is sit back and wait to hear from my team to find out whether or not I'm headed to California.

  God knows, this Vera woman that I've been talking to-- I shake my head as I think back on some of the conversations I had with her-- she's hell bent on finding a husband for her niece. I talked to the chick's mom a little too, but it's pretty obvious that the aunt is the one running the show.

  I couldn't get much of a feel for what the niece is like, what she's looking for in a man, or why she decided to sign up with Raven to begin with.

  What I do know is that her aunt is a piece of work. Too old to still be dying her hair that color, and dripping in gaudy jewelry. More concerned with what I do than who I am, like she's less concerned about making sure her niece lives happily ever after than she is with what her friends are going to think of her new nephew-in-law.

  Which is another reason why I made damn sure that the people backing me up are solid. Since I'm not the one that gets to interview this niece, I have to make sure I can trust the people who do. 'Cause if she's anything like her aunt, I can already say I'm not interested.

  But there are couple of other clients that Raven thinks might work for me too-- so at least I know I'm not hopeless after all.

  Alicia

  "He's a what?"

  Tabby's helping lay out fabric samples that I plan on showing to the client I have coming in later.

  She's been listening to me nervously spill my guts on the whole match maker thing.

  It was one thing when Mom told me she and Aunt Vera had picked their favorite bachelor to sell me off to. It was still easy enough to brush it off as a crazy scheme or a cruel joke.

  Then I got a call from a very nice couple back east who were checking up on me for their son. Sweetest people, and obviously very excited about the prospect of getting a new daughter in law.

  It was less interview than getting an earful of their son's shenanigans growing up. I had to look at baby pictures and high school graduation photos. It was exactly like meeting a boyfriend's parents. By the time my first conversation with Georgia and Harold ended, I felt like I was already expected for Christmas.

  That turned into a few more conversations with them and several calls from a Leeza and a Greg that work with Georgia's son, Michael.

  Michael is supposed to be in California tomorrow morning and we are schedule to go out-- with Mom and Aunt Vera chaperoning-- tomorrow evening.

  "A sommelier," I repeat to Tabby.

  I don't know much about Michael yet, other than everything his mother could think to tell me, but I know what he does for a living and that, according to his co-workers, his decision to settle down has taken his friends by surprise.

  "Like a wine guy?" Tabby scrunches up her nose in obvious disapproval.

  "Yeah, what's wrong with that?"

  Tab shrugs dismissively and goes back to laying out the swatches, "Nothing, I guess, it's just that nothing about 'sommelier' says 'good, hard fuck.' You know?" She looks back up and gives me a devilish grin.

  I laugh. Leave it to my 23 year old assistant to be more concerned about what a man brings to the bedroom than what he brings to the table.

  I don't tell her I have similar concerns.

  Not that sex is my first priority in a relationship. I mean-- n
ot that I'm even 100 percent on this relationship business to begin with. I need a man who can handle me working outside the home. None of this possessive caveman bullshit.

  I need a man who's willing to share the house hold duties and isn't in a hurry to make babies. Maybe a man that isn't in a hurry to even get married, which seems like a lot to ask for when we'll be meeting through a professional marriage broker.

  Maybe I already have enough deal breakers on the list to add hot sex? I don't need hot, wild, bone rattling, or even mind blowing. I just need good. And often. Oh who am I kidding? Bone rattling is definitely what I need.

  I don't share that with Tabby. She doesn't need to know how long it's been since I was getting laid on a regular basis, or how bad I could use exactly what she's suggesting this Michael guy probably isn't.

  Michael

  Nice Rack.

  That's the first thing that goes through my mind when I see her.

  OK, it's not the first thing that goes through my mind, just the first words. The first thing that actually goes through my brain is an image of those epic titties wrapped about my cock while her little pink tongue slips against the tip while I slide between her tits.

  "Oh! Michael, sweetie!" Vera busts out of the small group of women and runs toward me. Before I can defend myself the older woman has me trapped in her arms, squeezing the air out of my lungs while I'm still staring at what I presume is her niece.

  The upside to getting accosted by Vera is that it kills the hard on that was growing at the site of her niece.

  I recognize Rhonda, and I try to return her apologetic smile as I make an awkward escape from Vera's over enthusiastic-- and slightly inappropriate-- greeting.

  "Michael." Rhonda steps forward and extends her hand.

  Her greeting feels too impersonal, considering how much we've talked and the reasons we're all meeting today.

  I pull my would-be mother in law into a friendly, but brief, hug. "Hi Rhonda."

  I like Rhonda. She's so much quieter than her sister in law, keeping to the back ground in all our conversations and letting Vera take the lead. Still, it's obvious that Rhonda loves her daughter and has her best interests at heart-- although she has confessed in the emails we've shared privately that her daughter might not agree with that assessment.