Miss Match

by Lindzee Armstrong

  “Brooke arranges the first date, and afterward each client meets with their matchmaker to discuss how things went. If both parties are interested, you proceed to a second date, and so on. Once the couple deems themselves exclusive, their files go on hold until the relationship proves viable or dissolves.”

  She spoke of love so scientifically, like matching up the right formulas. Already Luke dreaded the process. He knew how to deal with barfly types. He picked them up at clubs for one-night stands all the time, providing he was drunk enough. But serious women looking for a serious relationship? That he wasn’t familiar with. And to be honest, he wasn’t sure how to handle it. Or how to avoid getting too serious. What exactly was “too serious?” Now that he thought about it, he wasn’t sure.

  “Brooke will be there to guide you through every step of the process,” Charlotte said. “And as you yourself point out, she’s the best.”

  Brooke’s cheeks stained red, but she didn’t refute Charlotte’s claim.

  “I can’t wait to get started,” Luke lied. “I’ll get this over to legal immediately.”

  “Thank you,” Charlotte said. “I’ll follow your case closely. You are my first priority right now.”

  Luke barely avoided shivering. He didn’t know if he should feel like a valued customer or stalked celebrity. How did Brooke work matchmaking day in and day out?

  You’ll find out soon enough. He’d probably be on his first date by the weekend.

  *

  “Snitch is arriving.” Talia’s voice was all the warning Luke had before Mitch burst into the apartment.

  “You’re signing with a matchmaker?” Mitch held a folder in the air as evidence. “And not with just any matchmaker, but with Brooke Pierce? Your best friend and the girl you’re head over heels for?”

  Luke scrubbed a hand over his face, leaning back against the couch. “How’d you find out? I only decided to sign like three hours ago.”

  “Legal called me, of course. They thought it was a joke.”

  “It is. Sort of.”

  Mitch ran a hand through his hair. “You are seriously screwing with my Zen, man. I’ve been diffusing oils all day and it’s not even putting a dent in my stress level.”

  Luke rolled his eyes. He rose, going to the kitchen and pulling out two beers. Clearly Mitch needed a drink. “This’ll help more than any essential oil.”

  Mitch grabbed the beer from Luke. “It’s barely four o’clock, and neither of us are drinking. Now tell me about Toujour.”

  Luke shrugged. “It’s all for show. Not that I can let Brooke know that.” He quickly explained his conversation with Brooke, and his meeting at Toujour. “I’ll take out lots of women, maybe go on a third or fourth date with one. Then I’ll tell her things aren’t working out and break it off. Toujour gets their publicity, and I get to help Brooke while dating hot women. It’s a win-win situation.”

  “Or the media will guess you’re faking it and leak the story. Then Toujour’s integrity will be called into question, and you’ll be American’s most hated bachelor instead of most loved. And Brooke will be furious. You’re right—nothing could possibly go wrong.”

  Luke grinned. “That’s the spirit.”

  Mitch leaned across the counter. “You’re on tenuous footing with the board right now. This isn’t going to help.”

  “Are you kidding me? Darius will love that I’m ‘settling down.’” Luke made air quotes with his fingers. “Besides, it’s my life. The board doesn’t get an opinion.”

  Mitch snorted. “I dunno, man. They have opinions about everything you do right now. Are you sure you aren’t trying to play the hero to Brooke’s damsel in distress?”

  “Of course I am. What did legal say about the contract?”

  “They sent it back with a few minor revisions, which Charlotte accepted. Everything’s on the up and up.” Mitch glared as though it were Luke’s fault the contract had been approved.

  “Great.” Luke snatched the papers out of Mitch’s hand and rummaged in a kitchen drawer for a pen.

  “That doesn’t mean you should sign. This has trouble written all over it.”

  “Thanks for the unsolicited advice. I need you to help me write a press release. Something about the holiday season making me reconsider my future, wanting a fresh start, blah blah blah. Whatever sounds good and casts everyone in a favorable light.”

  “You’ve got to be joking.”

  “How else do you expect the media to find out? It shouldn’t take us more than an hour, and then we can watch the game.”

  Mitch blew out a breath. “I’m going on the record right now stating this is a terrible idea and I’ve been against it from the start.”

  “You aren’t going to try to stop me?”

  “Stopping you is like trying to stop a hurricane. Not gonna happen. I’m saving my energy for damage control.”

  CHAPTER THIRTEEN

  Brooke knew the moment Luke issued a press release, because the phones at Toujour started ringing off their hooks. Brooke watched in amazement as the normally calm and quiet office exploded in activity. Instead of silently working in their cubicles, matchmakers were fielding calls and tapping away on their keyboards. Chatter floated from the lobby—a rare occurrence, indeed.

  “It’s working,” Zoey said as she scanned her email. “I already have two new client appointments today. Lianna just sent me an email.”

  “Twitter’s going crazy,” Brooke said. “There are about nine hashtags to follow.”

  “Positive response?” Zoey asked.

  Brooke shrugged. “Mixed, but slanted toward the positive I think.” She opened her desk drawer and pulled out her purse. “I hate to leave now, but it’s too late to reschedule with the wedding planner.”

  “Aren’t you doing the intake appointment with Luke this afternoon?”

  “Yeah, I’ll be back by then.”

  Brooke had to squeeze her way through the crush of waiting women in the front lobby, something she was positive she’d never had to do before. She hoped that men would start signing up soon.

  Antonio waited for Brooke in the parking lot, his motorcycle parked next to her car. “Hi, sweetie,” Brooke said. She leaned in and gave him a firm kiss. “Sorry I’m late. Things are nuts today.”

  Antonio took the keys from Brooke, unlocked the car doors, and they got inside. “I can tell—the parking lot’s never this full. While painting this morning, I heard them mention on the radio a few different times that Luke had signed. That’s good, right?”

  “Absolutely. I know this is going to work. No way Toujour will close now.”

  Antonio pulled onto the freeway and rapidly increased their speed to eighty. “I hope you really can find a woman for Luke. I think it would make things easier with us.”

  Brooke reached over and squeezed Antonio’s hand. If that’s what it took to make Antonio and Luke get along, she would try her best. But only if the girl was right for Luke, of course.

  “Have you thought any more about Italy?” Antonio asked.

  “Maybe.”

  “Ah.” Antonio raised an eyebrow. “Italia is calling to you. We wouldn’t have to stop there either. With what they’d pay me, we could travel all over Europe. Madrid. Athens. Paris. You name it, and we could go there. We’d take pictures and I’d paint from them.”

  “It does sound nice,” Brooke said. More and more she was struggling to come up with reasons why they shouldn’t move to Italy. There was only one, really. She’d miss Luke terribly. But there was texting and video chats and vacations for that.

  “We could visit California often,” Antonio prodded.

  “We could live here and visit Italy.”

  He laughed. “My funny, stubborn girl.”

  The meeting with the wedding planner went well, but took longer than it should have. Traffic was a nightmare on the way back. Two blocks from Toujour, the car came to a complete stop. Brooke pulled out her cell phone and glanced at the time. Two minutes late.

>   “I’m late,” Brooke said.

  Antonio shrugged. “This traffic isn’t moving.”

  “I’m going to walk.”

  “Are you sure? It’s just Luke. He won’t mind if you’re late.”

  “He’s a client now, and it’s unprofessional to keep him waiting.”

  Antonio looked like he wanted to protest, but nodded instead. “I’ll see you tomorrow.”

  Brooke gave Antonio a quick kiss and jumped out of the car. She jogged to the sidewalk and started speed walking. She glanced at her cell phone. Eight minutes late. She uttered a curse and picked up her pace as she rounded the corner to Toujour.

  A camera bulb flashed. “Miss Pierce,” a reporter called. “How will being Mr. Ryder’s matchmaker affect your personal relationship?”

  “How does your fiancé feel about this?” another asked.

  Brooke blinked, trying to school her face into a blank expression and hide her surprise. Well, the media had arrived. She ignored the reporters and opened the doors to Toujour, eager to get away from the chaos.

  It wasn’t much better inside. Brooke looked around in amazement. There were eleven women and two men in the waiting room, and she didn’t recognize any of them. That meant they were new clients. Lianna talked on the phone, and Brooke could see from the blinking lights that three other lines were on hold. Several of the waiting clients held clipboards and were filling out their initial information. And Brooke thought they’d been busy when she left two hours ago. The transformation from yesterday was astonishing.

  Brooke shook her head and made her way toward her cubicle. Phones rang throughout the office, and the chatter of voices filled the room. Brooke saw several matchmakers in parlours with new clients, probably doing initial profiles.

  Luke’s dark hair was visible above her cubicle wall, and his and Zoey’s laughter floated toward her. “Sorry I’m late,” Brooke said.

  Zoey smiled. “Luke was entertaining me with guesses of what kinds of women you’ll set him up with.”

  “Ouch,” Brooke said, but she knew they were only teasing her. “I set you up with some good ones in high school.”

  Luke rolled his eyes. “All girls I was totally uninterested in.”

  “You’re difficult to please.”

  “How’d the appointment with the wedding planner go?” Zoey asked.

  “Fine,” Brooke said. If it was just Zoey, she’d talk about the gorgeous monogram that would be projected onto the dance floor and the way the fabric on the chair backers really complimented the table centerpieces. But she knew Luke hated hearing about the wedding. If she was marrying someone else, would he be so opposed? Was it the wedding he hated, or Antonio? “It took longer than I anticipated.” Brooke leaned around Luke, unplugging her laptop. “I’m ready.”

  “We’re not doing it here?” Luke asked.

  Brooke shook her head. “I scheduled Parlour Two. That’s the French spelling, of course.” She looked around the room. “Good thing I did. Already you’re bringing in business.”

  “I’m glad.” Luke followed Brooke. “So everything’s good with the wedding, huh?”

  Brooke glanced back at him. Why is he asking? “Yep.” Brooke had approved the final save the date, in fact, and the planner had assured her they’d arrive at her apartment in no more than a week so she’d have time to address and mail them. She wanted to give the Italian guests plenty of time to make travel arrangements. “Here we are.” She stood back and let Luke enter the parlour. It had two overstuffed arm chairs and a sleek, modern-looking coffee table. Quotes about love and relationships were stenciled on the walls.

  “Love is friendship set to music. Joseph Campbell.” Luke raised an eyebrow. “Do you believe that?”

  Brooke shrugged. Her spine tingled, and she felt inexplicably uncomfortable. “A solid friendship is usually the basis for a good relationship. Most of the couples I match develop a friendship before they develop a romance. Of course, there has to be a mutual physical attraction as well.”

  “And do those couples last?” Luke sank into a chair, and Brooke followed suit.

  “I have a pretty good retention rate. But I’ve only been in the business a few years.” Brooke opened her laptop and pulled up the questionnaire under Luke’s profile.

  “You sound like you expect the couples to break up.”

  Brooke glanced up. “That’s not what I meant. Yeah, a lot of people do break up. But it’s a choice, just like staying together is. The problem with couples today is they give up too easily. When things get tough, they bail.”

  “I couldn’t agree more.” Luke’s eyes drilled into hers. “But I know you, Brooke. You’re not a quitter. You don’t give up when something is hard.”

  Brooke shifted in her seat uncomfortably. “Are we talking about my relationship history, or are we talking about relationships in general?”

  Luke leaned back in his chair. “Generalities, obviously. I meant you don’t give up on your clients.”

  “Oh. Well, everyone has that perfect match out there. It just takes some searching. After a first date, it’s usually obvious if a couple will be compatible or not. Most of my couples who make it past the third date end up together long term.”

  Luke raised an eyebrow. “Huh. I didn’t know that. What do you think makes some people work and others not?”

  “It’s intangible. That something you can’t put your finger on. When things don’t work out, it’s not necessarily anyone’s fault. It just means it wasn’t meant to be.”

  “And who do you think I’m meant to be with?”

  Suddenly it was hard to swallow. “I guess we’ll find out.” Brooke focused on her laptop screen. “I already filled in all the basics for you—name, age, occupation, that sort of thing. Hope you don’t mind.”

  He put a hand to his chest in mock horror. “I thought only a client could fill out this questionnaire. Isn’t that what you told me last night?”

  She rolled her eyes. “I can delete it all and we can start over.”

  “No, no.” He sniffed dramatically. “I can tell you’re trying to get rid of me as quickly as possible.”

  And there he was—a glimpse of the old Luke. Brooke grinned. Maybe this matchmaking thing would be good for him after all. “Okay, first question. What qualities are you looking for in a partner?”

  “Oh, that’s easy. Someone hot.”

  Brooke burst out laughing. “And what exactly is your definition of ‘hot?’”

  “I’m looking at it.”

  Brooke’s laughter died. Her cheeks heated, and she looked away. “Be serious.”

  “I am.”

  “Luke, you can’t tell me I’m hot.”

  “Why not? It’s true.”

  “Well, because …” Because Antonio would hate it. Because I’m glad you find me attractive. “Because I’m engaged.”

  Luke raised an eyebrow. “Being engaged doesn’t diminish your hotness. It’s not like there’s a rule against complimenting you.”

  “Maybe there should be.” Her heart pounded.

  “We don’t want to mess up our lucky number fourteen by adding another rule.”

  “Fourteen isn’t a lucky number.”

  “Relax, Brooke.” Luke motioned to her laptop. “Honestly, I want someone compassionate. Someone loyal. I want a girl who cares more about others than she cares about herself. Someone who likes me for me and not for my money.”

  “That’s a pretty generic answer.”

  He shrugged. “I could make up something better.”

  Brooke quickly typed out the answer and moved on to the next question. “How long do you feel a couple should be in a relationship before entering into an engagement?”

  “Is that seriously a question?”

  “Yeah, I know. Kind of a weird one. But you’d be surprised how often that becomes an issue—one person wants to move quickly and the other one wants to take things slow. So what is it?”

  “Eight years. That’s how long we’ve
known each other, right?”

  Brooke’s fingers curled against the keyboard. What was with him today? “Stop it.”

  “Stop what?”

  “Stop flirting.”

  “Why?” He leaned forward. “I like flirting with you. We always flirt.”

  “Not like this we don’t. And we especially shouldn’t now. I’m getting married.”

  He sat back in his chair, jaw clenched. “I couldn’t possibly forget that—you remind me every five seconds.”

  Brooke closed her eyes and took a deep breath. “You’re out of line, Luke.”

  “Admit it—you like me this way.”

  “That’s it, I’m making a new rule. Rule #15—no flirting when one of us is in a serious relationship.”

  “Define ‘serious.’”

  The man was impossible. “I think an engagement would qualify.”

  Luke rubbed his jaw. “You can’t make up a new rule whenever you feel like it.”

  “I just did.” She couldn’t make her toe stop tapping against the floor. Her laptop bounced on her lap with each tap. “I think we should get back to the questionnaire. Now answer the question—how long should a couple be in a relationship before they get engaged?”

  Luke glowered. “Fine. But know I’m not accepting Rule #15 as a real rule.”

  “Yes. You. Are.”

  He ignored her. “Here’s my real answer—I think it depends on the situation. When it’s right, it’s right, and we’ll both know it. Maybe that’ll take a few months. Maybe it’ll take years.” He held up his hands. “I don’t know. Don’t you think that depends a lot on the couple?”

  “Fair enough,” Brooke said, breathing easier. What had that been all about? Had she overreacted with instituting a new rule? Luke always flirted, and it had never bothered her before today.

  Forget about it and focus on the job at hand.

  “How many children do you want?” Brooke asked. Then she laughed. “Three, of course.”

  “Same as you.”

  Brooke nodded. “Same as me.” Antonio on the other hand wanted at least five. Somehow she knew that if they moved to Italy, he’d end up winning that battle. “Okay, this question is kind of random but actually says a lot about someone.” Brooke held back a grin. “If you won a million dollars today, what would you do with it?”