Miss Match

by Lindzee Armstrong

  Brooke quickly pulled away and followed Luke out of the office. She needed to get her head on straight.

  *

  It wasn’t too hard to fill out the rest of the questionnaire before her three p.m. meeting with Kendra, Tamera’s matchmaker. Brooke knew Luke so well she could practically hear him saying the words as she typed.

  Kendra poked her head around the cubicle. “Ready?”

  Brooke grabbed her laptop. “If you are.”

  They went to the same parlour she’d met with Luke in earlier. Brooke swallowed, taking a seat and opening her laptop as Kendra did the same. “Want me to go first?” Kendra asked.

  Brooke nodded. She didn’t want to taint Kendra’s opinion of the date by what she had to say.

  “Tamera thought the date went well right up until the frat boy mishap. She was thrilled with how ‘hot’” —Kendra made air quotes— “Luke was. Even hotter than in the photos, apparently. And she said he was a perfect gentleman. According to her, he bought them enough food to feed a third world country, and she thought that was cool. Something about how he doesn’t buy into our society’s ridiculous ideas about body image.” Kendra rolled her eyes. “Anyway, she’s embarrassed about her drinking and the confrontation with the frat boys, but thought it was ‘simply adorable’ how Luke stepped in the middle of it. She thought he handled the whole thing really well. She was a little disappointed they didn’t go out to dinner afterward because she felt they didn’t really get to talk, but she still had a great time and would love a second date and the chance to get to know Luke better.”

  Brooke sighed. “I hate it when this happens.”

  Kendra’s smile turned pained. “He isn’t interested, is he?”

  “No.”

  Kendra nodded, positioning her fingers over the laptop keyboard. “I’m not surprised after what I read online. Let me hear it.”

  “He wasn’t fond of Tamera’s competitive edge. Apparently she got really involved in the football game and wasn’t pleased with how the referees were handling things. And the drinking was a bit of a turnoff.” Something Brooke found hypocritical.

  “Tamera’s never gotten drunk on a date before. I think it was nerves, but I’ll mention it. I’m going to set up a relationship counseling session with her later this week. She mentioned that her sister and ex-boyfriend are getting married, and I think it’s bringing up old issues. As for competitiveness, some men love that. Sounds like they’re just incompatible.”

  “How’s Tamera going to take it?”

  Kendra grinned. “Oh, she won’t be too disappointed. She didn’t think Luke would want a second date after what happened with the frat boys. She had her five minutes in the spotlight and can tell all her friends about the time she dated Luke Ryder, so I think she’s happy regardless.”

  Brooke let out a breath. “Good. The last thing we need is disgruntled women going to the press.”

  “We all know what you’re doing here, Brooke.”

  Brooke blinked in surprise, and Kendra nodded.

  “About the deal with Charlotte? None of us think Luke is really looking for a relationship. We read the papers.”

  “He says he is, but I’d be lying if I said I wasn’t nervous,” Brooke said. “That first date didn’t help me feel better.”

  Kendra shut her laptop lid and gave Brooke a reassuring smile. “You’re doing a good thing. Hopefully it will work. I think most women will be happy with even one date. No one’s expecting to marry the guy.”

  “Thank you. Setting him up is harder than I thought.”

  “Better luck next time.” Kendra grinned, waving as she walked back to her own desk.

  “How’d it go?” Zoey asked as Brooke sat down.

  “She wanted a second date, he didn’t.”

  Zoey nodded. “I’m guessing that’s how most of Luke’s dates will go.” She pointed to her computer screen. “We’ve had one hundred and forty-three people sign up since news of Luke hit the media, so at least we have a bigger pool to pick from. Fingers crossed.”

  Brooke nodded. Fingers, and toes, and eyes too. This had to work or she could kiss America—and Luke—goodbye.

  CHAPTER EIGHTEEN

  Luke wanted to go home after meeting with Brooke, but he went back to Ryder Communications. He walked into his office to find Mitch and Darius standing around the mini-fridge, each holding a glass. They both had stern expressions on their faces.

  “What’s going on?” Luke asked.

  Mitch glanced at Luke. “Good, you’re back.”

  “This is a nightmare,” Darius said. “An absolute disaster. Luke, you must fix this.”

  “Fix what?” Luke looked back and forth between the two men, the dread flowing over him.

  “Nathan Kendall.” Darius spit out the words as though they were poison.

  He’s pressing charges. Luke’s heart dropped. Not only would that mess things up for Ryder Communications, it would ruin everything for Toujour. “What’s going on?”

  Darius swore. “It’s the home automation system.”

  Luke barely had time to feel relieved before a new panic took hold. “Fill me in.”

  Mitch rubbed his eyes. “Kendall Home Systems announced their pre-sale numbers.” Mitch held his tablet out to Luke. Luke took it, scanning the article. He nearly choked at the numbers.

  “That’s a lot of zeros,” Luke said.

  Darius nodded. “Our stock’s already dropped three points.”

  “We have to issue a press release, letting the public know we’re doing our own relaunch of Talia,” Mitch said. “No more keeping things quiet. The tech department will have the pre-order button up on the website by tonight.” He took the tablet back from Luke and tapped the screen. “We need to give them a firm release date, and work with the stores to do pre-orders through them as well.”

  Luke didn’t want to say it, but had to. “What if Talia isn’t ready by January?”

  “She has to be,” Darius said. “We’re all sunk if she’s not. We may never recover if we can’t one-up Nathan.”

  “We’re not going to let that happen,” Luke said.

  “Then what are we going to do?” Mitch asked.

  Luke’s mouth felt dry. What would his father do in this situation? “We’ll have to undercut Kendall Home System’s price, at least at first. Even if it means taking a loss. We’ll offer existing customers an upgrade to the new system at a significant discount.”

  Mitch nodded, tapping away on his tablet. “Great ideas. Maybe we could offer them a sneak peak at Talia 2.0. They can get it before the rest of the public or something.”

  “Good, good,” Darius said.

  Luke rubbed his eyes. This so wasn’t what he wanted to deal with right now. “Whatever it takes. Let’s call a meeting with the Talia Team this afternoon. I want every member here and ready to work.”

  Mitch nodded. “I’ll have Krista send out an email immediately.” He left the room.

  “I appreciate the effort you’re putting in,” Darius said. “I know you’re trying. Let’s hope it pays off.”

  “It will,” Luke said.

  Darius pursed his lips. “I saw the articles about your first date.”

  Luke grunted.

  “I’m worried your dating life will take away from your focus at the job. I read what happened at the football game. That type of thing is stressful.”

  Luke tried to play it off. “That was a fluke. I assure you, I’ll be able to get the job done—while dating.”

  “If you’re sure.”

  “We’ll launch the first week in January, and it’ll be great. Kendall won’t know what hit him.”

  “That’s barely two weeks away.”

  “We’ll be ready.”

  Darius sighed. “You know he’s doing the release now because he knows we’re struggling.”

  “Of course he is. Kendall’s an oily snake. But we won’t be down for long.” Luke closed his eyes, willing the pain away. If Dad was here, this would’ve
never happened.

  The meeting with the Talia Team went as well as could be expected. It turned out the first week in January wasn’t doable, but with a tight four week timeline they’d have Talia 2.0 out by the middle of the month. Hopefully without the glitches of the first launch. But without Dad too. Their first release without the company founder.

  It was nearly nine p.m. before Luke left the office for the day. The gurgling fountain right outside Ryder Communications soothed his frayed nerves once he stepped outside. A guitarist sat near the water, playing Christmas music. Luke’s father had never minded musicians earning money by playing on their grounds, as long as they weren’t disruptive or offensive. The haunting notes of What Child Is This? compelled Luke to stop and listen. That had always been his father’s favorite Christmas song. Luke walked over to the man and tossed a hundred dollar bill into the guitar case.

  The man’s eyes widened, but he didn’t stop singing, just inclined his head as a lone tear trickled down his cheek. Luke nodded his understanding and walked away.

  “That was very generous.”

  Luke stopped as a woman stepped onto the path in front of him. Candi. “What are you doing here?” Luke asked.

  Candi shrugged, and he worried her bosom would pop out of her shirt with the movement. “I came to see how you’re doing.”

  Luke snorted, brushing past her. She kept pace with him as he headed toward the valet station.

  “What do you want?” he asked.

  Candi frowned. “You. I know I should’ve told you about Nathan. But I genuinely care for you, Luke. I was so mad at Nathan that night, and when I saw you, all the old feelings came rushing back.” Her red nails skittered along his arm, and he shivered.

  “I find it more believable that you and Nathan cooked that night up in a pathetic ploy to try to get company secrets out of me.”

  Candi laughed. “Kendall Home Systems doesn’t need your secrets. They’re doing great on their own, thank you very much.” She ran her hand down his arm, intertwining her fingers with his. “I might be able to help you out, however.”

  He shook her hand away. “Not interested.”

  “Even if it saves the company?”

  It would’ve been a tempting offer, if he’d believed she had anything to offer.

  Candi frowned. “What’s this matchmaking business about, Luke? You didn’t seem interested in ‘serious’ on Thanksgiving.”

  “A lot’s changed since then.”

  She snorted. “Like you letting the girl you love match you up?”

  Luke clenched his hands into fists. “Stop it. Just stop.”

  “You always did feel more for Brooke than she felt for you.”

  Luke whirled on her. “What’s your angle? Is there a photographer hiding in the bushes, ready to take an incriminating photo of us? Are you trying to get me to confess something condemning to make Nathan look better in the press?”

  Candi raised an eyebrow. “Do you have something condemning to confess?”

  He shook his head. “I’m done with this.”

  “She’ll never have you.” Candi folded her arms, making her cleavage even more pronounced. “Brooke’s a serious relationship girl, and you’re a player.”

  He curled his toes in his shoes. “I’m not a player.”

  “She’s getting married. It’s over.” She grabbed his hand, pulling him close. “After a night with me, you won’t care that you lost. It can be our little secret.”

  Luke tore his hand from Candi’s. “You have a boyfriend, and I’m not interested.”

  She laughed. “If you haven’t convinced Brooke to be more than friends by now, you never will.”

  Luke wanted to yell at her, but he turned and walked away.

  “You’d do well to stay on my good side, Luke Ryder,” she called at his retreating back.

  He shook his head. What game is she playing? But he knew her game. Nathan wasn’t stupid enough to share secrets with that viper, and Candi simply wanted what she couldn’t have.

  The valet must’ve seen him approaching, because the limousine and driver waited for him at the curb. Luke thanked the valet and got in his car, eagerly leaving work behind.

  Had the valet seen him with Candi? Worse yet, had the press? Had anyone heard them fighting about Brooke?

  Luke shook his head. Nothing had happened. They’d barely even talked. Even if the press had gotten a picture, it wasn’t anything damning. Probably. They did know how to spin lies.

  “Why?” Luke asked the ceiling. Why did everything have to happen all at once? Ryder Communications, Toujour, Talia, Candi … Brooke. Which one do you want the most?

  The answer to that question was easy—Brooke. If everything else went away, he’d be fine as long as he had her.

  He had to convince her not to marry Antonio. The time for being timid had passed. I won’t lose her. Not without a fight. He picked up his cell and called her. It was time to stop dancing around the issue. He had a girl to win over.

  CHAPTER NINETEEN

  Charlotte’s reprimand hung heavy on Brooke, and after meeting with Kendra, she scoured the databases for an acceptable second date for Luke. Nothing. None of these women were quite good enough—for Luke or for the press.

  When seven o’clock rolled around, Brooke was more than happy to shut down her computer and go home. She and Zoey silently gathered their things and walked to the car. They’d both been so busy that afternoon that they hadn’t really spoken since lunch.

  “Rough afternoon?” Zoey asked once they were in the car.

  Brooke sighed. “Yeah.”

  “Sounds like you need a spa day. Or evening, I guess. What do you say?”

  Brooke sighed again. “Sounds divine, but Antonio’s coming over to help address save the dates.”

  “Once you send out save the dates, things start getting real.”

  Brooke flicked a glare at Zoey before refocusing on the road. “This wedding is happening, maid of honor. Get used to it, and thanks for the support.”

  “As maid of honor, it’s my duty to tell you when you’re making a mistake.”

  “Are you going to help me address invitations or what?”

  “Sorry, no can do. I have a date.”

  “I thought you wanted to do a spa night.”

  Zoey shrugged. “I would’ve canceled for a spa night, but I won’t for a calligraphy pen and cramped fingers.”

  “Figures.”

  They arrived home, and Zoey disappeared into her room to get ready for her date. Brooke pulled the gigantic box of save the dates from her walk-in closet—nearly five hundred announcements. She’d wanted the wedding to be a much smaller affair, but Antonio’s family and friends-he-considered-family list was huge. If they moved to Italy, that would be something she’d definitely have a hard time adjusting to.

  Next, Brooke pulled out the address list, invitations, envelopes, stamps, and calligraphy pens. She dragged everything out to the living room and assembled it on the beige carpet in a line parallel with the television. Maybe she should’ve asked the bridal party to help. At least Antonio was an artist, and could help address the envelopes. She wouldn’t trust most guys with such a task. But even with the two of them, it would take hours to address all the envelopes. She turned on the television and picked a British comedy that Antonio enjoyed, then sat on the floor with her back against the couch and her careful assembly line in front of her.

  Brooke glanced at her cell phone—6:02. He was two minutes late. She took a deep breath, trying to relax. She pulled the address list toward her and began addressing envelopes.

  At 6:10, Brooke called him. No answer. At 6:17 she tried again. At 6:32 her phone rang. Don’t be upset. Don’t make this into a fight. “Hello,” Brooke said, proud of herself for sounding cheerful.

  “Mia dolcezza. I’m sorry I didn’t call earlier. The muse struck, and I lost track of time.”

  Brooke closed her eyes and breathed deeply. “No problem. Are you on your way over now?
” You’d better be on your way.

  “No, I’m at the loft, covered in oil paints from head to toe. Brooke, this landscape is a masterpiece. The gallery will adore it. I hate to stop working when the inspiration is so strong. Can we do the invitations a different night?”

  Don’t get mad, don’t throw a fit. “Of course.” He was trying to financially support them, after all. And he was nervous about making the gallery in Italy happy.

  “You’re perfect, mia bella. I promise we’ll do it soon. Maybe this weekend, after I get back from San Diego.”

  “No problem. I’ve already started, but you can help me finish up later.” Brooke paused. “Is someone laughing?”

  “It’s my iPod. I should’ve turned down the musica before calling. It’s why I didn’t hear my phone ring the first two times.”

  “Oh. Right.”

  “Saturday we’ll finish up. And I’ll stop by to see you before I leave for San Diego tomorrow.”

  “Sure.”

  “I love you, Brooke.”

  “I love you, too.” But as she hung up the phone, her feelings were leaning much more toward anger than love. She knew when she started dating an artist that it would be like this sometimes. His job wasn’t nine to five. He kept odd hours, and worked whenever the mood struck. And she understood that. Really, she did.

  But why did it have to interfere with their wedding?

  And if the muse strikes on our wedding day, will he show up late to the ceremony? She pushed the thought away. Of course he wouldn’t. Even Antonio wasn’t that irresponsible. Besides, he was as excited to get married as she was.

  Brooke picked up the calligraphy pen. She really should keep addressing the invitations. She’d taken the time to pull everything out, and besides, the likelihood of Antonio flaking a second time was high. But if she was doing this solo, she was watching something she liked. She flipped through the channels and settled on a modeling competition show she and Luke loved. He always critiqued the models’ clothing in a British accent that made her giggle hysterically.

  Her phone rang, and she knew without looking at the caller ID that it was Luke. He had an uncanny ability to know when she was thinking about him. Brooke answered the phone with a smile. “I’m watching Model at the Top,” she said.