The Matchmakers

by Jennifer Colgan

  `How’d she do?´ Nick asked when Farley sauntered over to his corner of the bar. He immediately recognized the same hangdog look on the bartender that Diane had worn all evening. Now that Nick understood why, he couldn’t help wondering what he could do to change it. `How’d who do what?´ `Callie. Her first night on the job.´ `Beer?´ `No, thanks.´ Nick tried to tear his gaze away from his houseguest. Catfish shot him a superior look as the couple passed by whirling and high stepping to the energetic beat. `She did all right. Doesn’t know a Tequila Sunrise from Sex on the Beach, but she’ll learn. Pretty girl. The customers like her.´ `Yeah.´ Nick found himself agreeing. He wasn’t the only man watching Callie and Catfish. Nick didn’t like the feral looks some of Farley’s patrons had trained on her. `You treat her right, Nick,´ Farley said as he turned to rearrange the last of the clean glasses behind the bar. Nick caught his pointed gaze in the mirror. `What was that, Ted?´ `Just make sure you know what you’ve got before you toss it away.´ Nick wanted to protest. He’d just met Callie, after all if nearly running her over actually constituted an official meeting. It took him a moment to realize Farley’s words really weren’t aimed at him. The song ended, and Catfish released Callie with a chaste peck on the cheek. His shaggy whiskers tickled, and she giggled as she floated across the floor to the applause of Farley’s customers. `That was fun,śhe told Nick when she reached the bar. `Good for business, too. I should pay Catfish. He draws in the ladies like flies.´ Farley’s stage whisper drew a wink from Catfish, who snatched up his harmonica from his stool and started to play again. Callie contemplated Farley’s words. Hayden had told her the best tip nights were Thursdays and Saturdays when Catfish showed up for line dancing and swing lessons. If she’d really seen a spark of jealousy in Nick’s eyes during her whirl around the dance floor with Catfish, what might happen to a whole room full of couples during a romantic evening of dancing? `Are you ready to go home?´ Nick asked. His fingers grazed her elbow, and the contact once again made Callie’s hidden wings flutter. `Yes, I’m worn out!Śhe waved to Catfish as she untied her apron. Nick watched in astonishment when she began counting out the tips from her pockets. `Looks like you had a good night.´ `Not bad. How about you?Ćallie hoped she sounded merely curious and not proprietary. `Interesting. I’ll tell you about it on the way home.´ `Good night, Hayden!Ćallie waved as she rounded the bar. `Farley, thank you for hiring me. I guess I’ll see you on Monday?´ `Closed Mondays. I’ll see you Tuesday.´ Nick took Callie’s arm and led her outside. `Flirting with Catfish, I see,´ he said once they’d reached the parking lot. Callie shot him a sidelong glance and played along with his teasing tone. `Well, he’s very charming, and he never steps on a girl’s toes.´ `I didn’t step on your toes when we danced.´ `Actually, you did. I just didn’t mention it.´ Nick feigned shock. `Catfish’s feet are a lot bigger than mine.´ `Yes. I noticed.´ `What’s that supposed to mean?´ Nick turned sharply, tugging her close, and Callie caught her breath. She shrugged, holding in her laughter. `Nothing. I’m told size doesn’t matter. It’s how you use what you’ve got.Śhe held his cool gaze for a moment, then burst into giggles. She could tell by Nick’s manner that he hadn’t taken advantage of Diane, and relief made her giddy. A rough hand closed over her wrist and yanked her around so hard she stumbled on the loose gravel. Her laughter died, and Nick’s rakish grin faded. `Hey!Śhe yelped as her ankle turned painfully before she had a chance to pop away to safety. She steadied herself and looked up into the angry face of Mr. Jukebox. The moment his cold eyes met hers, waves of his rage and frustration washed over her. For the briefest instant the first time in her long Fae existence Callie was afraid. Lightning fast, Nick put himself between Callie and her assailant. She pulled back from the man’s vicious grasp, too stunned to disappear. He let go of her wrist, and she fell. Human instinct took over, and she put her hands out to break her fall. She hit the ground, and her palms skidded across the sharp rocks, pain shooting up her forearms. A second later, Nick had grabbed a fistful of Mr. Jukebox’s clean white shirt. `Hands off, Skip!´ Nick registered only faint annoyance that apparently Miranda had lied to him again. Her estranged husband was supposed to have left town, yet here he was, his pretty boy face twisted in a caricature of superior amusement. Nick shook him, and Skip sneered, his fists balled, ready for a repeat performance of the other night. `Hands off? Interesting words coming from you, handyman. I didn’t think you knew what µhands off’ meant.´ `It means you don’t touch a lady unless she asks you to. So you apologize for putting your paws on her, and if you’re real lucky you’ll go home without getting any blood on your pretty white shirt.´ `She was going to give me her number. I guess you offered her a better incentive to go home with you tonight.´ `The only thing I offered was to act like a gentleman.´ Nick twisted Skip’s collar a little tighter, and he liked the feel of the starched material wrinkling in his grip. He also liked that Skip looked a little nervous and a little purple around the edges. `Let him go, Nick. I’m all right.Ćallie’s voice reached him through the pounding of his own blood in his ears. He wanted to let go and go to her, but now that he had Skip at arm’s length once again, he itched to return the punch Skip had surprised him with the other night. `One shot, handyman. Go ahead and take a crack at me, and I’ll own you and this lousy bar.´ `It’s my lousy bar, you imbecile,´ Farley’s voice boomed from behind Skip, who turned a paler shade of plum. `And it looks to me like you assaulted one of my employees.´ The barrel of Farley’s twelve-gauge came to rest on Skip’s shoulder. `Do I have to make a citizen’s arrest?´ Nick dropped Skip, who sagged a little and rubbed his throat. `This isn’t over, handyman. And your girlfriend owes me what she promised.Śkip shrugged his shirt back in place and puffed out his chest. `We’ll finish it somewhere else.´ He strutted away, muttering under his breath. Farley lowered the shotgun but kept his glower trained on Skip until his Mercedes SUV screeched out of the parking lot. Nick dropped to his knees beside Callie who sat staring at her hands. Dirty scrapes marred her palms, interspersed with thin streaks of blood. He took her hands in his and brushed away the loose gravel that clung to her delicate skin. `It’s okay. He’s gone.´ He put an arm around her waist and helped her stand. `Come on inside and get cleaned up,´ Farley said with a final glare at Skip’s receding taillights. Nick tried to guide Callie back toward the bar, but she remained rooted to the spot, her expression distant. `I’m all right. I’m fine. Nick, can we just go?´ The emotionless tone of her voice worried him. She looked stunned, like a frightened deer, and Nick feared her injuries might be worse than a few scrapes. `Don’t you worry about him. He won’t dare come back here,´ Farley assured her. She nodded. `I just want to go.´ Nick kept his arm around Callie and walked her to his truck. Her stiff posture and slight limp added to his growing concern. He hadn’t known her long enough to be sure this reaction was unlike her, but something told him Skip’s actions had shaken her to the core. Once she’d settled in the passenger seat, he turned and brushed a strand of hair from her cheek. `Don’t let Skip get to you. I won’t let him hurt you.´ `I know. I’m fine, really.Śhe brightened, seeming to shake off her sudden confusion. `Tell me what happened with Diane. I’ve been wondering all night.´ Nick started the engine and pulled out of the parking lot before answering. `It turns out, Farley did fix the tire.´ `I knew he would.´ `Well, it took a while, and while he was working on it, they got to talking about things.´ `Which is good.´ Though the perkiness had returned to her voice, Callie kept her gaze straight ahead. Her hands lay palm up, limp and pale in her lap. Nick wanted to touch her again and rub away the sting of scraped skin and wounded pride, but he held himself in check. He kept both hands on the wheel, his gaze on the road, and relayed the strange conversation he’d had that evening with Diane. `Farley apparently told Diane he wants to get married.Ćallie gasped. `That’s great! But I don’t understand ´ `He asked Diane if she would help him write a personal ad.´ `I can’t believe it.Ćallie moaned and hung her head. `What was he thinking?´ `Here’s what I can’t believe.
Diane didn’t tell me exactly how she felt about Farley. She made it out like she’d been thinking of quitting her job for a while, but I knew that wasn’t true.´ `Of course it’s not true. He broke her heart. She thinks they might be perfect for each other, if only he’d wake up and realize it.´ Nick nodded. `Exactly. But how did I know that?Śhe finally turned to look at him, and the faintest smile played around her lips. `You’re getting in touch with your inner faerie.´ Nick hit the brake. `I am not.´ `You’re developing an instinct. Granted, my being here has something to do with it. It’s like«have you ever hung out with someone who had a pronounced accent British maybe or Southern? Ever notice how you pick up their speech patterns for a while? It’s not intentional, and it goes away after a while, but I think that’s what’s happening to you. You’re picking up some Fae intuition from me. That’s good, Nick! That will help us a lot.´ `It’s not going to last, right? I’ll go back to normal eventually?Śhe shrugged. `Sure. When all this is over«and I’m gone.´ Her voice trailed off, and something pinged against Nick’s heart. As much as she drove him a little crazy, he wasn’t ready for her to be gone just yet. `So in the meantime, I’m turning psychic?´ `Not psychic. Intuitive. Don’t you think it’s a useful skill? Being able to tell what people are really feeling, getting flashes of insight into their thoughts, can make you a better person and a more understanding friend.´ `I don’t like it.´ `Why not?´ Her voice held a hint of amusement, and he did like that.

  `It makes me feel like I have to help«like I’ve got to butt in.´ `Welcome to my life.´ `Well, I don’t want your life. I want mine. I like not feeling obligated to make people feel better. I’m not good at it.Ćallie sighed. She lifted her hands, then dropped them again before replying. `Don’t worry, Nick. Either way, it won’t last forever.Ás soon as they reached Nick’s apartment, Callie rushed past him into the bathroom and shut the door. She filled the sink with ice-cold water, then sat on the closed lid of the toilet and stared at her hands. Each palm sported a raw patch, the broken skin threaded through with welled blood. Callie stared at the red streaks, willing them to disappear. The harder she willed, the redder they seemed to become. This could not be. Fae did not bleed. They never got hurt the vigilant ones, at least. Immortal, but not invincible she’d learned that lesson centuries ago. Only the careless suffered mortal wounds. How, then, had she allowed Skip to push her down, to hurt her and frighten her? The faintest outline of his fingers marred the skin of her wrist, and when she rubbed the spot, it stung. Her heart stuttered, and her wings ached for freedom. Wings! How could she forget? She pulled off her shirt, and for the first time since arriving in Nick’s world, unfolded her wings. In the bathroom mirror, they appeared as gossamer triangles of light dancing behind her. Their power infused her with new strength, and in their reflected glow, the damage to her hands, her wrist, and her ankle came undone. When all the pain was gone, she splashed water on her face and sighed. Her injuries were her own fault more than Skip’s. She should have been more careful. Her relief at seeing Nick, her eagerness to know he hadn’t seduced Diane, had made her careless. She’d acted like a jealous human, and she’d paid the price. A soft knock on the door startled her, and guiltily she tucked her wings away. Rather than put her t-shirt back on, she popped herself into a set of pink satin pajamas before opening the door a crack. Nick stood in the hallway looking worried. `You all right?´ `I’m fine.´ `I know it’s late, but are you hungry? There’s all that food in the kitchen ´ `No, thank you. I’d just like to go to sleep for a while.´ He looked disappointed. `That’s probably a good idea.´ She joined him in the narrow hallway, faking a yawn. `Good night, Nick.´ He backed up a step, jammed his hands in his back pockets and followed her to the living room. There, he helped her unfold the Mets blanket. Once she’d settled on the couch, he made a sweet, but clumsy attempt to tuck her in. `Are you sure you’re okay? Will you be all right out here?Śhe showed him her hands. `All better. I promise I’ll be fine.Śhe snuggled under the blanket and closed her eyes. While the yawn had been contrived, the feeling of fatigue that swept over her was very real. She’d never been so happy to lie down and stretch her legs. After a moment, Nick shut off the light and left the room. Callie lay perfectly still, listening to the faint sounds of him getting ready for bed. In the silence that followed, she stared at the ceiling, watching the flicker of light and shadow from the front window. Centuries had passed since Callie had played at being human. All young Fae went through a phase those decades of discontent when they believed the mortal life offered more meaning than the charmed existence of their race. Some even made the permanent transition to mortality, always with Freya’s reluctant blessing. Fortunately, most outgrew the childish fancy and learned to embrace the gift of immortality. Callie forced herself to remember now that no matter how many comfortable moments she spent in the harsh, cold human realm, she did not belong here. She could not afford to forget again that her only objective was to complete Freya’s punishment and find her way back home.

  Chapter Fourteen

  `I worked it out, and I know exactly what we’re going to do,Ćallie said when Nick appeared in the kitchen doorway Sunday morning. She handed him a plate of waffles and a glass of juice while he blinked away the fog of sleep. `Do about what?´ He took a deep, appreciative whiff of the food on his plate and grinned as he sat. `I could get used to this.´ He hoped days of hard work at the construction site would help him burn off the extra calories. It had been more than a decade since he’d begun each morning with a home-cooked meal, and he hated to admit that he missed it. Callie seemed to ignore his comment. She sat across from him and watched while he filled each waffle square with a drop of warm maple syrup. He laughed at her curious gaze. `I used to do this when I was a kid. Had to have syrup in every hole. It drove my mother crazy.Á pang of regret settled in his gut at the thought, and his smile faded. Too many years had passed since he’d recalled his mother’s perpetually worried face, her soft voice and quiet concern. He’d long ago trained himself not to wonder if she missed him, too. `Anyway, my plan.Ćallie plowed on, dissolving the awkward memory before Nick became mired in it. `I’ve been thinking myself and ´ She cut him off. `Personal ads.´ `What?´ `You said Farley wanted to write a personal ad.´ `Yeah, but didn’t you say that would take too long?´ `The traditional way, yes. But I’m thinking if we throw everything together in one big pot and stir it up, we can move things along a little faster.´ `I’m not following.´ Nick sipped his juice, then looked around the kitchen. He’d need some caffeine if he hoped to keep up with her. `Coffee’s almost ready. Try to focus, Nick.´ Her scolding tone caught him by surprise. She was all business this morning and apparently annoyed by his momentary distraction. `Can you actually read my mind?´ he asked after a bite of waffle. `Sometimes. Here’s my plan ´ `Right.´ `Farley wants to bring more people into the bar. The best nights, according to Hayden, are when something is going on like Catfish’s dance lessons. So what about a singles night where everyone writes a short personal ad? Someone could read the ads, and people could choose their favorite and meet that person. We could pair them up for dance lessons, or maybe the best ad could win a prize. If the evening had a theme, like the 1950s or maybe a costume ball for Halloween, that would draw people in who don’t normally come to the bar. What do you think?´ Nick chewed his waffle and nodded. `I think Farley will love it. But what about Diane? She really loves him.´ The admission made Nick uncomfortable. It reminded him that he now knew far more about Diane’s personal life than he’d ever wanted to. `It’s perfect. Diane can write an ad, and Farley will choose her. If she’s wearing a costume, he won’t know it’s her until he picks her.´ `And what if he doesn’t?Óne of Callie’s perfect plans had already failed quite miserably. So far, their matchmaking record was batting a thousand.

  Callie thought for a moment. `We can help her write it so it matches just what he’s looking for. He’ll have to pick her because no one else will even come close.´ `He’ll have to agree to the idea first.´ `You just said he’ll lo
ve it. He’ll make a bucket of money on drinks and cover charges. It’ll be fun and it will accomplish our objective.´ Nick shrugged and wolfed down the last bite of his breakfast. `I hate to admit it, but it sounds pretty good to me. What’s my part in all of it?´ `Right now, just back me up. Tell Farley you think it’s a great idea. Maybe you can mention it at work and get people interested, and later on you can help people write their personal ads. We can make up fliers so everyone can have their ads ready when they show up.´ `I’ve never written a personal ad.´ `Well, you’ll learn. It’s all about using the right abbreviations and making yourself sound fascinating. We’ll practice later. Right now, I’ve got to go ´ `Don’t.´ Nick grabbed her wrist lightning fast. He didn’t want her to leave today. When he realized he’d caught the spot Skip had wrenched last night, he felt like a barbarian. He let go and rubbed her skin gently. `I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to hurt you. But don’t disappear, okay? Where do you have to go in such a hurry?Śhe scanned the room as if looking for an excuse to beg off. `I have to«go. I need to ´ `Can it wait? It’s a beautiful day. Why don’t we do something, like a ride upstate to see the leaves? Even matchmakers get a day off, don’t they?Ćallie studied him for a moment. He had no intention of letting her off the hook, and he kept his hopeful smile in place until she relented. `All right. Let me get changed, and we’ll go for a ride.´ Nick stole glances at his passenger while he followed the winding mountain roads toward the state forest. The views from the Appalachian foothills were spectacular this time of year, and he’d been itching to get out in the cool autumn air and fill his lungs with freedom. Unfortunately, the view in the car was equally distracting. Callie had traded her pink satin pajamas for faded jeans and hiking boots. Under a matching denim jacket, she wore a fluffy sweater the color of caramel. It looked soft as a kitten, and Nick’s fingers ached to touch it. He’d asked himself over and over why he wanted to do this why he wanted to be with her today. The easy answer was, why not? She was beautiful, vivacious and when she wasn’t driving him crazy, she left him breathless. Loony or not, she was nice to look at and maybe, if he could figure out how to draw her out, he’d learn a little more about her. He needed a better explanation as to why she seemed more and more like a magical creature and less and less like an escaped mental patient. `Oh look! Pumpkins!´ Nick smiled at her delighted cry. Mounds of brilliant orange pumpkins, some plain and others painted with goofy neon faces, spilled over wooden tables and out of huge crates at a roadside stand. A rocky gravel lot served as a parking area, and Nick pulled in between another pickup and an SUV. `They’ve got cider. I haven’t had cider in years,´ he said as he rounded the back of the truck and helped Callie out. She breezed past him and immediately wrapped her arms around a twenty-pound pumpkin, hugging it like a long lost friend. `Look at this one! He’s beautiful.´ `It looks like all the other ones, only bigger.´ `It’s perfect for a centerpiece for the bar.´ `Oh. Can’t Farley get his own pumpkins? He hasn’t even agreed to have the party yet.´ Her face fell, and once again, Nick felt like a monster. Why did her smile suddenly mean so much to him? He thumped the pumpkin’s unblemished hide and reached for his wallet. Callie rewarded him with a triumphant grin as she hauled the huge gourd off its table. Nick pulled out his wallet and paid for the pumpkin and two cups of fresh cider. He leaned against the truck, grinning into his cup while Callie hoisted her prize into the back of the flat bed. She glared at him when he handed her the cider. `You could have helped.´ He shook his head. `You could’ve popped that thing back to the apartment or right to the bar.´ `Not in front of everybody,śhe whispered between sips of cider. Nick shrugged. `You could’ve made it weigh less.Śhe opened her mouth to protest, but no words came out. Her expression told him he’d pay for his cheeky comments later, and he relished the challenge. They finished their cider in silence and climbed back in the truck. Callie immediately twisted around in her seat to check on their new passenger. `Will he be all right back there?´ `He?´ `It’s a male pumpkin.´ `Of course. Pumpkins have gender?´ `Everything has an essence that defines its sex.´ Nick struggled not to laugh. Her serious expression forbade it. `I see. It’ll he’ll be fine. Are you sure you don’t want to buy him a lady friend before we go?´ `I’m sure.´ Nick just shook his head. Faerie logic would be the death of him yet. The morning’s destination was a scenic overlook abutted by a crumbling, moss-covered stone wall. The view rivaled anything visible in the Fae realm and made Callie homesick. She shivered in the autumn breeze. Nick put his own jacket around her shoulders, and her heart thumped wildly. `It’s colder than I expected up here.´ He stood close, and Callie leaned into his warmth, wishing for the endless summer of her world. `There’s the road back to Bayerville. If you look past that farm and along the tree line, you can see the hiking trail that leads to the skating pond.Ćallie followed Nick’s tour of the fiery landscape lit with brilliant gold and orange foliage. Country traffic meandered along thin ribbons of road that wound through the hills. Here and there, the familiar shapes of grazing horses and cows dotted the hillsides, and not a single cloud interrupted the endless blue of the October sky. `It’s beautiful,śhe whispered, fighting to keep her voice light. `It reminds me of home.´ `What’s your world like? Do the seasons change?´ `Not like they do here. We have a time when the leaves change color and a time when the flowers bloom, but it never becomes unbearably hot or cold. We don’t get rain«unless we want to create some. It never gets dark.´ Nick surveyed the land spread out before them. `Rain isn’t so bad. Sometimes it can be«sort of comforting.´ `You love it here, don’t you?´ Nick seemed reluctant to answer, but Callie felt his thoughts. He wanted this to be his home, but he didn’t want to need it so badly. `It’s nice here. It’s nice in a lot of places I’ve been.´ `You love open space. You hated the time you spent in the cities, didn’t you?´ He nodded, snaking his arm around Callie’s waist, making her stomach flutter. `I hate smog. Traffic. Subways.´ `I bet you love snow, don’t you?´ He grinned. `You say that like it’s a bad thing.´ `Snow is nice. It’s a little too cold for me. What else do you love?´ `I love sleeping in hammocks and cold lemonade and«´ `What else?´ His eyes narrowed on her, and she sensed his discontent. `I can see right through you, Tinkerbell. This is some kind of lesson, isn’t it?´ Callie feigned innocence. `I just want to know more about you.´ `I hate mind games and psychobabble.Ćallie pulled away from him, though she was reluctant to leave the safe circle of his arms. `It’s not a game, Nick. When love is gone it’s all gone. You’ll lose it all.´ `I said I’d help you with this mission of yours ´ `It’s for both of us, Nick. Not just me. I want you to understand that.´ `I’m trying.´ He stepped forward and tilted her chin up with his fingers. `Tell me what you love.´ His lips hovered close to hers, and Callie’s breath caught. She could kiss him now and make him feel something he wouldn’t want to lose. But that wasn’t her mission. She moved back just enough to break the hypnotic pull between them. `I love helping people fall in love. And I don’t want to lose that.´ The rest of the day passed in a blur of crimson leaves and blue sky. They drove through the forest and back and had dinner in a small café that sold hand-churned ice cream and dusty antiques. Nick stayed close to Callie, aware of the glances of other men and feeling proprietary. By the time they returned home, the buzz of arousal had replaced the light mood of their afternoon. He followed her up the stairs and hesitated before unlocking the door. `Did you have a good time today?´ `I did. Maybe we can do this again sometime before«´ `Before what?´ `Before I go.´ `We don’t have to think about you going right now, do we?´ `No.´ He centered his gaze on her lips, pink and moist, still sweet from the peach ice cream he’d bought for her. He wanted a taste, and the sleepy-sultry look in her green eyes told him she did, too. He leaned in, his fingers creeping up under her jacket. A second later his lips nearly collided with the doorframe, and his hands closed on empty air. He caught himself before he stumbled, face first, through the door as she opened it from the inside. `Hi, Nick.´ `What was that about?´ He leaned one arm above her head
on the doorframe. `I almost kissed a brick.´ `I’m sorry about that, but we’re not here to fool around.´ `I wasn’t fooling.´ `Nick.Śhe put a soft finger across his lips and leaned close. The faint smell of roses teased him. `No distractions.Śhe turned and walked into the apartment, disappearing into the kitchen. Nick watched her go. He’d been shot down before, not often, of course, but there were certain women on which the Garrett charm just didn’t work. Somehow, his borrowed intuition told him Calliope was not one of them. He’d seen desire in her eyes, felt it each time their fingers touched. Something held her back, though, and he vowed to figure out what it was. He needed to uncover all her secrets, and he wasn’t going to let her disappear without knowing exactly what she was all about.