Not Your Match

by Lindzee Armstrong

  “She left you?”

  Ben nodded. “It’s always the same story—I wake up one morning to a note, and she vanishes. I spend a few days tracking her down, making sure she’s safe. And after a few weeks, she comes home, and things go back to how they were.” He tossed aside a box of electronic cables for the television. “I can’t do it anymore. This was the last straw.”

  “Why does she do that?” Andi’s expression was appalled.

  “Rachel never told you?”

  Her blank stare was answer enough.

  Ben sighed, rolling his shoulders. He didn’t know why he was surprised. Rachel and Whitney were as close as sisters, and Rachel didn’t like to talk about Whitney’s “problem.” Not that she knew how bad it was. Rachel seemed to think if she pretended it didn’t exist, it’d go away. Which was pretty much how Whitney dealt with it, too. “Whitney’s severely bipolar. She was diagnosed a few months after we started dating, right after her first ‘episode.’” He made air quotes with his fingers. “That’s what her therapist likes to call it when she goes off her meds and disappears from life.”

  “Oh, Ben.” Andi rested her hand on his arm. “I didn’t know.”

  Ben gulped. His skin prickled and burned where Andi’s fingers grazed it. “Rachel doesn’t like to talk about it. Neither does Whitney, for that matter. She thinks she’s fine. And she is, as long as she takes her medication. I know it doesn’t work for everyone, but it does wonders for her.”

  “But she doesn’t always take it.”

  “No, she doesn’t. After she goes a few months on the meds, she forgets what it’s like without them. She convinces herself she’s fine, that she can handle life on her own. She hates being tied to the medication. It makes her gain weight and she says it gives her brain fog. So she stops taking the pills, and she’s a good enough actress that I usually don’t notice right away. But after a few weeks, she’s moody and depressed all the time. By then it’s too late.” Ben swallowed, the pain and soul-crushing fear of the last four years washing over him. “I can’t get her out of bed. I can’t make her eat. We’ll fight because I’ll try and make her go see a therapist and take her medication. And then she’ll run away. Once she hits rock bottom, whatever friend she’s crashing with calls me or her parents, and we convince her to go see her therapist. Sometimes she’s hospitalized for a while. Then she starts taking her medication, and everything’s great again.”

  “That sounds awful.”

  “It is.” It was hard loving someone more than they loved themselves. He wouldn’t stick around to watch her destroy her life. If she had been willing to try, met him halfway …

  But she hadn’t.

  Andi wrapped her arms around Ben. He held her tight, relishing the feel of human contact. Whitney had rarely been capable of listening to him talk, and physical affection had been infrequent.

  “Thanks for listening,” Ben said.

  “Of course.” Andi pulled away and pushed aside a box, as though sensing he needed a subject change. “Looks like we’ve unpacked everything in here. You don’t have much.”

  Most of it had been Whitney’s. He’d dropped her stuff off at her parents on his way out of town.

  “Should we do the kitchen next?” she asked.

  “Sure. But I really can do this by myself.”

  “Not a chance. We’re getting this done by kickoff. Then I’m buying a pizza and cream soda. We need to christen your new condo in style.”

  A couple of hours later, they sat in front of the TV, a beer in one hand and pizza slice in the other. His end table was piled with his favorite home improvement magazines, just like he’d imagined. There were dishes in the cupboards and clothes in his dresser. With Andi’s help, they’d unpacked every box. Not that there’d been many.

  “Go!” Ben yelled at the screen as the quarterback ran the play. He took a bite of pizza. This place already felt like home.

  The game went to commercial, and Ben stretched. “Need another drink?” he asked Andi.

  “I’m good, thanks.”

  Ben fought the urge to rest his arm along the back of the couch and pull Andi close. This isn’t a date, he reminded himself. They were just friends, even if Andi was every guy’s dream come true. “More pizza?”

  Andi laughed, patting her flat stomach. “I’ve already had three slices.”

  “Can I get you anything at all? Seriously, you’ve helped me so much today.”

  “Actually, there is something you can do for me.”

  “Okay.” He took a sip of his drink. Maybe she needed help with something in her condo. Perhaps the faucet leaked, or she needed shelving for a closet.

  “One of my friends called yesterday and asked me to teach a ballroom dance class to teens. It’s every Tuesday for two hours starting next week.”

  “That’s great.” Ben smiled, pleased at the idea of Andi dancing again. She worked too hard. “I’m glad you’re picking it up again.”

  “I need to find a dance partner to co-teach with.”

  Ben’s palms started sweating. Flashes of dances they’d shared made his whole body heat. “Me?”

  “You said if I started dancing again, so would you.” Andi leaned forward, resting her elbows on her knees. “C’mon, Ben. It’ll be fun. Like the good ol’ days.”

  “Right. It’ll be exactly like going back ten years in time.” Right down to his pathetic crush on the unattainable girl.

  “The classes are free for troubled youth. Elle works for a nonprofit that tries to give kids a better future.” She bumped her foot against his, sending fire through his veins. “You can say no, but then I’ll become Andi Harmon, Attorney at Law and talk you into it.”

  Dancing with Andi took no convincing. “Okay.”

  She blinked, her eyes widening. “Really? I had a speech prepared and everything.”

  “I can say no if you want to give it to me.”

  Andi cocked her head to the side, putting a finger to her lips. “If I give you the speech, I’m going to have to bill you for my time.”

  Ben laughed. “By all means, don’t give me the speech then. I doubt I can afford your rate. It’ll be fun to hit the dance floor with you again. You always were my favorite partner.”

  “You were mine, too.” She threw her arms around his neck. “Thank you. It’s going to be awesome. Promise.”

  Ben wrapped his arms around her, relishing the hug. Her soft, warm body brushed against his, and he closed his eyes. “I believe you.”

  “You’re not going to back out, are you?”

  Ben thought of placing his hand at her waist, of holding her warm fingers in his. Of being close enough to smell her apple shampoo and coconut lip gloss once a week for two hours. His nerves buzzed with anticipation. “I’m not going to back out. I can’t wait to start.”

  Andi knew if she didn’t make an appointment with Toujour soon, Rachel would keep pestering her until she did. First thing Monday morning, Andi called Toujour. They’d had a cancellation and so she was able to get in the next day.

  She nearly called and canceled. She picked up the phone half a dozen times during work on Tuesday, only to hang it up again without dialing. The whole idea of a matchmaker was bizarre, and it wasn’t like she wanted to date again. But then she thought of Rachel’s face, her eyes wide and desperate for Andi to accept the olive branch that would sweep away her guilt.

  She’d go to the appointment, awkward as it would be.

  A long day at work meant she had to rush to make it on time. Andi fought through snarling traffic and pulled into a packed parking lot on the side of the building. Manicured hedges stood on either side of the front door, and three men lounged against the wall, cameras around their necks. Reporters? They straightened and glanced over at the sound of her footsteps, then relaxed and went back to talking.

  Who were they waiting for? Luke Ryder?

  Andi pulled open the glass door and stepped inside. She was nearly knocked back by the overpowering scent of incense. She c
ouldn’t place the fragrance but it was spicy and sweet. The front lobby was crowded, every chair filled with a woman holding a tablet.

  Andi shook her head and took her place in line behind three women and a man who appeared to be waiting for the receptionist’s help. Did these people really believe Toujour would help them find their soul mate? It was ridiculous.

  The receptionist handed a tablet to a woman, and the line moved forward. Andi glanced at her watch. How long was this going to take? She had case files to review and a contract to write.

  The receptionist spoke with the man in line, then handed him a tablet as well. Andi glanced at her phone. If this line didn’t move, she’d miss her appointment time. The next woman was helped quickly, but the one in front of Andi took longer. She glanced at the time again, a headache forming behind her eyes from the strong incense.

  Why had she let Rachel talk her into this? She didn’t have time for dating, and she didn’t want to make time for it. Dancing with Ben every Tuesday would be free time enough for her.

  “Next.”

  Finally. Andi stepped forward. “I have an appointment. Andi Harmon.”

  The receptionist tapped the keyboard. “Oh good, you’ve already filled out your initial profile. I’m out of tablets.”

  Andi’s eyes flicked to the waiting women and men. There were at least ten of them now.

  “Zoey is your assigned matchmaker,” the receptionist continued. “Let me take you to Parlour Four, and she’ll be with you shortly.”

  Andi followed her down a short hallway that opened into a room filled with cubicle spaces for twenty. A glass-enclosed conference room was at the back, and doors covered in posters of sappy couples lined the two walls. The receptionist led Andi to a room with a big number “4” on it in a swirly vinyl lettering.

  “Please, have a seat. I’ll let Zoey know you’re here.”

  Two chic chairs and a sleek black coffee table were in the room, and some cheesy quote about love being friendship set to music was on one of the gray walls. This place certainly liked their vinyl lettering. Toujour wasn’t anything like Andi expected. Not that she’d really put a lot of thought into it. But modern furniture, clean-cut lines, and incense hadn’t occurred to her.

  Andi sat in one of the chairs, dropping her purse onto the floor beside her. Now what? She glanced at her phone again. Zoey was two minutes late.

  She’d give her three more minutes, then she’d march to the front and demand her gift certificate be refunded. If she tossed out her law degree, she doubted they’d put up a fight. Maybe if she let Rachel set her up with someone, her friend would be content.

  The door opened, and a woman walked in. The first thing Andi noticed was her hair. A fringe of bangs brushed her forehead, and vibrant red highlights were sprinkled liberally throughout her choppy layers. Andi’s eyes traveled down to the woman’s daring dress that clung to every curve. She was younger than Andi had expected, perhaps close to her own age. For some reason, Andi had thought the matchmakers would all be middle-aged. The woman’s high heels were at least six inches tall, and Andi wondered what it would be like to dance in them.

  The woman smiled and walked over to Andi, extending a hand. Andi rose and shook it.

  “Hi, Andi,” the woman said. “I’m Zoey, your matchmaker. I’m here to help you find love.”

  Was that a smile or a smirk? They both sat down, and Andi eyed the woman like she was a witness on the stand.

  “Nice to meet you,” Andi said. Was Zoey mocking her? And if so, for what?

  Zoey set her laptop on the coffee table and leaned back in her chair, crossing one leg casually over the other. “I’d like to start by getting to know you. As your matchmaker, it’s my job to help you find and build a lasting relationship, and I can do that better if I know you as a person.” The words were sweet, but Andi heard the mockery barely hidden underneath. Thousands of hours in a courtroom had made her an expert in reading people.

  Zoey didn’t believe in this anymore than Andi did. She’d bet her life on it.

  “Tell me, what brought you to Toujour?” Zoey asked.

  “What brings anyone to Toujour?” Andi asked.

  Zoey laughed. “That’s the sort of answer I’d expect from a lawyer. I read over your initial profile this morning.”

  Andi stared at Zoey, trying to decide where to go from here. She decided to tell Zoey the truth and see her reaction. “My best friend brought me to Toujour.”

  Zoey groaned, running a hand through her hair. “Please tell me your best friend is a woman. I’ve got more than enough friends-in-love-with-each-other drama to deal with right now.”

  Zoey’s tone changed as she said the words, and Andi realized it was the first genuine thing she’d said since entering the room.

  “It’s nothing like that,” Andi said. “Rachel blames herself for my last breakup, and she thinks she can somehow fix it by helping me find love again. Ridiculous, right?” She watched Zoey closely, wondering how she’d react.

  Zoey’s eyes gleamed. “There’s definitely a story there. Why does she think your breakup is her fault?”

  Andi pursed her lips, wondering how much to tell Zoey. But what did she have to lose? She didn’t want a relationship. She didn’t want to date.

  Her mind flashed back to Saturday night, and how great it had felt to sit next to Ben and enjoy the football game together.

  No. That hadn’t been a date, however giddy he made her. They were just friends.

  She gave Zoey the summarized version of her breakup with Mark and why Rachel felt responsible. “So here I am,” Andi said. “Rach went behind my back and bought me a three month subscription. Frankly, a matchmaking firm seems like a weird way to re-enter the dating scene, but that’s Rachel.”

  “Finally,” Zoey said, her eyes gleaming.

  “Finally what?”

  “Finally I have a client that isn’t a hopeless romantic.”

  A smile slowly curled up the corners of Andi’s mouth. “You don’t buy into matchmaking any more than I do,” Andi said. That’s what had been off about Zoey.

  “Matchmaking works,” Zoey said. “I’ve matched up enough couples to prove that. But it only works if you believe it can. Skeptics rarely walk out of here happy.”

  “You think this is a ridiculous way to find love.”

  Zoey chewed on her lip. “I knew there was a reason lawyers made me nervous. You’re too perceptive for your own good.”

  Andi laughed, leaning back in her chair. Poor Zoey. It must be exhausting to work as a matchmaker when you weren’t a romantic. “I’m definitely a skeptic. Tell me I’m a hopeless cause, and I can tell Rach I tried. Then we’re both off the hook.”

  “What do you want from Toujour, Andi? What, in your mind, is the best case scenario when you leave here?”

  Andi stared at Zoey, and Zoey stared back, unflinching. There was a raw honesty in her eyes again, and Andi knew she was seeing Zoey the Person, not Zoey the Matchmaker. “Best case scenario, I’d date a guy for a few weeks—just long enough for Rachel to think it’s a real relationship—and then break it off in a way Rachel won’t blame herself for. Rachel no longer feels guilty, I don’t have to deal with a relationship, and the guy wouldn’t get hurt. I know it’s asking for the impossible, but that’s what I want.”

  Zoey grinned, a sly smile that gave her a catlike appearance. “Andi, I think I can give you exactly what you want.”

  Andi raised an eyebrow. “And how are you going to do that?”

  “I have the perfect match for you.” Zoey tapped a red nail against her lips. “Have you heard of Luke Ryder?”

  “Of course. My mom said to make sure I tell you I’m the perfect girl for him.” Andi laughed at the absurdity of the idea.

  “I think your mom’s right.”

  “What?” Andi leaned forward, nearly scooting off the chair in shock.

  Zoey blew out a breath. “Okay, I’m taking a huge risk telling you this. But you’re a lawyer so I assume yo
u know how to keep a secret.”

  Andi folded her arms, appraising Zoey. “Of course.”

  Zoey looked over her shoulder at the door, then leaned forward and lowered her voice. “Toujour has had a rough few years, financially speaking. Brooke, one of the matchmakers here—and my roommate—came up with the idea of asking Luke to sign on as a client to increase business. They’re best friends and the guy lives and dies by her command.”

  “Okay …” It was an interesting story, but Andi failed to see what any of this had to do with her.

  “Luke’s in love with Brooke. Like head-over-heels, grow-old-together, this-is-thereal-deal love. But Brooke’s stubborn.” Zoey waved a hand dismissively. “The particulars aren’t important. What is important is that Brooke loves Luke too, but she’s engaged to this douche bag Italian. That’s where you come in.”

  Andi smirked. “You want me to get her to sign something promising she’ll marry Luke?”

  “If it was that easy, I’d have done it years ago. No, what Luke needs is a fake girlfriend for the press. He’s been on eight first dates and no second dates, and everyone’s freaking out. And Brooke needs to get jealous. She saw your profile pop up in the database this morning, and she thinks you’d be a good match for Luke. So do I.”

  Understanding dawned. “You want me to fake date your celebrity client.”

  “It’s perfect. You want a fake relationship to get Rachel off your back, and this gives Luke a way to appease the press. You won’t get all clingy and mess things up with him and Brooke. I’ve read your file. You come from a wealthy family. You’re a successful lawyer. You’re exactly the kind of girl the press expects him to date, and exactly the kind of woman who can handle the publicity with grace. So what do you say?”

  Andi leaned back in her chair. This was the last thing she’d expected when she made this appointment. She mulled it over as though it were a contract, looking for loopholes that could cause issues. The press could find out it was all a sham, but that would hurt Luke far more than it would hurt her. Luke could be a pretentious bore, like most CEOs she’d met, and hanging out with him could be torturous. But it would be worse to lead someone on.