Matched

by S. E. Lund

  "You're good at this," India says, helping me with the preparation and cooking by keeping my glass of wine topped up. I do the rest, not trusting her with a chef's knife. I've seen her injured fingers when came in one day after having cut herself chopping onions.

  While the chicken is simmering in the wine-mushroom sauce, we sit together on the patio overlooking the bay and enjoy the nightfall.

  "This is my favorite time of the day," she says wistfully. She's sitting on my lap on one of her huge deck chairs, her head leaning back beside mine. We're staring at the horizon where the sun has set and the sky is a deep purple-orange.

  Once the meal is done, we eat our supper on the patio by lantern light, toasting the success of the meal and talking about Pacifica and what's next on our agenda.

  It seems completely natural for us to do this – mix business with pleasure. We move flawlessly between talk of Pacifica and enjoying each other's touch. After cleaning up and returning to the porch, we spend more time talking about Pacifica and our plans for the future. Around nine thirty, when there's a pleasant lull in the conversation, there's a knock at the door.

  "What the fuck?"

  India glances at me. "No one comes over to my place without texting me first," she says and grabs her bag from the office.

  "Oh, crap," she says when she has her phone in hand. "It's Marina."

  I stand there, watching her panic. "Just answer the door."

  "She'll freak if she finds you here."

  "I've been here before," I reply.

  I go over to the door while India stands there like a deer in the headlights. I open it and there stands Marina, her cell in her hand.

  "Hey," she says.

  "Hey," I reply. "Come on in. India and I were just talking about Pacifica."

  "I figured you were here when I saw your car."

  Marina comes in. India's standing there, her phone in her hand.

  "Sorry," she says and shrugs helplessly. "My cell was in my bag in my office and I didn’t hear your texts."

  "Obviously," Marina says. "I just came over to check on you since you didn’t answer. You always answer."

  "Thanks for being concerned," India says.

  "It smells really good in here," Marina says and goes to the kitchen. There's a container of leftover chicken marsala in the fridge and I'm surprised at how free Marina feels to just barge into India's house and check out her food. "What's this?" she asks.

  "Chicken marsala," I reply. "I cooked tonight."

  "You cooked?" Marina asks, eyeing me.

  "I did," I said. "I'm renowned among my former Army buddies for my grub-cooking skills"

  "Do you want a glass of wine?" India offers and holds up her own glass. Her voice wavers, and I know she's nervous.

  Marina glances from me to India. "No, that's fine. I'll go."

  She turns and heads out the door and I can see India panic.

  I grab India and stop her. "Nice seeing you, Marina," I say.

  Marina turns back and glances at us once more. I can tell she's really fighting not to say something about me being there alone with India.

  "We'll talk later," she says to India and makes the phone sign with her hand.

  "Sure," India replies, forcing a smile.

  The door closes and India turns to me, her eyes wide. After we hear the car's engine, India bursts out laughing.

  "Oh my God," she manages between laughs. "What the hell just happened?"

  "Busybody Marina just happened." I go to India and pull her into my arms. "I think the cat's out of the bag now. You'll probably get an urgent call from her warning you off. You better practice your response."

  "I know what she'll say." India wraps her arms around my neck. "She'll say you're totally wrong for me and that I should be meeting the new man that MATCHED found for me.”

  "Yeah, another pencil-necked professor," I say with a laugh.

  "Hey, my dad is a pencil-necked professor," she replies, punching me playfully in the shoulder.

  I pretend to wince. "But he's really nice," I reply.

  "He is," India says and adjusts my collar.

  "But you don't want someone like your father," I reply.

  "He is too much of an egghead for me."

  "That's right. You want a man of action." I grin at her, pulling her against my hips. "Speaking of which, I want to get some more."

  She smiles up at me, a coy look in her eyes. "You're insatiable."

  "I am."

  I kiss her and soon, she's forgotten all about Marina's little trip to check on her.

  Later, we're lying together, basking in the afterglow of our mutual orgasms when India rolls over and lies on top of me.

  "So, are we going to be out as a couple? I mean at work?"

  "People already suspect," I reply. "If you want people to know, you can let them know. If not, I'm fine with it."

  "You don't care?"

  "Not at all," I reply and run my fingers down a strand of her hair. "I don't care if they know or if they only guess. It doesn't matter."

  She nods and sighs. "I'll play it by ear."

  Then she rolls off and gets up, grabbing her dress and thong, and walking to the bathroom for her ritual after-sex pee. I lie on the bed and listen as she finishes and washes her hands. I don't feel a need at the moment, so I stay on the bed.

  She dresses and leaves the bathroom, taking the hallway to the living room. I wait for her to return, but she doesn't, so I get up and pull on my boxer briefs.

  India is in the living room, and she's reading texts, her hand over her mouth.

  "What's up? Marina already working on you?"

  She glances at me and holds her cell out.

  I take it and read the text. Just as I thought. Marina's at work.

  MARINA: It felt suspiciously like you and Jon were together when I was over there earlier. What’s going on?

  I hand it back to India. "What are you going to say?"

  "I'll tell the truth," she says. "That you came over to talk about some upcoming business and made supper. It was nice. That's true."

  "Okay," I say, narrowing my eyes at her. "That's not the entire truth. But like I said, I’ll leave it up to you what to reveal."

  She nods and types on her cell then hits send. She hands it back to me so I can see what she's written.

  INDIA: Jon wanted to go out for dinner and talk about Pacifica's upcoming contracts before he goes out of town. I didn’t feel like going out so he offered to cook. It was nice.

  "That's not really true," I say and hand her back the cell. I can't help but feel a bit impatient with India because she won't stand up to Marina. "I never offered to take you out for supper."

  She makes a face. "I know…" I hear a little ding, indicating an incoming text. She checks the cell.

  "Huh," she says, and hands the cell back to me.

  MARINA: Don't forget what I said about him. He can't commit to any one woman. You have to decide whether what he can give is enough for you. I know you want someone you can rely on – someone who knows what he wants and it's you.

  "That meddling little –" I stop before I say ‘bitch.’

  "Jon," she says and takes the phone back. She texts a response and sends it. Then she hands it to me.

  INDIA: Jon is who he is. Any woman with him has to accept him for what he can give. If she can't, she has no right to be with him.

  I read it over and glance at her. "You mean that?"

  "I do," she says and takes in a deep breath the way you do before you leap out of a plane with only a parachute on your back. "I'll do my best to take you as you are. We'll see where this goes. It may go nowhere. Or it may go somewhere. I'm willing to give you a chance."

  Her cell dings. She reads Marina's text and then sends off a reply, gets another response and sends another reply. Then, she hands the cell back to me.

  MARINA: I hope you know what you're doing. I have a great guy lined up for you if you want to check out his profile on MATCHED. Yo
u could come to my party on Saturday. Mid-thirties, wants to settle down, Assistant Professor of Biology at Stanford, lots of publications. Six feet three, built, dark hair and eyes. He's a hunk. You won't regret it.

  INDIA: I can look after myself. But thanks for the offer. I'm going to take it easy for a while and just focus on other things besides finding someone through MATCHED. I'm sure you have other female Stanford grads you can use to test it.

  MARINA: K sug, you know I love you.

  INDIA: Back at you! <3

  I smile and shake my head before handing the cell to India once more. "It's quite the insight into how your mind works, seeing your conversation with Marina. She obviously thinks she knows what's best for you and it isn't me."

  "No, she's made that very clear." She stuffs her cell into her bag.

  "You're so afraid of her that you won't just tell her the truth?"

  She sighs and sits on the sofa. I sit beside her, my arm around her shoulder.

  "It's just that she thinks she's this great matchmaker because she had success with a couple of our friends. So she thinks she has an instinct for people who belong together. She doesn’t think you and I belong together."

  "She's wrong. We obviously want to be together."

  "No," she says and shakes her head. "She means forever-together. You know, love and marriage and babies. The whole shebang."

  I nod. "What about her? Why is she still single?"

  India leans her head against my shoulder. "I don't know… She says she hasn't met her match yet. But she totally believes she will. She's the eternal optimist."

  "You have to put yourself out there," I say and run my hand over India's hair, which is down and soft, flowing over her shoulders. "She's so busy matching other couples up that she's denying herself."

  "She'll find someone."

  I think of Marina, with her black hair in her signature pig-tails and her dark-rimmed Harry-Potterish glasses. She looks so bookish and geeky that it's hard to imagine her with a man. She looks like she's ready to play some LARPG.

  For the rest of the evening, we never talk about work. Instead, we spend some time watching Netflix, and then it's late and I should really go home and hit the sack if I'm going to get up early and get ready for my trip.

  Now comes the moment when I have to leave and I don't know what India will think about it. Will she want me to stay?

  "I have to go," I say and kiss the top of her head. "I have the early-morning flight to Washington tomorrow. I have to pack and get some shut-eye."

  "Okay," she says and kisses me back when I kiss her. "You're back on Monday night?"

  I nod and pull her onto my lap. "Yes, and I want to come right over and drive you crazy with lust. At least four times."

  She smiles and nuzzles her face in the crook of my neck like she's still a little embarrassed.

  "I'll be waiting with bated breath for your return."

  We sit for a moment, enjoying each other's warmth and then I get up, picking her up as I do, and she slowly slides down my body until she's standing on her tiptoes.

  "You're going to make me want to stay for another hour," I say with a chuckle.

  "No, you should go," she says and runs her fingers through my hair. "Do your packing and get a good sleep. Text me when you can."

  "I will."

  I kiss her again and then go to the bedroom to gather the rest of my clothes. I dress while India watches me from the doorway, leaning on the doorjamb, her arms crossed. When I'm finished, she follows me to the front door, where I slip on my shoes. We embrace, kiss once more and say goodbye.

  I hop into my car, and drive off, watching her wave to me in the rear-view mirror.

  A completely successful night.

  While I'll miss her, I'm looking forward to a weekend with the guys from my old Army unit. I know I'll have a great time with them and we'll get some real work done on the security business they're thinking of starting.

  Still, it will be great to return on Monday and drive right over here from the airport to find her waiting for me.

  Ready and willing.

  Chapter 19

  INDIA

  I feel good yet sad when Jon drives away and I'm alone in the house. It’s not that I expected Jon to stay the night.

  Well, to be truthful, I would have been impressed if he had stayed, and simply got up an hour earlier to go to his place and pack before going to the airport.

  I want him in my bed.

  But it's probably for the best that he goes home and gets a decent sleep. There's no telling what he might do if he stayed with me – probably wake me up an hour early for a nice slow morning fuck. Then he'd be in a rush to pack and get to the airport.

  So, I take in a deep breath and go back out on the patio to watch the stars blinking over the ocean while I finish my nightly cup of hot tea. Marina got me in the habit when she was hugely into Harry Potter and went on an all-things-British jag, drinking tea like a proper Brit, eating British food and even using strange-sounding British words like jumper instead of sweater, fizzy drink instead of soda, and crisps instead of potato chips.

  Marina is such a geek. Which is why the two of us got along so well. It's strange to think that of all my friends and acquaintances, Marina would be the one to develop a dating app. It's hard to square the idea of her knowing so much about romance, considering she's only had one boyfriend and they broke up a couple of years earlier. She's been single ever since.

  But she's an analyst, even if only in psychology. She understands what makes people tick. To her, we're all emotion machines with algorithms we follow. She thinks she's cracked the romance algorithm, but sadly, I think her algorithm flopped.

  I’ve always told her to match herself with someone, but she says it's impossible. A matchmaker can never match themselves. While they see others clearly, and can tell who works with whom, they can't see themselves clearly.

  "But your algorithm should work, right?" I protested.

  "I don't like any of the matches it's made for me." She shrugged like it wasn't a bad thing. If it didn't work for her, why the hell would she think it would work for anyone else?

  So, poor Marina needs a matchmaker for herself. There aren't many dating apps that target geek girls, so until she meets someone with an algorithm as good as she was at matching people – or at least, an algorithm as good as we all thought she was – she'll stay single.

  I'm beginning to doubt her ability to match people at all, considering how poorly she's done for both Jon and me.

  Maybe those couples we all knew were freak accidents.

  The next day, I wake late and luxuriate in the freedom of sleeping in without worrying about going in to work. I'll go in later this afternoon for a couple of hours to catch up on work I missed while my mom was first in the hospital.

  While I'm enjoying a morning coffee in my pajamas on the patio, watching ships in the harbor, I get a text from Jon.

  JON: Flight was delayed, and now we're stuck in Denver for three hours. How did you sleep?

  I smile and text him back, glad that he texted me to re-establish our connection.

  INDIA: I slept like a baby. I guess I really needed to have dinner cooked for me.

  JON: It wasn't the chicken marsala you needed. ;)

  I laugh and imagine him texting me, grinning.

  INDIA: I needed what you had to give.

  JON: You did. I'm warning you. There's a lot more where that came from. Be prepared.

  I laugh out loud at that.

  INDIA: Oh, believe me. I have a pretty good idea what I'm in for.

  JON: Good. I have plans for the night of my return. Keep it open, okay?

  INDIA: It’s open. Talk later. I'm going in to work soon.

  JON: Hey, what happened to when the cat's away, the mice will play?

  INDIA: I'm the cat as well, you know…

  JON: You are the cat's meow, to quote my grandad.

  INDIA: GROAN

  JON: Later.

&
nbsp; I smile at the cat emoticon he sends me and sit imagining him in Denver's airport, seated in the first-class lounge, texting me.

  I arrive at the office and spend an hour finishing up a couple of reports I got from one of our suppliers. It's dry technical stuff so I need an extra cup of coffee to make it through. I take my bag and go down the street to my favorite local coffee shop on the next block. I've been going there for years, and they know me behind the counter, and start preparing my coffee when they catch sight of me outside the door.

  It's busy this morning, as usual, and so I stand in line. When I arrive at the till, my coffee is ready without me having to order it, and when I move over to pay, I bump into someone. Before I can even say ‘excuse me,’ I glance up into the face of my ex.

  Blaine.

  He's grinning down at me, that old familiar quirk of a smile that used to make my knees weak.

  Mr. Seduction, Marina always called him.

  "Still like brown sugar instead of white?"

  I finish stirring and slip the lid on my take-out cup, a jolt of adrenaline flowing through me.

  "Still do." I finish paying and smile at the cashier. Then, I step away and turn to Blaine. "What are you doing in town?"

  He glances around, apparently pleased to be back. "I'm back to open an office in San Francisco. Decided to visit my old haunts. Fancy meeting you here."

  "Yes," I say, struggling for words. I'm just so totally shocked to see him that I'm at a loss. I stand there, coffee in hand, staring at nothing, wondering what I'm going to do if he's back and starts to hang out again with our old friends. Who are all still my friends.

  "So, how are things? I talked to Marina this morning. She told me you're still with Pacifica. I hear it's doing pretty well. Congrats."

  "Thank you," I say, trying to be polite. "Where's your office going to be?" I'm busy thinking through what this means. I hope he's not going to be in this neighborhood. The last thing I need is to see him every day.

  "Just down the block. I love this area of the city and have a great space in a building with the entire top floor to myself. I'm meeting with some developers to work on a new media project. We should definitely go out for a drink later. What are you doing tonight?"