Not Your Match (12 page)

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 cat-like 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 you 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-the-real-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.

This could work. It would get Rachel off her back. Andi would have a rebound boyfriend to parade around—one that was clearly superior to Mark. Rachel would congratulate herself on salvaging the whole Mark situation, and when Andi and Luke ‘broke up,’ Rachel would have a clear conscious.

“I’ll do it,” Andi said.

“I knew I liked you.”

“Are you like this with all your clients?”

“Heck no.” Zoey morphed her expression into the obnoxiously sweet and placating look from the beginning of their meeting and spoke in a syrupy voice. “I’m here to help you on the journey to the rest of your happily ever after.” She grabbed her laptop and opened the lid. “Now, we’ve got to keep up appearances. Let’s get through this bizarre questionnaire that’s supposed to help you find love.”

Ben left the school whistling. He’d spent another full day organizing his classroom, and it was finally finished. That gave him nearly a week to devote to lesson plans before school started. He couldn’t wait to change those up, now that he knew what equipment he had to work with for labs.

He was in his car on the way home when his phone rang. He fished it out of his pocket and answered without looking at the caller ID. “Hello?”

“Ben?”

He inhaled deeply and signaled to get off at the next exit. He had a feeling this was a conversation he didn’t want to be driving for. “What’s wrong, Barbara?”

“Whitney’s friend called today.”

Ben swore and pulled into the parking lot of a department store. “What’s wrong?”

“She’s worried about Whitney. She won’t get out of bed, refuses to eat. She’s been . . . saying things.”

Ben knew exactly what that meant. Whitney was suicidal. Again. His heart twisted in terror and he closed his eyes and tried to breathe. So many times he’d been scared to come home, scared of what he might find.

Was it his fault for not answering her texts?

“This is what happens when she’s off her meds,” he managed to croak out.

“I know, I know. Russ and I tried to talk to her, but she wouldn’t even answer the phone. We finally called her friend and she took the phone in and put it on speaker. I could hear Whitney breathing but she never responded to anything we said.”

Whitney needed to be hospitalized. Again. He was certain of it. Ben gripped his phone. He wanted to flip on the car engine, jump back on the interstate, and drive one hundred and ten miles an hour until he was in Las Vegas. Then he would find Whitney and physically drag her to a hospital if necessary. Anything to keep her safe.