Not Your Match (9 page)

“Are you sure you know how to do this?” he asked.

Andi pointed an accusing finger in his face. “Doubter! The cinnamon rolls turned out okay, didn’t they?”

“They were without a doubt the most delicious cinnamon rolls I’ve ever tasted.”

“Of course they were. And now I’m going to make the best darn sugar cookies you’ve ever tasted.”

“Can I help?”

“No. I don’t want you claiming credit when these cookies turn out amazing. Just sit there until it’s time to roll out the dough.”

Talking was limited as Andi poured ingredients and mixed the dough. Ben had to admit, she seemed like she knew what she was doing. He sank onto a barstool and allowed himself to relax as he watched her bake. This felt like Christmas—smiling faces, friendly conversation, and no stress. He hadn’t had this enjoyable of a holiday since his first Christmas with Whitney, when they’d only been dating a few months

Andi hummed along to the music as she wiped down the counter, then sprinkled flour over it and rolled out dough.

“Are you going to at least let me help cut out the cookies?” he asked.

“I don’t know. Are you going to steal the glory when they turn out perfect?”

He held up his hands. “You get complete credit. Cross my heart and hope to die.”

“Good.” She pointed her rolling pin at him menacingly. “Rachel is fed up with me lately, and I need these cookies to get back on her good side. Wash your hands and I’ll let you help.”

Ben rose and walked around the island to the sink. “Why are you on Rachel’s bad side?”

Andi gave him a sideways glance. “She gave me an interesting Christmas present, and I’m not sure I was as appreciative as she expected me to be.”

Ben raised an eyebrow. Rachel hadn’t mentioned this gift to him. “What kind of present?”

“A gift certificate to a matchmaking company called Toujour.”

Ben should’ve been surprised, but he wasn’t. “That sounds like Rachel. Is this matchmaking like online dating?”

“No, it’s more of the Fiddler on the Roof variety.”

Ben whistled. That sounded serious, like the people who signed up were looking for marriage. His nerves twinged uncomfortably. “I didn’t know that was still a thing.”

“Me neither.”

“So you don’t want to sign up?” Surely Andi couldn’t want that. Not now, when she’d just gone through a messy breakup.

“Not even a little. I’m through with love. Seeing Mark today only reminded me of that.”

Okay, so she definitely wasn’t looking for a husband. Or a relationship of any sort. That was fine, though. He wasn’t either. It made her the perfect friend. “So what are you going to do?”

Andi sighed. “I think I have to sign up for Toujour. It’s the easiest way to absolve Rachel of her guilt.”

So she’d be dating again, and soon. “Are you sure you’re ready for that?”

She raised a shoulder. “Is anyone ever ready to get back out there?”

“I guess not.”

“I mean, you’re not ready to date again, are you?”

“Of course not.” Not when he kept thinking about that text from Whitney. Not when a part of him longed to call her, just to hear her voice. To know she was okay.

Andi placed the cookie sheet in the oven and set a timer. “Want to play a game while we wait?” Andi asked. “I got Jenga at the work white elephant gift exchange.”

“Sure,” Ben said.

So Andi would date again, and they would remain friends. That was perfectly fine. Better than fine, even.

He would be the best darn friend Andi had ever had.

Andi flipped through the photographs, her stomach curling at the evidence of infidelity. Her client suspected his wife was having an affair, and the private investigator Andi worked with regularly had found the proof.

She flipped the photographs over, face-down on her desk so she wouldn’t have to look at the sickening images. She opened the file folder and read through the private investigator’s notes. As usual, he’d been meticulous. Andi had no doubt that with this evidence, her client would get more than his fair share of the assets, and not have to pay alimony to boot. She’d make sure of it.

Andi picked up the phone and dialed her client’s number. The conversation went better than expected, and she hung up the phone only twenty minutes later. She stretched, looking at the clock. 4:52. In two hours she would be at her parents for a day-late Christmas dinner. Her dad would ask her about work. What would she tell him?

There was a knock at the door, and Holly stepped inside. “You’re not going to believe who I just got off the phone with.”

Andi raised an eyebrow. “Who?”

“Mr. Bearded Dragon.”

Andi groaned, slumping over her keyboard.

Holly sank into a chair. “He’s decided he wants the pet. He wants to re-negotiate.”

“They already signed the contracts.”

“I know. He says he won’t go through with the wedding on those conditions.”

Andi rubbed her hands over her face. “Then maybe he should call the wedding off. This couple is doomed.”

“I told him to take a couple of days to think about it, and if he still felt that way on Monday, we’d make a counteroffer to Deborah.”

At least Andi wouldn’t have to worry about it for the next two days. “Thanks for saving my weekend.”

“Hey, I got your back. We women have to stick together. Law is still a man’s world.”

Andi picked up a pen and clicked the end. “Sometimes I think it shouldn’t be my world.”

“You don’t mean that.”

Andi shrugged. “I always wanted to do family law, but I thought I’d be helping children in unstable situations or abused spouses or couples who were adopting. Not watching couples who professed to love each other until death rip each other apart.”

“Sometimes couples get vicious. But I take that as proof they’re better off alone.”

“Why do you love it so much? I’m losing all faith in humanity and their ability to love unselfishly.”

Holly shrugged. “My parents had a horrible, messy divorce that left my mom with almost nothing. I like making sure my clients don’t end up the same way. Unless they deserve it, of course.”

Andi’s phone rang, interrupting the conversation. The number didn’t look familiar, but in her line of work, she couldn’t afford to ignore calls.

Holly rose, mouthing a “bye.” Andi nodded and waved, then pressed the phone to her ear. “This is Andi Harmon.”

“Andi, it’s Elle.”

Andi’s stomach flipped. She hadn’t thought Elle would actually call.

“Hey,” Andi said.

“Sorry to bug you. Are you busy?”

Andi looked around her office, at the bookcase she needed to straighten, the pile of cases calling her name. The box of Mark’s stuff she still hadn’t taken to the post office. She should drop it off on his parents’ doorstep and save herself the postage, since he was in town. “I’ve got a few minutes. What can I do for you?”

“I’m in a bind. I’m calling to persuade you to teach at Footsteps for Change.”

Andi chewed on her lip. She really shouldn’t. But after the day she’d had, she was desperate to do something that had only ever brought her happiness. “I probably shouldn’t. I’m putting in a lot of hours at the office right now. But it’s a tempting offer. I do miss it.”

“If there’s any way you can make it happen, I’d be so grateful. I’m desperate. The instructors for our January class came down with mono and the doctor has put them under strict instructions to rest. None of my other instructors can take on an additional class, and I don’t know anyone else qualified. The kids will be so disappointed if we have to cancel.”

“When is it?”

“Every Tuesday for twelve weeks from six to eight, starting next week. All teenage students, and all beginners.”

Dancing. Not only dancing, but
teaching.
Andi glanced again at the pile of cases. Couples fighting over bearded dragons, Mexican shawls, custody. So much hate. Andi saw her clients at their worst.

She needed this. She needed to do something that made her feel like herself again. That reminded her not everything in the world was awful. She needed to help people for a change.

“I’ll do it,” Andi said.

Elle let out a happy squeal. “You’re a lifesaver. Is there any chance you know a guy who can come as your partner? If not, that’s fine. It just helps to have an experienced partner when teaching.”

It would definitely be worth two hours a week of Andi’s time if she could spend them dancing with Ben. He’d always been praised by their ballroom dance coach on his hip movements during Latin dances. She imagined his hands running down the sides of her body in the rumba, the sensual looks he’d given her for the benefit of the judges during competitions. Her skin flushed at the thought. “I know someone who might be interested.”

“You are amazing,” Elle said. “I’ll send the information to the email address on your business card. Thank you so much. You’re saving our bacon.” They said their goodbyes and hung up.

Dancing. Andi could almost feel the swish of a skirt, the arch of her foot as she sashayed in her heeled ballroom shoes.

She hoped Ben would say yes. She thought he would.

Andi managed to leave the office a few minutes before six. She was nearly to her parents’, dressed in a red silk holiday blouse and flowing black skirt, when her phone rang. She pushed the button on her bluetooth headset. “This is Andi.”

“Hey,” Rachel said. “I’m calling to invite you to a party on New Year’s Eve. Just a small get together with a few friends.”

Andi seriously doubted the “small” part. But Rachel’s parties were always fun. “Sure, sounds fun. What time?”

“Party starts at seven.” Rachel paused, and the silence stretched out, long and awkward.

“Is there something else you wanted to tell me, Rach?”

“I was wondering if you’d be coming alone.”

“Rachel Madison Cartwright.”

“Well, I thought maybe you’d been matched up with someone perfect already.”

Andi sighed, pulling to a stop in front of her parent’s house. “I’m sure they were closed yesterday for Christmas, and I didn’t have time to schedule my first appointment today.”

“You are going to make it though?”

“I will. Promise.” And she would. Eventually.

“So it’ll be just you?” The disappointment in Rachel’s voice was evident by her long-suffering sigh.

“I might see if Ben wants to drive over together. I’m assuming he’s invited, and it doesn’t make sense to bring two cars.”

There was a pregnant pause on the other end of the line, the kind Andi knew meant Rachel didn’t like something. “Are you sure that’s a good idea? I mean, what if Whitney found out?”

“Oh my gosh. I’m at my parents now. Bye, Rach.” Andi clicked off her phone. She loved her best friend, but she really had to stop meddling.

Ben was moving in tomorrow. She’d ask him about New Year’s Eve and dancing then.

Andi got out of the car, staring up at her childhood home. The towering Beverly Hills mansion was all climbing ivy and stone. She blew out a breath. As if the phone call with Rachel wasn’t bad enough, now she’d have to sit through three hours of her mother hinting at which young men in their circle of acquaintances were single.

Andi walked up to the massive double doors and knocked twice before letting herself inside. “I’m here, Mom.” She pulled off her jacket and hung it up in the coat closet next to the door.

Her mom appeared at the top of the stairs, fastening an earring. “Hi, dear. Your father should be down any minute. He had a few things to take care of as soon as we got back from New York.”

“How was the flight?” Andi asked.

“Not bad. I slept for most of it while your father worked.” Her mom floated down the stairs and gave Andi a hug. “I love that shirt. Is it new?”

“No.”

“Oh. Well, come into the kitchen. You can help me set the table. The caterers delivered the meal about ten minutes ago and it’s sitting in warmers.”

Andi followed her mom into the massive kitchen. She grabbed a stack of plates from one of the dark wood cabinets and set them on the granite counter top, then grabbed salad plates and stemware.