Page 7 of Grudge Match

“Going to school,” Elodie whispers, her gaze fixed on the phone in my hand. “Do you have a message with my name on it?” She sinks her teeth into her bottom lip and waits for me to reply.

I can tell by the look on her face she’s hoping this is nothing more than a coincidence and I’m simply a man standing aimlessly in front of a grand piano with a phone in my hand.

I turn my phone to face her and point to her name on the screen. “What are the odds, huh?” It’s such a stupid thing to say, but I’m unsure what she expects from me. Does she want me to recuse myself? A woman we've never met in a city of eight million people decided we were the perfect match. That must count for something.

Shouldn’t it?

Elodie nods slowly, her eyes drifting from left to right, as if her brain struggles to form words. I’ve waited years for this moment, which has quickly become painfully awkward. She stares at me, frozen in time, probably calculating the distance between her and the closest exit. Even in her confused state, she’s the most beautiful woman I’ve ever seen, and if she believes I’ll let her walk away without a fight, she’s sadly mistaken. She can have the trip and the twenty-thousand dollars. I won’t insist on some sort of whirlwind romance that might scare her away for good. All I need is a chance. A slow one will do.

“Wait, no.” Elodie pouts as she mutters, shaking her head and pouting. She waves her phone in my face, evidence of something she’s too distraught to explain. “Did Devon put you up to this? Are you and he playing a cruel joke on me?”

I step forward, holding my hands out in mock surrender as I try to soothe her concerns. “Of course not. My boss’s wife gave me an invitation to this thing. I didn’t expect to be matched to anyone, least of all you. I didn’t even know you were living in the city. I would have reached out to you sooner.” I accidentally say the last part out loud and watch her gorgeous features twist with confusion.

“Why would you reach out—” Elodie stops mid-sentence and furrows her brow, seemingly trying to comprehend the information I spilled. “I don’t believe you didn’t know I was here. There are no secrets in Maple Ridge. Your brother has reached out to me several times to ask for another chance since his last girlfriend dumped him, and your mom asked me to Thanksgiving dinner last year.”

“She did? My mom invited you to dinner?” I clench my fists and swallow the anger clogging my throat. Is she trying to get them back together? She couldn’t show her face in the town square for weeks after Devon dumped Elodie. He may have been the high school football hero, but his stock dropped dramatically when he dumped the Apple Cider Festival Queen—the town’s highest honor. I can’t imagine she’d want to endure that kind of shaming again.

“I declined, of course.” Elodie drops her gaze to the floor and takes a deep breath. “This was obviously a big mistake. You don’t want to be matched to me anymore than I do to you, and maybe if we bring this huge error to Madame Colette’s attention, she’ll swap us out with other people.” Her angry voice turns sad and her gaze drops to the floor.

Is it so terrible to be matched to me?

The disappointed look on her face crushes my soul but gives rise to a wave of uncharacteristic optimism. I don’t want to swap. The gods, angels, or whatever is out there has given me the chance of a lifetime, and I would be a world-class idiot to let it slip through my fingers.

“I don’t want to talk to her,” I say, stepping closer and offering my hand. She doesn’t take it but lifts her chin and stares with suspicion. Turning on the little charm I have, I change course. “Let me buy you a drink or dinner. It’s Valentine’s Day, and I’d love to spend it with someone I know. I promise I won’t give you a hard time if you want to end things early.”

Elodie hesitates, then looks over her shoulder, motioning for someone to join us. I turn my head, peeking over Elodie’s head to figure out who is coming our way. My mind is still trying to put a name to her face when her voice clears up my confusion.

“Deacon LeBlanc! Is this a joke? Did stupid Devon put you up to this?” Ramona Smith, Elodie's bossy, loudmouth best friend, comes charging toward us, shaking her fist like she’s seconds from punching me into next week.

We shared words in the past. When my heartbreak turned me into a raging smartass, and my only outlet was treating Elodie like an intolerable brat, Ramona would swoop in to the rescue. I’m glad Elodie had someone to protect her from my inexcusable vitriol, but now that I’ve turned over a new leaf, I’d rather not have Ramona around.

I hold my hands out and stop her from coming too close. “This isn’t a joke. I’ve explained to Elodie that Madame Colette believed we were a match. Devon’s on the other side of the country. He and I rarely speak.” That’s the truth. My little brother isn’t the easiest person to get along with, and I’m sure he’d say the same thing about me.

“Let me see your phones.” Ramona swipes the phone from my hand and then reaches for Elodie’s. “Holy shit, Madame Colette really botched this. What are you going to do?” She doesn’t address her question to me. Leaning closer to Elodie, the pair slip a few feet away and begin whispering, lost in their own world, oblivious of the desperate man standing nearby.

Elodie returns with wide eyes and a shy smile. “There’s a nice lounge around the corner called The Velvet Note.” She points to the front side of the hotel, unaware she’s pointing directly into the park. The Velvet Note isn’t in that direction, but there is no sense in pointing that out.

“I know it well. Why don’t you both join me for a drink there? If we can make it a half hour without having a brawl, then we can go to dinner. I’m sure you'll feel more comfortable having Ramona's approval before we spend the day together tomorrow. If you’d still like to do that.” The last thing I want is company, but I’ll endure it for her sake.

Elodie shrugs with indecision. “Will you meet us there in about twenty minutes? I need to run to the ladies’ room and check on my friends.” She nods, answering her own question before twisting her hips to return to Ramona.

Trust is an essential part of any relationship. But we’re not technically there yet, and the lawyer in me tends to favor caution over risk. I place my hand on her shoulder and pass her my business card. “Text the number on the bottom. It’s the easiest way to have each other’s information.”

“Right now?” She stares at the card and taps the number on her screen. Her text appears on my phone, and I’m satisfied it’s legit.

“Twenty minutes?” I push my cuff back to look at my watch.

“Twenty minutes.”

Chapter Eight

“Please stop looking at the door.” I pinch Ramona’s forearm and cross my legs, uncrossing them moments later when I feel my dress bunch up at my waist. It’s hard to look good sitting on a barstool, but all other seats were taken. Thankfully, Ramona hovered near two dawdlers until her overbearing manner made them rush to pay their bill.

“I don’t want him to believe I’m happy about this situation. Of course, I’m elated beyond words, but this much hope could crash down on my head if it turns out to be a cruel practical joke.” I straighten my posture and bring the martini to my lips, careful not to lean forward like a teenage girl sipping her first daiquiri at a local drinking hole. I swear, I’ll never outlive that. “I wouldn’t doubt it if he thinks I’m madly in love with him and engineered this match. My prayers aren’t that effective.

“Are you happy? You’re not as freaked out as you should be?” Ramona asks, swinging her short legs off the stool until she’s able to face me. “And why are you preening? You look dewy and jittery, like a virgin on her wedding night. I know you’re still hanging on to that pesky V-card, but I don’t think you’ll hand it over to Deacon LeBlanc. You dated his kid brother and swore you couldn’t stand him after he called you a brat. Just enjoy the drink and tell him to skedaddle. I have reservations at Julian’s in forty-five minutes. Unless you’d rather spend the rest of the evening with him,” she teases, already three sheets to the wind.

I nod once, scanning the mirror behind the bartender for an unobscured view of the door. Ramona might be my best friend, but I’ve never shared my feelings for Deacon with her. On the contrary, I behaved like I couldn’t stand him rather than confide how his every slight tore my heart in two.

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