Page 1 of Failure to Match

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“Sixty-seven failed matches.Sixty-seven.”

I knew it was coming, yet I still flinched when the leather folder slapped the oak conference table.

You’d think I’d be used to it by now. Alice and Mitchboth seemed to be.

“How is it possible that you haven’t been able to find a single appropriate match for the only client that actually fucking matters?How? What the fuck am I paying you three for?”

It was a trick. You weren’t supposed to answer her.

“Someone answer me.Now.”

My gaze dropped to my lap, which was a mistake. The only thing Vivian Hale disliked more than an incompetent employee was a spineless one.

Sure enough, the nanosecond I cowered, her attention zeroed in on me, her neck tugging back like a viper preparing to strike.

“Jamie,” she snapped. “You’ve been keeping awfully quiet today. Care to chime in?”

Not even a little, no. What was the point when she wasn’t willing to listen?

Still, I lifted my chin and set my shoulders back. I had my answers memorized by this point. It was just a matter of reciting them.

Here was the thing—Vivian didn’t actually want an explanation as to why we’d spent the last eight months failing to do our collective jobs. She didn’treallywant to hear why we were struggling to find a suitable match for (arguably) the most eligible bachelor in North America and (inarguably) her most high-profile client.

If Vivian wanted real answers, she would have listened to us half a year ago when we’d warned her this might happen.

The only thing the CEO of Charmed Elite wanted to hear was yet another lie about how we had A Very Thorough Action Plan in place to address The Issue and werethis closeto getting her results. Because at the end of the day, failing to find a match for Jackson Sinclair would be irrevocably detrimental to the reputation she’d spent twenty-odd years building—the one that had her hailed as the number one matchmaker in the world.

The industry was small, and the Sinclairs were… well, they wereThe Sinclairs. One of the wealthiest, most influential families in the country. Money talked, and word of mouth was everything in this business. If we failed, rumors would spread that Vivian had lost her touch, and our competitors would start circling our existing clients like vultures, waiting for the inevitable exodus that would follow if Minerva Sinclair decided to take her business elsewhere.

The super fun part? Vivian was flat-out in denial. She didn’t want to accept that we’dalreadyfailed, which was why Alice, Mitch, and I had spent the last few days brushing up our résumés instead of working. Because when this whole thing ultimately blew up, Vivian needed someone to blame. Getting fired was an inevitability.

Clearing my throat, I shot her a reassuring smile and?—

“It’s not us.”

My mouth snapped shut, my eyes flaring as they darted to Alice.

Vivian’s neckslooowlyrotated in her direction, her glare lethal.“What?”

“It’s not us, Vivian,” Alice repeated calmly. Too calmly. She sounded almost bored. “It’s him.”

Mitch and I exchanged questioning glances as Vivian let the silence stretch, daring her to go on.

Alice wasn’t deterred, though. Instead of shutting up, she lifted an unapologetic shoulder and let it fall. Not for the first time, I was convinced she didn’t experience fear the way the rest of us did. Likely due to her upbringing.

I’d feel invincible too, if I had her financial safety net.

“He’s impossible.” She held Vivian’s glare with unbothered ease. “Jamie tried to warn you this would happen six months ago, but you didn’t want to hear it.”

Mitch jerked beside me, kicking Alice under the table from the feel of it. He was ignored.

Inspired by her no-fucks-given approach, I sat up a little straighter. Maybe today was the day. Maybe this time Vivian would listen. “Viv, there are less than a hundred single women in the entirety of North America that meet his criteria and, as of yesterday, he’s turned down sixty-seven of them.”

“So?”

I thought that part was pretty self-explanatory but okay, I could spell it out for her. “We don’t really know what else you want us to do. Mitch and Alice have been working nights and weekends to find appropriate matches for his standing appointments, and I’ve been staying late to do damage control on the carnage of angry tears and bruised egos he’s leaving behind. We’re tired.”

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