Page 16 of Failure to Match

My anger flared, a rush of buzzing warmth sprinting through my body.

“Says the man with the personality of a hardboiled egg.”

You could hear a fucking pin drop.

In my defense, I hadn’t meant to say it out loud.

Okay, that was a lie. I’d definitely meant to say it out loud.

“I beg your pardon?” His eyes slit into challenging icicles. He wasn’t smirking anymore.

I wondered what I’d need to do to get them to close all the way. It probably wouldn’t take much.

“Oh, I’m sorry, are you hard of hearing, Mr. Sinclair, or is wasting people’s time simply a hobby of yours?” I spat back.

Okay.

All right.

That one may have taken it a bit too far. I needed to reel it back. He deserved it, in my opinion, but Vivian was gaping at melike I’d smacked her across the face with a drowned sewer rat. This wasn’t how I was supposed to be behaving. She’d brought me here to act as a good little punching bag. The silent kind that didn’t talk back.

Maybe that was what Alice had been communicating with her look. She’d been trying to warn me.

Irritation swept over my skin, its claws sinking into my throat. It was an uncomfortably vivid sensation, and very new. I wasn’t used to this level of frustration. I wanted to throw something. Flip the whole room off. Cry.

Minerva Sinclair peeled off her sunglasses slowly, her slim, scrutinizing eyes running over me twice.

“Sorry,” I muttered to her—and heronly—while my fingers curled into my palms. “He said that to me last night. It was unwarranted and rather rude.”

Her right eyebrow arched. “Before or after your true identity was revealed?”

“Before,” I said, even though Vivian was giving me her shut-the-fuck-up-this-instant look.

What was she going to do? Fire me?

Jackson’s head jutted forward like he simply could not believe my audacity. “Is this your fucked up version of an apology?”

I ground my teeth, my nails digging into my palms, determined in their quest to draw blood. “Your chances of receiving any sort of apology from me were squandered the second you kicked me out of your apartment at night with no clothes and no working phone.”

Vivian’s soul was yanked straight out of her body. The color drained from her face so rapidly I thought she might faint. She didn’t know about the pool incident. She’d heard a shortened version of the story from Minerva over the phone last night,called us into her office bright and early this morning, and refused to hear us out when we’d tried to explain.

She had no context as to why I was inside Jackson Sinclair’s apartment naked. And you know what, maybe she didn’t deserve any.

Minerva’s face went slack before tightening again, and then she was twisting on her sharp heels and glaring up at her giant nephew. “Youwhat?”

An irritated muscle worked its way through Jackson’s jaw, his eyes flicking up to the ceiling like it could grant him the patience he needed to deal with my bullshit. “I didn’t— It should have gone without saying that you were to leaveaftergetting dressed, but you ran out before I could correct myself.”

“Oh please,” I scoffed, “if you’re gonna do shitty things, at least have the balls to own up to them.”

“Idid the shitty thing?” he snarled incredulously as he stalked forward. “Miss Paquin, might I remind you that you trespassed onto my property under false pretenses, disguised as a matchmade romantic interest, and proceeded to record our meeting without my knowledge or consent. Please explain howI’mthe bad guy for kicking you out of my home as a consequence.”

“All right, fine,” I said. “I’m sorry for that part. I acknowledge that it was wrong. But I only did it because you’ve spent the last eight months refusing to meet with us. You haven’t taken any of our tests or answered any of our calls or filled out any of our questionnaires yourself. One of your interns did the lifestyle assessment on your behalf, for heaven’s sake. How does that make any sense when we’re literally trying to find you a life partner?”

“My lack of participation in your inane methods does not excuse several illegal acts that?—”

“You haven’t participated in any of their assessments yourself?” Both of Minerva’s eyebrows were curved now.

Jackson’s lips pressed into a line so tight, it drained them of life. “Not… directly, no,” he managed through gritted teeth. “There was no need. They’ve been provided with more than enough data to find me a suitable match.”

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