Page 27 of Failure to Match

“The coaching will be personalized to fit your specific needs,” I continued, “covering all your major weaknesses, as determined by my evaluations.” Which, in Jackson’s case, was pretty much everything other than his physical presentation and attire. “However, if there are any specific areas you’d like for us to put additional focus on, please let me know.”

Jackson’s eyes flicked down to his wristwatch, his foot tapping once. Sadly for him, we still had seventeen allotted minutes left for our meeting and I didn’t plan on ending it even a second early.

After all, I knew how much Mr. Sinclairlovedpunctuality. He always arrived on his dates exactly on time and ended them the nanosecond the hour was up. And it had absolutely nothing to do with the fact that Charmed had a sixty-minute first-impression requirement, which, again, had been put in place to ensure that our carefully selected pairings actually gave each other a fair shot.

“The focus for weeks three and four will depend on how the first two go. I’ll still be gathering data, though likely at a reduced scale at this stage, especially since I won’t be shadowing you at work anymore. If your coaching has gone well, we can move on to discreetly monitored dates. This time around, however, your partners will be selected based on my gathered data in addition to what we discuss during our sit-down interviews, a schedule for which has already been sent to your team. Our interviews will be held outside of regular office hours so they don’t overlap with any other meetings you may have, and youwillbe expected to attend them all yourself. I don’t accept subs.”

That was the gist of it. I had all the main points covered. Good thing I had absolutely no shortage of relevant topics to talk at him about until the hour was over and he cut me off.

So that was exactly what I did—wasted his time like he’d wasted so much of mine.

I talked and talked until the skin under his eye twitched, and I couldseehim silently counting down the seconds until three, two—he shot to his feet a half-second before the big hand hit twelve and walked out of the room while I was smack in the middle of my sentence.

I rolled my lips, suppressing a smile as I picked up my phone again.

Abysmal.

Manners. Attitude. Body language.

All of it.

All of him.

Abysmal.

“I’m sorry, you’re where right now? Doingwhat?”

I wiggled deeper into the stack of pillows propped up against the bedframe and almost purred. It was like being hugged by a puffy cloud.

“Don’t you dare fall asleep on me right now, Jamie,” Ria snapped, glaring at me through the painfully bright screen of my phone. It was incredibly sunny where she was—some island off the coast of… a country, either in Europe or Africa. I honestly couldn’t keep track anymore, and not just because I was perpetually exhausted. All I knew was that they had internet access for the first time in almost two weeks.

“Sorry.” My eyes were watering with the effort it took to stifle my yawn. “This bed is insanely comfortable, and I didn’t sleep very well last night. Nerves and stuff.”

I’d also stayed up way too late, going over my highlighted notes from my two weeks of training with Vivian. The material hadn’t been difficult, there’d just been a lot of it.

“You can sleep after you tell me what happened,” Ria insisted. “Because the last time you and I talked, you were burnt the fuck out and on the brink of a legit emotional breakdown over this man’s bullshit. Yes or no?”

“Correct,” I confirmed. She’d threatened to fly back to Toronto in the middle of that conversation. It’d taken me almost an hour to convince her that canceling the rest of her honeymoon was a massive overreaction and completely unnecessary. Even though, selfishly, I missed her enough to almost want to allow it.Almost.

But I couldn’t do that to her orher husband. Poor Adrien had been understanding enough as it was. The day Ria moved out, we’d cried so much that he’d felt the need to triple-check and make sure it was actually what she wanted. Then he’d offered me a permanent room in his penthouse, where I could leave all my stuff and stay over whenever I felt like it.

That was what had finally gotten us to calm the hell down. And you could justseethe relief in his body language when her tears had slowed. He was so painfully in love with her that sometimes watching them interact was like looking directly at the sun.

They reminded me of my parents.

And that was all I’d ever wanted, you know? Ever since I was a little kid. That pure, blinding happiness that comes with finding your person. If I really thought about it, that was probably why I got into matchmaking in the first place. I fuckinglovedlove, and what could be more fulfilling than helping… people… find…

“…Jamie!”

“Mmm?”

“You’re dozing off!”

I forced my eyelids back open. It was not easy.

“Sorry. What were you saying?”

“Jackson Sinclair. The Immersive. Explain.”

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