Page 5 of Failure to Match

“I can’t believeI let you two talk me into this.”

I was sweating, my neck, knees, and head were itchy, and there was a solid chance I was going to throw up before I reached the table.

“Relax,” Mitch said through the earpiece. “It’s going to be fine. Just stick to the plan.”

“I really don’t have a good feeling about this, you guys.” I swallowed, my eyes darting around the rooftop patio of the high-rise apartment building.

It was beautifully decorated; I’d give him that. The curved mosaic pool was lined with ornate lanterns, pink roses spilled out of large garden urns everywhere you turned, and a candle-lit table was set up right in the middle of it all.Combine that with the clear night sky and an unbelievable view of the city skyline, and the whole thing was suffocatingly romantic.

“Terrible or not, it’s the only idea we have,” Alice pointed out. “And you’re going to do great. You know your profile inside out, you know what info we need and what questions to ask to get it, and we’ll be with you every step of the way. Just stick to the plan like Mitch said and don’t overthink it.”

None of that made me feel better. And not just because I was too busy trying not to trip over the too-long skirt of my dress (which was basically a gown) to pay actual attention to what she was saying. These heels were stupidly high, and don’t get me started on how hot and itchy the wig?—

“Incoming.”

I froze dead in my tracks, my heart jumping up to my throat as I scanned my surroundings.

He was early.

Why was he so early?

He wasneverearly from what we’d been told by his matches.He always arrived at 8 p.m. on the dot and ended the date at 9 p.m. on the dot.

Everything else they’d said checked out—a member of his team had greeted me downstairs, accompanied me up here while making polite conversation, and informed me that Mr. Sinclair would be joining me shortly before excusing themselves.

Why the hell was he early tonight? Did he know something was off? Had we somehow managed to fuck this up already?

“I don’t see anyone,” I whispered after my third full spin.

“Shit. Sorry. It was just your reflection in the pool,” Mitch said. “I’m in a hypervigilant state or whatever, and your black dress looked kind of like a suit—” He cut off with a pained hiss right before the audio went dead.

“Hello?” Panic clawed at my chest when no one answered. “Alice? Mitch?”

“Sorry about that.Mitch has lost mic privileges for the time being. It’s 7:57 so you still have three minutes until he arrives, you’re good.”

“Okay. Thanks.”

“You should sit down though. Height thing aside, it might look a little weird if you’re just standing by the pool and glancing around like someone’s after you.”

I frowned. “How do you know I’m glancing around?”

“Your boob keeps moving.”

Right. The camera was sewn into my dress, blending in seamlessly with all the hand-sewn beads. Between the embellishments and multiple layers of fabric, this thing weighed almost as much as I did.It was also a rental and cost more than my car.

But, you know, I had to look the part to play it. None of Jackson’s matches were showing up to these dates with a fifty-dollar off-the-rack dress.

I took a deep breath, my newly manicured nails digging into my clutch as I lowered into a seat at the table.

“Less than a minute, Jamie,” Alice said softly. “You should stop responding to us now, just in case. And we’ll keep the talking on our end to a minimum so you can focus.”

I nodded even though they couldn’t see me.

“Fifteen seconds.”

I smoothed out my skirt, bracing myself as my pulse kicked again. My instincts were screaming, telling me to run.

“Three.”

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