Page 21 of The Match Faker

That last point was important. I knew what it was like to waste years with someone, only to find you want different things. If one person wanted marriage and kids and the other didn’t, how much you had in common on paper meant nothing. The chances of it going the distance were slim. Shame I hadn’t realised this sooner in my own relationship.

‘And then?’

‘Once I find a match, I recommend you meet as soon as possible to do a chemistry check. You can have lots in common, but the only way to know if there’s a connection is to see each other—in person.’

‘Okay. If you send me a link to the form and your fees, I’ll take a look.’

‘Great!’ I took down her details. ‘Thanks for calling, and give my regards to Carly and Horace.’

After we said our goodbyes, I whizzed an email straight off to her and crossed my fingers.

‘Recommendation?’ Trudy asked.

‘Yep!’ Most of my clients came from word of mouth. That had kept me going for this long. But it wasn’t enough.

I reached for the envelope I was about to open before Joss called. As I scanned the letter, I gasped. ‘Shit!’

‘What’s up?’ Trudy frowned.

‘My landlord’s increasing the rent for my flat by three hundred pounds a month! Where the hell am I supposed to get that kind of money from?’

‘So sorry, M.’

‘And the council tax and business rates are going up soon. With the office rent increase too, it’s just all too much!’ I buried my head in my hands.

An email notification sounded. I reluctantly looked up at my computer, then clicked into my inbox.

It was a newsletter from the Happily Ever After Awards organisers. There was a list of all the different categories. They all related to love, romance and having a happy relationship including Wedding Planner of the Year, Sex Therapist of the Year, Steamy Romance Author of the Year and even Sex Toy of the Year.

I’d devoured every single book from last year’s winning author, and I may have ordered the Waterfall Turbo 3000 vibrator that won Sex Toy of the Year too. And I wasn’t the only one. These awards were so influential.

My gaze flicked to the Matchmaker of the Year category and prize package that was highlighted in bold.

Winning that cash and all that publicity could literally change my life.

Beneath it was a photo of one of my competitors, Gillian Madely, flashing her stupid smile and saying how confident she was about winning the Matchmaker of the Year award again.

‘Aaaarghhh!’ I screamed.

‘Whoa! If things are really that bad, I can try and help?’

‘Thanks, but it’s not just that crazy bill. I really need to make a go of this business, Trude. I’m good at what I do.’

‘Well, you’ve entered, so you’re already in with a chance. Now it’s up to you to do the rest…’

‘Yeah. I just…’ I sighed. I knew what I had to do.

As much as I disagreed with the way they seemed to discriminate against single candidates (obviously they’d never admit it, because it’d land them in hot water, but everyone knew it was an unspoken rule), the bottom line was that to increase my chances of getting any further, I needed a boyfriend. And with the interviews starting next week, I needed one fast.

I had to be realistic. Given my luck with men in the past year and a half, the chances of me finding one within the next week were non-existent.

It wasn’t ethical for me to date my own clients, so I had to rely on fate or new recommendations from friends. Since I’d broken up with Boris, I’d dated two men.

The first was Silas. When we had sex on the third date, it was a disaster: zero chemistry or coordination. Somehow we just couldn’t get the rhythm right and it was super awkward.

Me being nervous couldn’t have helped. I’d dated Boris since I was seventeen and he was the only guy I’d ever slept with. So having sex with someone else was a big deal, but I knew I needed to get back on the horse.

Knowing Boris had cheated probably affected me too. I was plagued with self-doubt about whether I was good enough in bed and if that was the reason he’d strayed. I wasn’t surprised when Silas didn’t call again.

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