Page 4 of Perfect (mis)Match

“Second, have the security footage from my parking spot sent to me, starting at eight forty-five this morning and ending…” I glanced at my phone. “Ending now.”

She raised an eyebrow as she took notes on her iPad.

“And have maintenance look into what happened to my reserved parking sign. It’s missing.”

I turned to head into the meeting and realized Mr. Abrupt had done it yet again.

“Thank you, Linda. I appreciate it.”

Her blank expression transformed into an amused smile. “You’re welcome, Vincent!”

I walked into the conference room, and all conversation stopped.

“Good morning, team. I hope you have good news for me,” I said as I took my seat at the head of the table.

Dwayne Washington, our lead chemist, sputtered as everyone turned to look at him.

“We have momentum,” he offered. “The team and I put together a video of our latest distillation efforts, and I think you’ll be intrigued.”

“Folks, I want to besuccessful, not intrigued. The clock is ticking here.”

“We understand that.” Dwayne cleared his throat. “Let me just hit play, and I think you’ll see what I mean.” He fiddled with the iPad that controlled the white board. “Whoops, connection error,” he laughed nervously. “Gimme a few seconds here. Rachel, can you help troubleshoot?”

They mumbled to one another as they tried to figure out what was wrong, which gave me time to check the email that had just come in from Linda.

The security footage. Proof that I absolutely was not to blame. I pushed play and squinted at the screen.

There was my gorgeous Bugatti, idling just beyond my spot so I could back into it. The blonde bomber’s battered old car slid into view and started easing into the spot. My reverse lights flicked on after she was already well on her way.

Had she looked over at me? Had I looked back? It was impossible to say who was responsible for the collision, but the footage looked damning enough for me to admit maybe I’d blamed her too quickly.

Not that I’d ever tell her that.

I placed a quick call to Doug Fogel, my head of security.

“You still dealing with the car stuff?” I asked.

“Yes sir.”

“Okay, I don’t care how obnoxious she is, just pay for everything,” I said, knowing he’d understand exactly what I meant. “Shut-up-and-go-away money. I don’t want to have to deal with that woman again.”

“On it,” he answered quickly.

“One more thing,” I said as the idea took root. “I want her to admit she was in the wrong.”

“Uh…excuse me?”

“Find a way to get her to admit she made a mistake.Shecrashed intome. Imply that it’s a stipulation for the payout. It’s not, of course, but I want her to say the words.”

I didn’t elaborate because I didn’t have to. My word was law.

“Okay, Mr. Forde,” Doug said haltingly. “You got it.”

I reminded myself to be courteous. “Thank you.”

I hung up, satisfied that of all the things in my life I couldn’t control, at least I’d never have to deal with Manhattan’s worst driver ever again.

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