Page 12 of The One That I Want

‘ForNouveau?’ I ask.

‘ForNouveau Life,’ she replies, her eyebrows raising in excitement.

It takes me a moment to find my voice. When I do, all I manage is, ‘Oh,’ which I say with a bobbing head and that ridiculous clown smile on my face.

I don’t want to be rude to either of them – highly unprofessional – but I am very confused.

‘So,’ I say, turning towards Poppy, ‘what would you write about? We cover a little bit of fashion, but that’s not our key focal point.’

Poppy and Anjali glance at each other.

‘I’m not actually a fashion journalist,’ she replies – which isnotactually a reply. ‘I’m a matchmaker.’

There’s every chance I now resemble a goldfish – all bug eyes and gaping mouth.

‘You’re what?’ I say, abandoning any hope of maintaining a professional façade.

‘A matchmaker,’ says Anjali, as though that explains everything. It doesn’t. ‘We thought we’d bring Poppy on as an advice columnist – you know, readers send in problems with their love life and Poppy helps solve them. Before she worked as a matchmaker, Poppy was a psychologist – so, you see, it’s a match made in heaven. So to speak.’

Anjali’s terrible pun aside, I don’thatethe idea.

‘Right, I can see the potential there,’ I say noncommittally. ‘And you’re really a professional matchmaker?’

‘Yes, I work at the Ever After Agency in Richmond. The article I wrote with Bex – that was for a case. I was undercover.’

Realisation dawns and my expression morphs into one of awe. ‘Oh my god,youmatched Elle Bliss and Lorenzo.’

‘I did,’ she says, beaming.

I press a palm to my chest. ‘I’m totally starstruck. Iadorethose two. They are the mostadorablecelebrity couple. Did you know that I’m the one who coined their couple name?’

‘Ellorenzo? Really, that was you?’

‘That was me,’ I say proudly.

Hmm. Moments ago, I was ready to execute a mutiny and overrule Anjali’s decision – especially since it should have been mine to make – but now…now, I can envision how Poppy might fit into the team –andhow well an advice column will play with our readers.

‘So, just to be clear, you’d still be matchmaking?’ I ask.

‘Yep, I’d keep my job at the agency, then write for you part-time.’

‘We were thinking once a month to start, so part of the regular publication cycle,’ says Anjali, ‘with the possibility of going weekly if Poppy builds up a significant following.’ This is something else that should have been my decision – the machinations – but I’m starting to get excited about this column, so I don’t say anything.

‘There’s a tiny catch, though,’ Poppy says. With a head tilt, I invite her to expound. ‘Outside of the two of you, no one can know I work for Ever After. Our agency is… well… clandestine. We don’t advertise and we don’t promote our services. We take on cases strictly by referral, so when I’m writing for you, I’ll need a nom de plume.’

‘But you wrote for us before as “P Dean”.’

‘I did – which was risky, but I was also writing about fashion. This will be a little closer to home, so…’

‘Right, that does make sense,’ I reply with a nod. ‘You know, when you first started telling me about this, I wasn’t convinced?—’

‘You don’t say,’ Anjali teases.

‘An open book, apparently,’ I tell Poppy, pointing to my face with both index fingers. She’s gracious enough to wave me off. ‘Anyway, so how about you come in next week?’

‘Perfect.’

‘In the meantime, I’ll brief the team and get to work.’ I stand, figuring the meeting is over, but Poppy and Anjali exchange another look and if I’m not mistaken, this one is slightly panicked.

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