Page 2 of Romance Reset
Amelia gasped and turned, realizing Marsali Jones was indeed joining them. But what Izzy hadn’t considered was whether or not their off-set connection would, well, get back to the set. If Amelia’s colleagues found out about this, she would never live it down. “Okay, then. Strangulation it is,” Amelia muttered to Izzy.
“Ladies, how are we this evening?” Marsali asked, moving with graceful intent toward their table.
Marsali looked as put together as always, dressed as she was in a bright sleeveless top and white skinny jeans. The coral color of her blouse brought out Marsali’s tan and the many freckles that looked so charming.
“Great now that you’re here,” Izzy said, motioning to Amelia to scoot over to make room.
“Amelia, it’s so good to see you again,” Marsali said, tone sweet.
“You, too,” Amelia managed to mutter, knowing Izzy wanted Marsali to sit beside her on the booth seat in order to block her only hope of escaping the train wreck Izzy had put into motion.
“Please, have a seat,” Izzy added, raising one of her perfectly groomed eyebrows in Amelia’s direction.
Amelia glared at Izzy but scooched over so that Marsali could lower herself onto the padded seat and settle in.
“Amelia, don’t look so nervous. I won’t bite,” Marsali said.
Amelia pasted a weak smile to her lips and took in the other woman’s fresh-faced appearance. Marsali Jones was not what one might expect in a professional matchmaker. Amelia guessed Marsali to be in her late twenties, but with minimal makeup and freckles galore, Marsali wound up looking not much older than a teenager. Combined with her long, curly hair, she looked way too young to be weaving people’s futures together in the lifetime kind of way. How was this ever going to work? “Sorry. My dear friend Izzy kind of sprang this on me.”
“No worries. Before I take you on as a client, I have to feel comfortable with your willingness to be matched. So if you’re truly not willing and you don’t want to give this a try, we’ll just move on and have some nice girl talk. But before you say no,” Marsali said when Amelia opened her mouth, “I hope you’ll give me a chance, because I’m pretty darn good at what I do. Are you willing to share your story? Is there a particular reason you’re pursuing—”
“Sperm banks,” Izzy interjected. “Sperm that could come fromanyone.”
Once again, the young waitress returned at the most inopportune time and caught the last of Izzy’s statement. Amelia watched as the girl’s eyes widened just a tad before she smoothed her features and attempted a modicum of diplomacy, something Amelia wished Izzy could learn. Fast.
“Um, can I get you a drink?” the waitress asked Marsali.
“Iced tea, half cut, please,” Marsali said, smiling at the young woman. “Thank you.”
“Coming right up. I’ll get y’all’s order when I get back.”
Amelia watched as the girl slid a weirded-out glance in her direction before she walked away. Amelia shot Izzy what she hoped was a silencing look. “Seriously? Will you please stop airing my business to the entire restaurant?”
“Sorry,” Izzy mumbled. “But it’s the truth.”
“You don’t have to shout it to the world,” Amelia said with a groan.
“If you’re that uncomfortable talking about it, how on earth do you think you’re going to be able todo it, Meli? Where would you say the kid is from? Mars?”
“Okay, okay, let’s… take a breath,” Marsali said, calmly inserting herself in the conversation. “Amelia, tell me about you. Let’s start there, shall we? I know the answers to some of these questions already, but it helps to ask them again to break the ice and get things rolling. Let’s begin with, have you ever been married?”
Forced to endure the next hour or so of torture unless she was going to jump up atop the table and make a run for the door, Amelia resigned herself to the conversation about to take place. “No. I haven’t. I… I was asked once but we were too young.”
“And in response she sold everything she had, emptied her bank account, and left for Europe the very next day,” Izzy added.
“So marriage scared you?” Marsali asked, her gaze searching.
Didn’t marriage scare everyone? “I was eighteen and he was my first real boyfriend. And since then, I’ve been living my life,” Amelia said to them. She hesitated to own her truth. Didn’t want to face it because she’d never again experienced a love like that one and in thetwenty-three yearsof dating since, she’d felt like a failure because of it. Like she’d given up her one and only chance and had been punished because of it.
“I see. That is young,” Marsali said. “Have you come close to marriage since then?”
“No. Well, sort of, but… I found a ring and thought he was close to asking me but then discovered him sleeping with my neighbor so…”
“I see,” Marsali murmured as she took notes. “Would you say you’re wary because of your experiences? Afraid of repeating them?”
“Definitely. She dates sporadically,” Izzy offered. “And the moment they get serious, she bolts.”
“I don’t bolt, I simply refuse to settle,” Amelia clarified. “If I feel someone is getting serious when I’m just not that interested, I end things before it becomes more complicated. There’s a difference. Marriage shouldn’t be about settling. Not if you want it to last.”
