Page 2 of Miss Matched

Martin nods, but his lips pull between his teeth like he isn’t sure if I just made a jab at him or not.

“Good. Enjoy your evening, then,” I say with a cool smile, shooing him away.

“God, I love it when you get feisty,” Sam says. He nudges my shoulder, and we watch Martin make his way back to the group, where Chad is commanding the attention of all the women with a wicked grin on his face.

Whether my clients take it seriously or not, and whether I agree with how they treat their relationships or not, I am still the best in the business. So I’ll find Martin and Chad wives, trophy or otherwise.

Once I have the men wrangled, the evening starts to smooth out. They split off into two groups, Martin with four of the ladies and Chad with six. They’re each quietly downing drink number two, which is the last one I’ll let them have. This isn’t the place to get sloppy. I need them relaxed, not drunk.

Sam, Racine, and I settle into a table in a back corner of the room. We’re far enough away that the men and women feel a sense of privacy, but we’re close enough to keep an eye out for wandering hands.

“Bet time. How long until we find women willing to put up with these two long enough to make it down the aisle?” Sam says, finishing his martini in a final swig.

“Eighteen months,” Racine guesses with a wicked grin.

“Three months for Martin. Seven for Chad,” I decide.

Racine pulls her wild red curls off her face and laughs. “That’s wildly optimistic.”

“Or I’m just that good,” I counter.

Sam points at me. “Definitely that one.”

“Besides, we’ve dealt with worse. Remember Tom Matthews?”

Sam slaps a hand on the table and starts laughing. “Teabag Tom!” He barely gets the words out between chuckles. “I’d almost forgotten about that guy. Can’t believe your friend Luce hasn’t seen him in divorce court yet.”

I smile, tapping my nails on the table. “I may or may not have heard a little rumor that his wifey doesn’t mind his extracurricular activities. She might even be known to participate from time to time.”

Racine’s eyes go wide, and Sam nudges her elbow with his. “Come on, Racy, it’s not all that surprising. I’ve known plenty of women who love licking a guy’s—”

She cuts him off. “Oh. My. God. Sam.” The blush on her neckline draws out her freckles.

“Leave her alone.” I shake my head at Sam. “Besides, his sexual preferences weren’t really the issue. His affinity for hookers and cocaine, on the other hand…”

“At least the guy knew how to throw a party,” Sam says.

I nod and hold up my water glass to clink it with his.

We might deal with the crème de la douche in this business, but the weddings make up for it: ultra-lavish and ridiculously expensive, with food that tastes like heaven. It’s a perk of being in the business of playing cupid for rich pricks.

“Speaking of client weddings.” I narrow my eyes at Sam. “How is what’s-her-name?” I tap a finger on my chin, pretending to think, even though we both know who I’m talking about. At the Carrington wedding last week, Sam left with one of the very tall, very handsy, very blonde bridesmaids.

“Carrie…or Cameron. Something with a C,” Sam answers. “I’m sure she’s fine. Although maybe limping a little when she left the next morning.” The corner of his mouth lifts.

“You’re a dick,” I say, shaking my head and laughing while Racine stays quiet. It doesn’t take being a matchmaker to see she is in love with Sam. But she isn’t my client, and I’m not about to screw up my business by letting Sam break her heart.

“What about you, Kenz?” he asks, oblivious to Racine’s reaction.

I used to hate when he called me Kenz, but after this many years, I’ve learned that nicknames aren’t an insult coming from Sam. It’s when he calls you by your given name that you should be worried.

“Nothing to report.” I shrug. “I don’t need a man. I’ve already found the love of my life.” I wave my arms outward.

“Your company doesn’t count,” Racine says flatly.

“And why not? Men do it all the time,” I argue. “A company gives you back exactly what you put in. It supports you if you support it. And it doesn’t disappoint.”

It also doesn’t just pick up and leave one day without looking back. But that part I keep to myself.

---