Page 42 of Miss Matched

Kennedy

Agoodcupidknows when to trust her gut, and also when she’s making a very big mess.

Signs all point to the latter: taking on Zac as a client when every pore in my body screamed against it. Almost kissing him at the club. Worst of all, believing, against better judgment, that he’s different than what the blogs print about him.

Who am I to think I’m anything more than a game he’s having fun playing? The matchmaker he’s not allowed to touch. No doubt the first woman in years who’s turned him down. Assuming the attraction is anything more than a case of wanting what he can’t have would be ignorant.

The red flags are everywhere.

Red Flag 1: The pair of blondes at his table when he’s supposed to be looking for his wife.

Red Flag 2:Chad’s buddy-buddy greeting, which gave the distinct impression they’re closer than Zac let on.

Red Flag 3:The sexy-as-hell grin he wears like a weapon.

How many stories and gorgeous women is it going to take for me to see what’s staring me in the face?A man too hot for his own damn good.

Or mine.

My phone rings, and I might as well have summoned him.

“Hey, Zac,” I say, spinning in my chair and kicking my heels onto the corner of my desk.

“Hey, Cupid.”

That pet name gets me every time—add the grin I know he’s wearing by the tone of his voice, and someone better call an ambulance, because my heart’s not coming out of this in one piece.

“The one and only,” I say. “What can I help you with?”

“You didn’t send your usual post-date text, so I’m just reporting in.”

“Sorry, must have gotten sidetracked.”

I hadn’t. But I also wasn’t ready for another rundown of one of his dates. Even if I’m the one setting him up, it stings to hear about them.

“Understood,” he says in an oddly cagey tone.

“So, Jasmine. Another dud?” I say. “I promise this is all part of the process. It takes a minute to find a good fit, and then next thing you know, bam! One of them works out.”

There’s a long pause on the other end of the line.

“Zac?”

“No, um…actually, I was calling to say it went well. I think I’d like to see her again.”

His words feel like an arm reaching out through the phone and punching me in the gut. The potential of this moment to be my greatest professional accomplishment has been clouded by my worst fears.

“Oh,” I breathe.

“Yes, so I’m not sure how that works.” He’s careful with his words, like he senses I’m reacting in a way I have no right to. “If I call her or you prefer to.”

“I’ll do it,” I cut in.

This is everything I’ve worked for. Finding a woman who can hold his attention longer than five seconds. I just didn’t anticipate the ache in my chest when it finally happened.

“Thanks. So…” Zac hangs on the line, and I realize I’m spacing out.

“Sorry, yes, I’ll call her and set something up. You’ll have a text with the date and time by the end of the day. This is great news, and Jasmine is great. It’s all great. I’m very happy for you.” I’m rambling. “But I’ve gotta run—meeting. Talk soon.”

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