Page 94 of Miss Matched

Kennedy

“He’stotallyfinger-fuckingher right now,” Sam says, leaning in and reading my mind. Our eyes are locked on a couple in a booth across the room: dark corner, close bodies, and I think her eyes just rolled back in her head.

I lift my champagne glass. “Cheers to matchmaking?” I’m not sure I want the credit for whatever is happening over there, but other than the few turbo libidos on deck, the first Hearts Inc.’s Singles Ball is a success.

“This place is incredible,” Racine says, sliding up beside us.

She’s not wrong. When Zac said Ursula owed him a favor, I didn’t expect this. The largest ballroom at the Azul, dripping with an assortment of white flowers and diamonds. It’s gorgeous, over the top, extravagant. And it made my chest ache the moment I saw it.

“Cheer up, girl.” Racine nudges me, and I realize I’m frowning.

Tonight should be a celebration of my business. It’s finally going in the direction I’ve been working toward. But in a room full of people, I still feel alone.

Zac knows the ball is tonight—not that he has any reason to be here. But it doesn’t stop me from imagining his face on other people’s heads or scanning the crowd for him. Part of me wishes I could take back the past couple of months, before he made me believe there was more out there. Back when I was just alone and not lonely. Before this crevice opened in my chest and refused to close.

But the thought of erasing him is worse. Before Zac, I lived in a tomb of my own making, locked away so no one could hurt me. He brought light to a place I had carefully hidden, and I couldn’t go back if I tried.

“You pulled this off like a fucking boss.” Luce’s voice comes up behind me.

I spin and see Luce and Monica linking arms with grins on their faces. Luce is in a white chiffon strapless dress that gives off serious Marilyn Monroe vibes. And Monica is a vision in a sheer beige jumper that sparkles down her body.

“You guys came!” I cheer, wrapping my arms around their shoulders. “And those outfits.” I lean back and look them up and down with a nod of approval.

Luce does a playful curtsy and smiles. “Not looking so bad yourself, Jessica Rabbit.”

I laugh, but I guess she’s kinda right. I chose a long red dress with a heart-shaped neckline that shows off a hint of cleavage. My back is fully exposed apart from a beaded strip that runs from neck to ass.

It’s probably cliché, being a matchmaker and wearing red as often as I do. But I look damn hot in it, and that’s what I need right now. To feel good.

“Hopefully your boy toy doesn’t mind you attending a singles night tonight?” I say to Monica.

Luce purses her lips and looks over at Monica, who frowns.

“I caught Steven in bed with his assistant.” Monica’s shoulders sag. “I pick the worst men.”

Luce lifts an agreeing eyebrow but keeps her mouth shut. For a total romantic, Monica has a bit of a bad boy obsession.

“That’s it,” Monica says, waving her hands out in front of her. “I’m done with men. I’m heading to a week-long writer’s retreat tomorrow anyway. Adios to Seattle and all my lame exes. The only guys I’ll be banging from now on will be between the pages in my books.”

“That sounds healthy,” I tell her.

Monica shrugs.

“While I agree with your dedication to ditching relationships, swearing off men is insanity,” Luce says with a wink. “No, you need the opposite. Lots of them, often. As a matter of fact, Kennedy is auctioning some off tonight. I’ll get my purse.”

“I swear, if you get married before me, I will officially lose hope,” Monica says.

“No worries, Mon, this is not a woman who gets tied down.” Luce narrows her eyes and starts scanning the room. “At least not by marriage.”

Monica’s mouth falls open, and I laugh. The two of them continue their banter as they make their way to the bar.

But inside, I secretly worry that someday both of them will fall in love, have families, move on. And I’ll be the one still here playing matchmaker for everyone else.

Luce and Monica share a table with me while we watch Sam and Racine have fun on stage hosting the singles auction. Champagne flows well into the night, elevating the energy of the people being auctioned. One guy goes as far as to strip off his dress shirt to drive bids up another few thousand dollars. I have to hold Luce to her seat to prevent her from going home with him and his eight-pack.

After the final bid closes for the evening, Sam takes back the center of the stage.

“Ladies and gentlemen—if we can even call you that by this point in the night.” The room laughs. “We have one more very special lady to bring up on stage. And I expect extra zeros on those checks for this one.”

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