Page 3 of Matchmaking the Rival

I’d had various positions in our marketing department, and now I’d reached my dream of becoming the vice president of marketing at thirty-one. I felt completely blessed with my career path. I was doing a job I loved in an industry I adored, and now I had a kick-ass office all to myself. That was probably the best part of being VP—I didn’t have to share my space.

“I’ll let you get started,” Sonya said as if reading my thoughts.

“Thank you. I’m going to review the pressing to-dos this morning and then jump right on them.”

“I like your energy, Meredith.” Sonya winked before she left the room.

I went to the window, putting my hands on my hips as I looked down at Water Street one more time.Oh yeah, I have a very good feeling about this.

As I moved to sit at my desk, my phone beeped with a message from Mom.

Mom: Darling, at what time should we expect you?

I grinned. My parents insisted on taking me out to celebrate my new job. They were cute. Little did they know,Iwas going to spoilthem. They couldn’t afford to spend money on me right now.

Meredith: I think around six.

I was also going to surprise them with a basket full of the very best coffee flavors we had. I planned to buy some special treats for them, too, although I was certain Mom would lecture me about that.

Whenever I was near sweets, Mom pointed out that sugar wasn't good if I was trying to lose weight, which I wasn't. I’d been a bit heavier my whole life, and now at thirty-one, I was thoroughly embracing it. I was healthy. My waist had never been smaller than thirty-four inches. So what? I wasn't ashamed of my curves. I certainly didn't dress to cover them up or hide them. Currently, I was wearing a sweaterdress that molded to all my curves. I was proud of them. I’d learned from an early age that when you were different from the others, you either had to embrace it or be completely unhappy.

I was the first one in my class to get boobs and cellulite. I remembered a well-meaning teacher telling me, “Big girls don’t get very far in life. And they definitely don’t get the guy of their dreams.” I guess it was her way of motivating me to lose weight. I'd gotten used to my boobs pretty fast. As for the cellulite, that was still a bit of a sore point. Most of the time I accepted it, except when summer was right around the corner. Then I fell prey to the marketing techniques of beauty companies and bought a lot of the creams and massage machines they advertised. But now we were in pumpkin season, so I had six months before I'd be bombarded by ads targeted at making me feel uncomfortable.

Opening my bag, I took out my violet-scented candle and lit it, taking a deep breath before opening my computer.

Since I’d worked for my predecessor, Cammie, right until she left, I was up-to-date with everything. She’d been a great VP of marketing, but now she was pregnant and said she wanted to stay at home for a couple of years with her baby. I was honored that she and Sonya chose me for the job, as there had been a lot of candidates for this position.

Cammie told me she would be available for any questions I had in the beginning, but I was determined not to bother her too often. She should relax this last month of pregnancy, not stress out about any pending work.

I had a single folder on my desktop, and inside it were two files. One was titled "To-dos," and the other one was "Competition." I opened the one with to-dos first. I glanced over the list, sorting the tasks by priority. The most pressing was the booth at The Fair-Trade Choice competition. Cammie had wanted to stop by herself to make sure everything was ready, but in her own words, she could barely move around her home. I told her I’d take pictures and send them to her so she didn’t feel left out.

I wanted to check out the other booths, too, and see what our competitors were up to before meeting them at the black-tie event at the end of the week. The competition’s committee had published the list of all the participants over the weekend, but I hadn't had time to check. Deciding I'd better look at it now, I opened the browser, scrolling slowly as I read the names. My heart somersaulted when I reached The Boston Coffee Expert.

Oh my God, could it be?

I opened another browser, googling Cade Whitley. I clicked the first result. He was still the CEO of The Boston Coffee Expert.

I sank lower in my chair, my eyes glued to the screen. I hadn't seen Cade in years—ever since he abruptly changed high schools without telling me about it. As an eighteen-year-old with a secret crush on him, it had been heartbreaking. He’d turned into a fine man. The photo was probably retouched, but I remembered the dark brown hair and those vivid blue eyes, always sparkling with mischief as if he were up to no good. To be fair, hehadbeen up to no good during school.

Would I see him? I couldn't imagine that the CEO would get directly involved in the competition. He’d probably have his marketing team manage it all for him. Sonya was hands-on, but we were a smaller company, whereas The Boston Coffee Expert was a giant. Despite working in the same industry for years, our paths had never crossed. And I was sure they wouldn’t now either.

Back to work, Meredith. You’ve got lots to do. First, check the booth and make sure we kick ass. Then, spoil your family.

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