Page 8 of Twist of Date

She looks over my shoulder, toward the door, and I follow her gaze, half expecting a woman to be standing there. Shit if Layla’s face doesn’t pop into my head for a millisecond.

“Well, look at that, she didn’t come walking through the door. Looks as if my services are, in fact, needed,” she quips. She opens a book on her desk and grabs a pencil. Pulling my eyes away from the empty door, I see it’s a planner of sorts.

I clear my throat. “I’m not sure I’m matchmaking material,” I add uncomfortably.

She looks up at me. “Poppycock. You absolutely are.” The look of disgust that crosses her face makes me what to laugh. She’s over-the-top for sure. No wonder she and my grandma are such good friends.

“All right. You’re the expert here,” I say slowly.

She sets her shoulders and nods. “Yes. Very well then. I’ll take you on, free of charge, of course, as a gift to Dorthy. That Alaskan cruise she treated me to last year was over-the-top and she knew damn well I was going to struggle to out-gift her,” she grumbles and I bite the inside of my cheek to keep from laughing.

“Sounds like Dorthy all right. And I appreciate it, but as the owner of this empire, surely you don’t have time to take me on as a client, let alone pro bono.”

Even the snort out of her nose is elegant. “Oh no, darling, I don’t own this joint. Layla does. She and Cassie actually. She is head matchmaker and Cassie runs the wedding planning side of the business. I just work here because my mind is still too sharp to sit at home and twiddle my thumbs.”

Stunned at the realization that Layla has clearly done well for herself, I also find myself strangely proud of her. I don’t dwell on that. It’s probably odd to feel this way about a woman I haven’t seen or heard from in a decade.

“I’m actually very picky about my clients, so you can rest assured that you are a top priority for me and you won’t be lost in the shuffle.”

“All right.”

“Now, let’s get you booked for your intake interview, shall we? I’d like to get that set up soon. I don’t want to drag this out. I will find your love by Christmas. I can promise you that.”

Well, shit.I wasn’t expecting to be settled down that soon, but what the hell, this could be something I look back on and say “remember the time my grandmother hired a matchmaker for me?”

“Oh, don’t be alarmed, dear, I can make those kinds of guarantees. I have a one-hundred-percent match record and I’ve been doing this for nearly seventy years,” she boasts, looking back down at her calendar.

Fuck.

Chapter 3

CAREFREE AND HELLA HOT

LAYLA

Ugh.Nope.Swipe.

Not you.Swipe.

Damn, you just look creepy, my friend.Swipe.

And that’s why I don’t spend much time on the Match Me app these days. Trust me when I say that I love everything this app has done for me, but it clearly is not the app I dreamed up more than a decade ago.

In my third year at Indiana University, I was dating a guy named Trevor, who was pursuing a master’s in computer science. He was building apps like mad and I had shared an idea about a dating app. That’s where my little app baby was born.

Fortunately, Match Me went on to be one of the most popular dating apps available. Unfortunately, Trevor and I didn’t last long once we started developing the app together. That’s okay, though. We made a better professional team than a couple.

Trevor wanted to see the app through the process and decided not to sell it off. So he created his own development company and now has several successful apps on the market. After a couple of years, the money was rolling in, but the app was a lot of work, and my heart wasn’t in it. I wanted to focus my time on my matchmaking business, so I offered to sell my portion of the app to him. Trevor was understanding but wanted to make sure I still saw monetary gain from the app, so per a written agreement, I would be available for new ideas only as necessary and he would send me a check quarterly for a small percentage of sales. It was a win-win for me, and the quarterly, near six-figure checks help me live my dream with HEA, Inc.

But when it’s all said and done, I’m just not finding much quality dates on Match Me anymore. Maybe I need to send Trevor a message and let him know it’s time to clean house. The fact that a matchmaker has to use a dating app is utterly ridiculous, I know. But I don’t have time to find my one true love right now. But a girl needs a night out once in a while and a little romance to boot. While I’m not into one-night stands, casual dating with sex attached, now that I can handle.

I place my phone face down on the desk, leaning back in my chair. I just got off a call with a client who wanted to talk to me personally about a date she went on a few days ago. But she was very chatty and our call lasted longer than I had expected.

Blowing a raspberry between my lips, I remember it’s been a good few months since my own last date. Normally, I’m so caught up in work that a few months between dates isn’t a huge deal, but ever since Cassie moved in with Theo, it’s been niggling at me that being single is kinda lonely.

I love that my best friend found love. She and Theo are perfect together. But darn it if it doesn’t make me just a little bit jealous.

My eyes flicker to my computer screen as a new email alert pops up. It’s from Ruth, but I don’t open it.

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