by R. S. Elliot
I wanted to be that person jet-setting across the globe. I wanted to be the one to spend a year in another country just to try something new, to backpack through Europe, blaze trails across the Andes Mountains, and visit the sherpas in the Himalayas.
These were all the things I planned to do after earning the degree my parents insisted I have.
Now, all those dreams had gone up in smoke—literally.
“I know,” I said finally, quietly. “It’s...been busy.”
Another sigh, and Flynn took hold of my arm and led me to a seat at one of the desks. He pulled a chair up beside me and sat across from me, our knees almost touching. “Geez, Lynds. I’ve never seen you like this before. Are you sure this is all just because of your grandmother?”
“It’s a bit of everything. It’s all just piling up at the moment.”
Flynn leaned back in his chair, crossing his arms over his chest, and adding, “So what brings you here, other than the assault warrant now out for your arrest.”
I squinted playfully. He was trying to lighten the mood. At least, I could try to play along. “Ha, ha. I need a favor.”
“Of course, you do.”
“Hey, now.” I wagged a finger out in front of me. “I believe you still owe me one after I was a wingwoman for that sexy waitress you had your eye on at the Christmas Eve party.”
“What?” He uncrossed his arms to hold them out at his side in confusion. “Three years ago? You still keeping track of all that?”
“Why wouldn’t I?”
Flynn ran a hand over his face, as frustrated as the other men in my life appeared to be lately. “Lynds, I’ll help you if I’m able. But it’s time to put the scorebook away.”
“You’re just saying that because you still owe me like a hundred favors.”
He tipped his head to the side, giving me a sympathetic smile. “I’ve never actually needed help with women. I only asked you because you just looked so sad and lonely in the bar all the time. You know. I wanted to give you something to do.”
“Oh, really?” I laughed.
“Yeah. I mean, it was a pity ask really.”
This time, I only lightly tapped him on the arm. Though it was enough to trigger a defensive pose from him.
“Fine, I’ll help,” he said. “But then we’re even. Especially since I get the impression it involves something illegal.”
“It doesn’t. But someone set my house on fire a few nights ago, and I need to know who.”
He looked sincerely confused. “Isn’t that a job for the arson inspector?”
“They think I did it.” Which was absurd. They just wanted to write it off as quickly as possible, rather than launch a full-scale investigation. “They said I lit a candle in a room I hadn’t even been in and left it near a curtain.”
“Well, did you?”
I nearly leaped out of my seat. Not him too. “Of course, I didn’t.”
“Look.” He held out both hands in surrender. “Sometimes things get hectic and we forget doing things, going places.”
“I didn’t forget, Flynn,” I exclaimed. “I wouldn’t burn a candle, nor would I be stupid enough to leave it burning near a curtain.”
He reached behind him and retrieved a pad and pencil from the desk. “I can take a look at the property, but I’m not sure what you expect me to find there.”
“I think it was Kyle and his wife.”
He stopped, pen suspended midair over the paper. “What? So, you want me to tail them?”
“Can’t you tap into their phone calls, texts, and emails?” I shrugged. “Things like that?”
“Not without a warrant. Are you insane?”
“Well, isn’t there something you can do?” I asked.
“I’ll ask around,” he said, rising to his feet and flipping the pad of paper closed. “See if anyone has heard anything about it. Though to be fair, I didn’t even know you had a house in town.”
“It’s my grandmothers,” I said, following his example and standing. I had already taken up too much of his time to pursue a silly whim aimed at his one-time best friend. Not to mention, I had my own appointment to keep with the same man I knew was responsible for setting the fire.
“And you think Kyle and his wife torched it?” Flynn asked, disbelief saturating every word. “Kyle? The one who’s had his eye on Hummingbird Hollow since he was eight?”
“I don’t know.” I shrugged. “Maybe it was one of those ‘if I can’t have it, no one can’ situations. You know Kyle. He can be ruthless.”
“I’ll see what I can come up with,” Flynn said, pushing me toward the door. “But for now, lie low. Don’t go poking the bear or anything. If Kyle is involved in this, then you’re going to want to keep your distance.”
Great. Keep my distance.
I turned toward Flynn. “That may be a problem.”
“I can’t say that we’re pleased to have you here,” Vanessa said, leading me down the long corridor to the conference room. “However, your parents have given me full-license to fire you if you break any of our policies and procedures. Which I intend to see to the letter.”
“You’re all heart.”
“Don’t think we aren’t all completely convinced that you schmoozed your way into Grandma’s pockets,” Vanessa said, without looking over her shoulder at me. Anyone watching us would have assumed she was simply briefing me on the latest policies or sales they had in place. “That house and this company rightfully belonged to Kyle and me. We are the ones working our asses off to keep Grandma’s estate afloat, while you run off to play the delinquent college student to a fault.”
“I didn’t realize Grandma’s multi-million dollar assets were in such disrepair.” To be fair, the estate was probably closer to a billion dollars by now, but who was counting?
“Yes, well, after you foolishly caused the fire in that house,” Vanessa said, “her assets have significantly diminished, haven’t they?”
I stopped her, forcing her to look me in the eye. “You know as well as I do, I didn’t start that fire.”
Her scowl softened into a smirk that was half malicious and half cloying sweetness. “Why, Lyndsey. I haven’t the slightest clue what you mean by that.”
The look she gave me was practically a confession. Though a sardonic smirk wouldn’t really hold up in court. I knew this woman and her sleazy husband were responsible for what happened to my home, and now they also held the reigns to my future.
Flynn was right. I needed to tread carefully. My life was in the hands of people who wanted to see me ruined. Which meant I’d have to play nice, despite how much I wanted to see justice served.
Eventually, they would get what was coming to them. But for now, I had to play this little game.
“First things first,” Vanessa said, and pivoted on her heel down the hall. “Number one rule, no fraternizing with the clients. I know holding back that famous Saunders’s charm may be a challenge for you, but these clients are completely off limits. You can guide them and instruct them in how to interact with potential mates, take them to the locations, things like that. But there is to be no inappropriate behavior whatsoever.”
“Got it,” I snapped. “No sexing up the clients.”
The muscles in Vanessa’s jaw twitched. I wasn’t doing a very good job at playing nice, though neither was she.
“You also want to maintain the client at all times. We offer a one hundred percent satisfaction guarantee. Which means, if our clients aren’t happy, then we aren’t happy,” Vanessa explained. “It also means doing everything in your power to ensure they receive the best quality experience as possible. Most of our clients are interested in arranged marriages, something simple to make their lives easier. So, it really comes down to knowing the client you’re working with, as well as all the other clients in the database. Compatibility is key.”
“Sounds romantic.”
“In my experience, romance has little to do with marriage,” Vanessa explained, completely se
rious. “It’s more about going in the same direction. Someone who helps you attain your goals. That’s what it’s all about. That’s what these people are looking for when it comes to a match. Someone who will take care of them. Someone who will look good on their arm at company galas. Someone who will provide strong, healthy, beautiful children.”
I could finally see why my grandmother might have left the company to my parents instead of to Kyle and Vanessa. This was definitely not the vision Grandma had in mind when she first started her company with my grandfather all those years ago. In fact, they had been so much in love that they couldn’t wait to open a business that shared the same principles and values as their love inspired in them. They wanted others to fall in love, to find that special someone who fulfilled them and gave them hope to see through each new struggle at the end of the day.
There was nothing wrong with arranged marriages, of course. But it simply wasn’t what my grandparents had in mind. This new concept seemed cold—mechanical. Far too much like a business arrangement and unlike anything I’ve ever seen.
“Irma will give you your client list,” Vanessa said, ushering me into the conference room. “We have a couple new ones with some special requirements. However, I’m sure with your resourceful nature, you’ll have no trouble at all finding them a match.”
“Of course not.” It figures. She was sticking me with all the worst clients in order to bring about my failure even quicker. I was already starting behind the eight ball. My parents had to know she’d try something like this. Was this all a part of the test? Me being able to smile and succeed in the face of adversity?
You can do this. You helped talk people through jitters and fears before. You’ve helped people find their perfect match even when they didn’t know it at first.
Though this was different. Could I really force someone into a marriage, a lifetime commitment, when it wasn’t really what they wanted?
Vanessa opened the door to the conference room and held her arm out for me to enter. A small woman no larger than four-foot-eight stood before me. Her soft white perm stayed completely intact as she moved, held together by some sort of adhesive hairspray even I found impressive. Before introductions could even be made, Vanessa disappeared back behind the door, leaving me alone with the petite woman who’d likely been employed at the office since it opened in the seventies.
“You must be Lyndsey,” the woman said, adjusting her spectacles along her nose before extending a hand out to me. The other arm held a clipboard firmly against her chest, as if containing vital information unfit for civilian eyes. “I’m Irma. I knew your grandmother. She spoke very highly of you. I’m so sorry for your loss.”
“Thank you.” I shook her hand, surprised to find one ounce of kindness in this cold new world I was being forced to accept. Irma’s eyes stared back at me through her spectacles, a calm sympathy spilling out of them as if she knew a truth I did not. I wondered how close she and my grandmother really were. I had heard of Irma in passing, though nothing in depth. Grandma cared more about telling the family stories, passing on old traditions, and leaving behind a legacy worth fighting for. She never spent much time in the present.
At least not with me.
“Now, your first client is waiting for you just beyond those doors,” Irma said, pointing to a series of doors along one side of the wall in the conference room. They were likely the holding areas for new clients, especially when the matchmaker was so new, she didn’t even have her own office yet. “He’s a special client. Not really receptive to anything that we’re doing here, but Vanessa insisted that he stay on board.”
Of course, she did.
And of course, that’s why she was giving him to me. If this client decided to run away, or got cold feet, Vanessa would have no other choice but to terminate my contract. I wouldn’t get my inheritance, or rather what little would be left of it after my parents were through with me.
The whole of my family was conspiring against me. First, my grandmother leaving me this house, then, my villainous cousins with the fire. Then, I couldn’t forget my parents, who were forcing me into this whole situation with my inheritance, and then, back to my loving cousins who were trying to sabotage all attempts of me reclaiming my normal life.
I hated this town.
I grabbed the dossier Irma held out to me and made my way to the door. It opened, revealing a specimen not only too handsome for words, one I knew all too well. I instantly recognized my client as the firefighter the cafe worker referred to as Hunter. The same man who had been the subject of the past two hot and steamy sex dreams that had left me panting in my empty bed without an explanation each night.
So, it wasn’t just my family who was out to get me. It was the universe.
Perfect.
Chapter Seven
Hunter
The day couldn’t possibly get any worse.
Not only was I stuck doing the ridiculous matchmaking ordeal my sister forced me into, the woman assigned to helping me find my perfect match was the one woman I couldn’t get out of my head.
Not to mention she looked damn near ready to either pounce on me or run out of the room at any given moment.
I wasn’t entirely sure which would have been preferable. I only acutely grew aware of my entire body reacting to her presence, wanting to scoop her up into my arms and take her right there on the desk separating us. She wore a tight little skirt and a blouse with loose sleeves. I could faintly make out the shape of her breasts beneath the top, though she’d done a decent job at being conservative. Especially when compared to the outfits I’d seen her in when outside of the office environment.
“So,” she said uneasily, inching her way toward the desk between us. “You’re Hunter, I take it.”
“That I am,” I said, rising to my feet and extending a hand toward her. “Hunter Carson.”
She took my hand, hesitating only when I said my last name. Her head tilted to the side, inspecting me as if I had just played a cruel joke on her. “Carson? As in Vanessa’s maiden name Carson?”
“Yes.” I nodded. “Vanessa is my sister.”
All color drained from the woman’s face, quickly replaced by a dull pink. She turned her face away and whispered something that sounded like “son of a bitch,” but I couldn’t be sure. With one long inhale of breath, she faced me once again, this time with a smile to rival a dental ad.
“Wonderful.” She claimed the seat across from me. “I’m Lyndsey, your matchmaker.”
Hmm. And here I thought things couldn’t get any worse.
“Lyndsey? As in the dreaded Lyndsey Saunders?”
Her eyes latched onto mine, cold and insistent, despite the anxiousness from before. “I’m not a pirate, Mr. Carson. I don’t pillage small fishing villages and bury treasure on deserted islands. Nor do I want to know the many erroneous and, no doubt, convoluted stories my cousins may have told you about me. I’m here to see that you get everything you need from our services.”
Damn. She’s wound like a top!
She’d been stubborn and opinionated since the moment I first met her, but this was a whole new level. Though, I admit I could have handled my surprise at her identity a little bit better. I don’t imagine there were many women who appreciated being called “dreaded” or reminded how badly they didn’t belong with the rest of the people in their family.
I groaned.
God, I’m such an ass.
“Look, I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have said that. I’m just frustrated. I’m not really interested in these matchmaking services.”
She smiled tritely, flipping through the files in front of her. “Then one would wonder why you signed up for them in the first place.”
“That would be my sister’s doing. She’s not very patient when it comes to...well, anything,” I explained. Like literally anything. Though, mentioning my sister’s horrible character when it came to people certainly wouldn’t get me on this woman’s good side. “And I may have foolishly me
ntioned wanting to find a wife. She then took the initiative to sign me up for this instead.”
Lyndsey shook her head, confused. “And what’s wrong with a matchmaking service? Isn’t finding a wife what this is all about?”
“You would think, but my sister and I don’t necessarily see eye to eye on these kinds of things.” You know, the whole sacrifice love for convenience sort of thing. Though explaining that to Lyndsey would only make matters even more awkward than they already were.
“Meaning…?”
She was really going to make me explain all of this? How could I talk about love and passion in front of this woman? She’d been all I’d been able to think about for the past few days. It had taken everything to remind myself that a woman like her was trouble, real trouble. The kind that made a man drain his bank account and give up on dreams for the future, all for a two-month fling that included mind-blowing sex with a hot blonde.
I could live with that.
“Mr. Carson, are you still with us?” Lyndsey asked.
I nodded, stupefied by my own fantasies and desperately trying to rid myself of the images now swirling around my head. How the hell was I supposed to work in close proximity to this woman? Let alone discussing intimate details about my life and things I wanted from a long-term partner?
“Yes, I apologize. My sister...” I stammered through my response. “She is more interested in business, where I am more interested in…connections.”
“Well, that’s good,” Lyndsey said, the irritation slowly leaving her. “We can focus on attraction and finding common interests, rather than finding someone who fits your lifestyle.”
Finding someone who fits my lifestyle? That sounded like something someone would do when purchasing a pet. “Sure. Whatever we need to do, I guess. Get this done and over with.”