Reunited: Matchmakers Book 4

by Declan Rhodes

  “If they do their job well, I might find a husband. I know at least one couple that started that way. It’s a quiet, sensible approach.”

  After he grew impatient for me to respond, Harissa’s head chef spoke again. “Please forgive me for a minor breach of privacy, but may I ask whether this dinner will be a business occasion or a social evening out?”

  I stared into his eyes and didn’t answer.

  “Oh, please, don’t answer that. Excuse me for crossing over a line. It’s one of my weaknesses. Maybe I’m a little too gregarious with my guests.”

  I reached out and placed a hand on the man’s shoulder, accompanied by a grin. “No, it’s quite fine. Hopefully, it will be a pleasurable evening, and business will be far from our thoughts by the end of dinner. Could I bother you for one thing?”

  “Oh, of course. I’m at your service for the evening.”

  “If my guest agrees, I’d love for you to select the food and wine courses for our evening.”

  “I would be more than happy to do that. As soon as your fellow diner arrives, I’ll return to kick off an evening of culinary adventure.”

  I hoped the chef didn’t see me shaking my head as he returned to the kitchen. I appreciated the confidence, but his over-the-top commentary that made dinner sound like a trip to a theme park rubbed me the wrong way. I wanted a delicious, inspirational meal with a few surprises here and there. A white-knuckled roller coaster ride through peaks and valleys of odd and unusual mystery dishes was an entirely different experience.

  Joseph, my date for the evening, was a successful businessman like me. He’d built a local chain of three bread bakeries into a northeastern Illinois empire. His Match Made profile said that he owned a dozen outlets with three more on the way within the next year.

  I’d planned to avoid bringing up business over dinner, but we needed to start talking somehow. With our mutual experiences building brand names, I thought it wouldn’t be difficult to find a work-related topic to break the conversation ice. Later, we could move on to more intimate matters.

  When I first contacted Match Made, I was surprised to find that Daniel was out of the country on a cruise. His second-in-command, Blake, mentioned that it was possible to conduct the computer match right away, but he suggested that I wait until Daniel’s return. Blake explained that they preferred to have two heads review customer matches instead of only one.

  At first, I thought that was sound advice, but upon more reflection, I pushed for an immediate match. If the date went well, I’d have a reconnection with Daniel that rested on a foundation of success. If meeting Joseph turned out to be a dud, I didn’t need to stir the embers of my past experiences with Daniel at all.

  “But that’s such a rush,” insisted Blake. “I don’t know whether Daniel…”

  I interrupted him over the phone and growled in my best basso profundo. “I’m lonely. That’s why I contacted you. Let’s go—if you’re confident in your firm’s capability.”

  I was distracted enough by my internal reflection on the match process that I didn’t notice Joseph’s approach until he spoke.

  “You must be Kenneth.”

  I prided myself on my ability to think on my feet. As I rose from the table to meet my date face-to-face, I said, “I must be. I don’t think I see anyone else nearby who would fit that name.”

  It had been a long time since I’d met someone so utterly uninspiring as Joseph. He initially struck me as a perfect choice for the “everyman” model in a car insurance commercial. When he laughed at my quick-thinking joke, it was the sound of a sitcom laugh track. It was immediately apparent to me that a successful evening would require more heavy lifting on my part than I’d expected.

  Fortunately, the food was tasty. Joseph pressed the last wedge of pita bread against the hummus plate to make sure he didn’t leave a single speck for the dishwashers. For a moment, I feared that he would lick the plate clean. After sucking on his index finger, he asked, “So you sell razors?”

  I smiled politely. “Among other products.”

  Joseph nodded, leaned back, and grinned. It was a devilish little smile, and its appearance was the best moment of the meal so far. I saw a slight sparkle in his eyes. Perhaps he wasn’t as gloomy as I’d imagined.

  “I didn’t mean that to be an insult. I had Niles, my assistant, do some research. I hope you don’t mind. I always think some background data is useful.”

  I was a Googler, too. “Not at all, and yes, I sell razors, but most recently, we’ve moved into a line of male-focused grooming products. Face moisturizers, beard oils, detanglers, softeners, and plenty of care for the top of the head, too.”

  We talked about the ups and downs of building a business, marketing hints, and the long hours. Joseph was intelligent if a little unpolished and rough around the edges. By the time the chef delivered flan to finish off the meal, I had decided it was a more worthwhile evening than sitting at home. There, I’d sprawl on the sofa alone, binge-watching the latest and greatest TV drama.

  The hug that ended the evening was warm and genuine. Joseph gazed into my eyes. “Thank you. According to everyone I know, I spend too many hours either in the office or inspecting bakeries. Tonight reminded me what real life is like.”

  I wasn’t ready to push the idea of a revelatory evening, but it was a pleasant distraction. I asked, “We’ll text?”

  “Absolutely.” Joseph pointed up the street. “My car’s that way.”

  “And I’m down there.” We didn’t have a reason to walk each other to our cars and strode in opposite directions.

  As I drove into the old neighborhoods along the north shore, Joseph faded from my consciousness, and Daniel took his place. It didn’t surprise me that my brain immediately began to make comparisons. I could count the dates I’d been on since our breakup on one hand. Only the man represented by my index finger lasted for more than a month, and Andrew cried in my arms when his banking firm transferred him to Singapore. The tears dried quickly. It didn’t take him long to find a wealthy local and purchase a home in Sydney, Australia.

  I crept along with my jeep’s headlights and found my way through a neighborhood shrouded in darkness. Less than a week before our ugly end, Daniel kicked off the next phase of my life. I described my subscription toothbrush idea, and he exclaimed, “That’s a game-changer! Start tomorrow.”

  He was right. Most of the time, Daniel was correct about everything, and he had tremendous insight into people and what they needed and what they’d buy to address their needs. A shiver crept up my spine as a visceral memory of cuddling Daniel in my arms tugged at my thoughts. I’d probably never forget.

  I turned off the street to pull into my long driveway. It wound its way through a grove of trees for nearly a quarter-mile until my home came into view perched on the bluff overlooking Lake Michigan.

  I made a mental note to contact Daniel directly about the date with Joseph and congratulate Match Made on setting up my enjoyable evening. There was another reason to speak with him.

  Gay couples were a significant part of my clientele, and I knew that it would be excellent if Daniel could point me in the direction of attractive pairs who might appreciate receiving some extra cash for appearances in advertisements. I’d let him know that I’d share the good word about his business among my associates.

  My cellphone buzzed in my pocket as I climbed out of the jeep. It was my lawyer, Hank Donovan. Calls about minor legal matters were not unusual.

  Hank was an outstanding attorney, but he had a way of working himself into a lather over problems easily solved outside of a courtroom. I hoped that wasn’t the reason for the call.

  Or it might be a call to lecture me again on the need for more than one personal assistant in my office. I liked it that way. Sean was the perfect buffer between me and the hectic day-to-day operations. I trusted him, and I didn’t have to worry about a team of less loyal staff turning stories about me into rumors that would run rampant in Chicago’s elite circl
es.

  I glanced at my watch. It was also late in the evening, so Hank’s call could be about anything.

  “Kenneth! I’m sorry. It’s late. I had this on my mind, and I didn’t want to forget. Luke told me I only needed to write it down, because you’ll say yes, but I always err on the cautious side. You know me.”

  “What are you babbling about? Is this an emergency?”

  “No issues. No need to worry. You are going to be at the wedding. Aren’t you? Just two weeks away, and it feels a little like quicksand or maybe the vortex of a black hole.”

  “Does Luke know you feel this way?”

  “Of course he does. It’s not about him. I’m ready to elope. So many things could go wrong. I constantly pray that they won’t.”

  The breeze off the lake was bracing, and I quickly made my way inside while the conversation continued. “And what can I do to help? Should I charter a plane for the two of you? I promise that I’ll deny any knowledge of the scheme.”

  Hank chuckled. “You know we won’t do that. I think we got your RSVP. You will be at the wedding. Right?”

  “Wouldn’t miss it for the world. You’re more than my attorney now. We’re good friends.”

  “Excellent. Luke is probably right. You’ll say yes.”

  “Why do I feel like I’m getting sucked into the black hole at your side?”

  “Because you probably are. It’s not a big deal. One of our ushers had to back out of the wedding. We want you to take their place.”

  “Bride or groom?”

  Hank didn’t answer for a moment. I heard a muffled voice in the background. “Luke says, ‘Very funny.’ We won’t assign roles in a rigid way like a traditional ceremony. Just show up in a nice suit, and you’ll be ready to go.”

  I breathed a sigh of relief. Hank was one of the best guardians of my legal interests. Some thought his location in Milwaukee would be awkward and impractical. I didn’t see it that way. He was fully licensed to practice in Illinois, and I knew that he maintained a healthy distance from the sometimes corrupt court system in my city.

  Hank’s personal life was unpredictable at times, to say the least. He had barely settled into dating Luke when a tragic traffic accident suddenly made him a second dad to Luke’s niece. The invitation to usher at Hank’s wedding in two weeks was a sweet and straightforward request. “I’ll be happy to help. You’re one of my favorite couples, and you both know that.”

  3

  Daniel

  I’d been home from the cruise for three days. I was counting them off one-by-one, and I still couldn’t see straight. Memories of Kenneth gnawed at my brainstem. I couldn’t remember anything else. Blake and Iris both prompted me at least five different times about tasks I’d agreed to take on through comments made in conversations and email messages.

  The only bright moment since the end of the trip happened the day after my return. I received a text message from Seb.

  “Hey, how’s the re-entry? I know I was a little abrupt yesterday, and I’m so, so sorry. One of those work things popped into my head, and I’d promised to deal with it on the flight home. It took over my thoughts at the wrong time. How about dinner?”

  It was only Wednesday, and Seb suggested Saturday. I’d already suffered through half of the week and wanted to whine about the need for an earlier date, but two deep breaths later, I sent back:

  “That’s great. Can’t wait to see you. We’ll pretend downtown is the lido deck, and the street lights are potted palm trees. No shivering in the cold allowed.”

  While I stared blankly at the computer screen in my office and contemplated what I could do to get through the tail end of the week, Blake pushed my half-open office door and poked his head in for a moment. “I’ve got coffee.”

  “I’m not sure I need anything else to fuel the fireworks in my head. I think I slept only three hours last night.”

  “Damn. Is that still about the guy? I’ve got a suggestion.”

  “Murder? Arson? Those are the current thoughts that keep running through my head. His name’s Kenneth, by the way.” I spit the name out like the liver and onions I hated on my plate as a kid. “Calling him a guy minimizes the pain.”

  Blake ignored my theatrics. “I thought about a suggestion that I give him a phone call and politely decline to keep him in our computer system. We could come up with a reason. Maybe there’s a security risk for Match Made with such a wealthy man as a client. If he’s already gone on a date with the match, there’s nothing we can do about that, but we can keep him away from you.”

  I stared in disbelief. “What the hell? What kind of businessman do you think I am? We’ve got implied contracts after we accept him into the system in the first place. And how do we explain it to Hank if Kenneth would decide to make a legal complaint? We just felt like interfering in a client’s personal life—on a whim? We might as well close the doors tomorrow if we’re going to do that.”

  “And you have a better idea? I’m not sure murder ranks higher than my suggestion.”

  “I was joking—sort of.”

  Blake settled himself in the chair opposite my desk and set a mug of coffee in front of me. My nerves were frazzled and on edge, but I sipped it anyway. Drinking coffee placed less than two feet from my mouth was a reflexive behavior.

  “How about I change the subject? You didn’t forget about Hank and Luke’s wedding, did you?”

  I wrapped my hands around the mug and smiled for a few seconds when the heat crept into my hands. “No, I didn’t, but you’re going to tell me it will happen a whole lot earlier than I was thinking. Right?”

  “A week from Saturday. I’ve got a suggestion. Why don’t you bring the new boyfriend with you?”

  I tilted my head to the right. “Do you think he’s my boyfriend? We haven’t gone out since I got home. Does a fling on a boat count as a relationship?”

  “But—five days together, and you said you’re going out Saturday. That sounds like more than a fling.”

  I lowered my head into my hands. “I’m not sure a wedding is something I can handle. If I drag Seb into it, that might only make it worse.”

  “Or it might be just the thing. Hunter can’t wait. He tells me how romantic it is. I think he’s on Cloud Nine with the two grooms.”

  I tried not to clench my teeth. “So sweet.”

  “We’ve gone shopping three times now for clothes. I suggested that I wear what I wore at the auction when we met, and he grumbled. I think I tried on eight different suits before we settled on one. I felt like a paper doll.”

  I rotated my hand to encourage Blake to keep talking. I wasn’t really paying attention, but his voice was enough of a distraction that I started to forget about Kenneth. Maybe Blake was right. The opportunity to watch a happy couple confirm their future in front of all of their friends and family could chase the gloom away. And I could ask Seb to join me at my side. Those muscles would be striking wrapped in a quality wool suit.

  Blake continued his story. “When I came out of the dressing room with the last suit on, I thought Hunter might drop to his knees and offer me a ring. He couldn’t stop talking about weddings and flowers and honeymoons. Hunter wants to go to Rome.”

  “Is that where you’d like to go?”

  Blake blushed when he said, “I’d go anywhere if Hunter asked me to marry him.”

  I rubbed my chin. “Didn’t you think he would pop the question months ago before Alex and Finn got together?”

  “Yep, but it was too early. I think we might both be ready now. We can’t rush these things.”

  That single word “rush” took me back to the worst three days of my life, when my relationship with Kenneth fell apart. On day one, he stared deep into my eyes while I dug a hand into my pocket for the ring.

  His words seared themselves into my heart. “Daniel, I think we need to pull back and slow it down. It all feels rushed to me.”

  Matrimony Day continued in the present when Iris suddenly burst into the office.
Her face flushed red, and she opened her mouth to speak, but no words came out.

  “What’s up with you?” Blake’s forehead wrinkled with concern.

  A single tear began to roll down the left side of Iris’s face. She finally found a voice, not entirely her own. A tiny squeak escaped, almost like a mouse. “Oh, my God!”

  Blake began to applaud when Iris pulled her hand from behind her back and held it out for both of us. A shiny ring gleamed in the mid-morning light streaming through my office window.

  A massive hug followed. I knew that it would be impolite to do anything but join in. The three of us, the core staff behind Match Made, bear-hugged to celebrate the first of us getting engaged.

  As the three of us backed away from each other, Blake took Iris’s hand and held the ring up close to his nose. “Ollie finally came through. He’s got good taste in rings, too. I’ll have to ask him about that and maybe drop another hint in Hunter’s direction.”

  Iris finally regained her voice. “He surprised me. After all this time, I didn’t expect it when he asked. We were in a kayak on the Milwaukee River. Can you believe that?”

  “How did he kneel in the kayak? And isn’t it cold out there?”

  “He didn’t. We bundled up. Ollie likes to get out on the water as soon as the river thaws. Thinking about it makes me laugh and cry.”

  “As long as neither of you got so excited that you fell in.”

  “Ollie told me to stop paddling for a minute. I thought he was admiring the buildings. Instead, in the most humdrum conversational voice, he asked, ‘Will you marry me?’”

  I joined the conversation with an obvious question. “What’d you say?”

  “I was horrible. How could it be an actual proposal? In a boat? I said, ‘Of course, I will. One of these days. When you finally ask me.’”

  Blake folded his arms over his chest. “You didn’t. I’m surprised he didn’t just dump you in the river.”

  “I know, right? So then he reaches behind his back and digs into the kayak. When his arm reappeared, he had this little ring box in his hand. The rest is history, of course.”