Matchmaker (Empire High Book 4)

by Ivy Smoak

  “Uncle Richard is really the only father figure I have left.”

  “I’m sorry about that.” And I truly was. Because having Mr. Pruitt for a father was worse than not having one at all.

  She smiled. “Why do you hate him so much? He always speaks so highly of you.”

  “I’m sure that’s not true.”

  “It is.” Her lips pouted slightly as she stared at me. “I mean, I guess he is a little displeased with you right now.”

  “About that. If he wants to hurt me? Fine. But Scarlett…”

  “I really don’t want to talk about business tonight.”

  “I’m only here to talk about business.”

  Her eyes searched mine. “Is the thought of getting to know me that awful?”

  “I fell in love with a member of your family. Mr. Pruitt killed her. And Isabella forced one of my best friends to marry her. And then after he finally divorced her, she went even more psycho and tried to have him and his wife…”

  “I’m not Isabella.”

  “You could have fooled me.”

  She lowered her eyebrows. “I know my cousin had her flaws.”

  “It was a little more than that.”

  “Fine, she was crazy,” Poppy said with a laugh.

  And for some reason I smiled too.

  “It’s a lot of pressure being in this family. Uncle Richard is very hard to please. And honestly? I had no desire to take over the business. It was always supposed to be Isabella. There were even rumors in the family for a few months there when we all thought Brooklyn might be handed the reins.”

  That never would have happened.

  “But…here I am.” She shrugged. “I’m actually kind of good at it. And I enjoy the work. It’s given me something to focus on after my divorce.”

  “You could just get a normal job.”

  “Now where’s the fun in that? Besides, you got a legacy job. It’s not that different.”

  “I earned my position. And it is different, Poppy. My job is legal.”

  “So is mine.”

  Did she honestly believe that? I stared at her and she smiled. It didn’t look quite as evil as before, but the message was still clear. She wasn’t stupid. She knew what kind of business she was about to take over.

  “I’m no accountant though,” Poppy said. “Uncle Richard had Isabella study the appropriate subjects in college to prepare. But I was never supposed to take over. You do accounting though, right?”

  “Finance is different.”

  “Surely you took similar classes. All business majors do. I was going to be a teacher.”

  I raised my eyebrows. I really couldn’t picture her teaching children. She’d been really harsh and distant with her daughter, Gigi.

  “Don’t look at me like that,” she said with a laugh. “I actually love children. Stop, I’m serious,” she said with a laugh.

  I must have still been making the same face. “I’m sorry. It just seemed like Gigi…”

  “Annoys me to no end? Well, sometimes. Most people see me when they look at her. But she has her father’s eyes. And nose. And I can’t help but see a cheating scoundrel. I’m going to therapy for that. I don’t want to resent my daughter the way I resent my ex-husband.”

  Wow. That was…a lot. And way more insightful than I ever expected from her.

  “But I do love children. And I will do my best to make sure nothing happens to Scarlett.”

  “Your best? The other day you said you wouldn’t hurt her.”

  She shrugged. “Like I just said, I’ll do my best. But I’m not the one in charge right now. My uncle is.”

  “Mr. Pruitt said he didn’t know what I was talking about when I brought up Scarlett.”

  “And who do you believe more? Him or me?”

  “Neither.” I’d never trust a thing either of them said.

  She smiled. “So you don’t really have much of a choice to go along with this, Matthew. Speaking of which, I’m going to need something from you in return for keeping Scarlett safe.”

  Of course she was going to ask for something in return. And I knew exactly what it was. She’d certainly mentioned my career enough times whenever I’d seen her.

  The waiter dropped off our glasses of champagne and Poppy dismissed him with a wave of her hand.

  “Perfect timing,” she said and lifted up her champagne flute.

  “Poppy…”

  “Just hear me out. If we start dating, I think Uncle Richard will be more likely to step down.”

  Dating?!

  “Honestly, it’s suffocating with him breathing down my neck. I’m ready to take over. And if he thinks we’re going steady, he’ll feel more comfortable, I know it. Like I said before, he respects you. And your business is in my weak spot. We’d be the perfect couple in his eyes.”

  I laughed. “I’m not going to date you, Poppy.”

  She put down her champagne flute. “But, Matthew…” She reached out and tried to put her hand on top of mine on the table, but I quickly pulled away. “You don’t have much of a choice,” she said. “Unless you don’t care about little Scarlett after all?”

  I felt like I was holding my breath. Like I’d been holding it for years. And I had no idea if my lungs knew how to work anymore. Not in this shitty world where Brooklyn didn’t exist and Poppy held all the cards.

  “What do you say?” she said with a smile and lifted her champagne flute again.

  My phone buzzed. I looked down at a text from Kennedy: “Actually, if you do happen to want even more food, I have a craving for ice cream. I would be 100% okay if you wanted to bring some. Something chocolatey please and thank you.”

  It would have made me laugh if it didn’t feel like I was being suffocated.

  “Matthew?” Poppy said. “Do we have a deal?”

  There was nothing I could say. Maybe being close to her would give me the dirt I needed on Mr. Pruitt. My mind swirled with maybes. But none of them mattered. They didn’t change what I had to do. I didn’t have a choice. Because I’d do anything to keep James and Penny’s daughter safe. “You swear you’ll stay away from Scarlett? That no one will touch a hair on her head?”

  “I promise. She’ll be perfectly safe.”

  I lifted my glass. “Is there an end date to this charade?”

  “Why? Are you seeing someone?”

  I thought about Kennedy. The way it felt to wake up with her head on my chest and my arms wrapped around her. I wanted that again. It was wrong. I knew that. And yet…I wanted it again tonight. For the first time in 16 years, I felt like I was actually ready for another chance. I stared at Poppy. “No, I’m not seeing anyone.” What the hell else could I say?

  “Good. That would complicate things. It’s all about the image, but obviously I’m hoping this becomes much more than a charade. Wouldn’t that be nice?” She clinked her glass against mine.

  I felt like I was going to throw up. I downed my champagne. That did not help.

  “Speaking of which, the photographers will be here shortly so we can get our picture taken for all the tabloids. By this time tomorrow the whole city will know we’re together. Let’s make sure our meal is placed so it looks like we’re having a romantic dinner. We have to set the scene. Where is that dreadful waiter?” She snapped her fingers. “And next time please wear something more presentable.”

  Chapter 31

  Wednesday

  I’d finished the bottle of champagne before the photographers had even shown up. I could tell Poppy was mad at me. But I really didn’t fucking care. I’d had a few scotches after she was done pretending to stare affectionately at me for the cameras. Anyone would have after that ordeal, especially after the awkward few seconds when Poppy had put her lips to mine while the cameras flashed. I was pretty sure I’d vomited a little in my mouth. This was a date from hell. And all that seemed to make it better was scotch. Lots and lots of scotch.

  Well, maybe something else would too. Or, someone.

  I
hit the intercom button outside Kennedy’s place. I smiled remembering all the times I’d snuck into this building back in high school. I took a few steps backwards to see if I’d still be able to jump and pull down the fire escape ladder. It was pretty high. But I totally had this. I cracked my neck and stretched my arms. But before I could leap, the door buzzed open. Score! I took the stairs two at a time and felt a little dizzy by the time I reached Kennedy’s floor. I managed to avoid looking at Brooklyn’s apartment door and headed straight for Kennedy’s.

  Before I could knock, Kennedy opened the door.

  “You’re a sight for sore eyes,” I said and then laughed. I literally had no idea what that phrase meant or why I’d said it. But my eyes did like staring at her.

  “Shh!” Kennedy said with a laugh. “You’ll wake my mom.”

  “I don’t want to wake your mom.”

  “Then lower your voice,” she hissed.

  I laughed. “You lower your voice.”

  “Oh my God, Matt. Are you drunk?”

  “No,” I somehow managed to say with a completely straight face. Because I was plastered.

  “Are you sure about that?” She raised one of her eyebrows in a way I could only describe as overtly sexual. Yep. That was it. Overtly sexual.

  “Absolutely positively not drunk,” I said. “Here’s your ice cream.” I shoved the bag into her hands. “They had your favorite.” I knew her favorite ice cream. Because I knew her. I knew everything about her. Well, everything but a few things. My gaze wandered to her lips for just a beat.

  “Really? They had the forbidden chocolate? I haven’t had this in years.” She reached into the bag and pulled the container to her chest with the most orgasmic sigh.

  “Shh, your mom will hear you,” I said.

  “Hear me sighing?”

  “I have no idea what she’ll think if she heard the noise that just came out of your mouth. Come on.” I grabbed her around the waist and lifted her in the air.

  “What are you doing?” she said with a laugh as I flipped her upside down over my shoulder. “Matt, put me down.”

  “No, I’m taking you back to the couch where you belong.” I leaned down with her still balancing on my shoulder to grab the ice pack she’d discarded on the floor. Somehow one of her hands slid down to my butt.

  My whole body tensed. Not because I didn’t like it. Because I did. But I didn’t know if she knew her hand was perched precariously on my left ass cheek. And it seemed like a good idea to tell her just in case it was an accident. “Kennedy, I need to inform you that your hand is on my ass.”

  “Would you just put me down, you big oaf?”

  I laughed and tried to gently put her down. I collapsed on the couch next to her. “You touched my butt,” I said and pulled out the French fries I’d picked up after I’d gotten her ice cream.

  “I didn’t mean to.”

  “Sure,” I said. But I was pretty sure she’d meant to.

  “You’re really drunk.”

  “Am not.”

  “You’re talking so much louder than you realize,” she said with a laugh. “Oh my God, this reminds me of one night when Brooklyn and I came home drunk. Do you remember that party at Felix’s place?”

  “Yeah, I remember.” Brooklyn had looked so beautifully out of place at that party. I hadn’t been able to stay away from her.

  “Oh no, wait. Uncle Jim was pissed after that. But not as pissed as he was after the party at your house. Because we came back drunk again. He tried to ground her for life.”

  I shook my head.

  Kennedy leaned forward and for a second I thought she was going to kiss me. But then she just gently touched my neck, right below my ear. I tried not to orgasmically sigh like she had. I may have groaned though. Just a little.

  “Why do you have mud on your neck? Or is that chocolate?”

  I scratched the side of my neck where there absolutely was mud. That was going to look great in Poppy’s pictures. Serves her right. I rubbed it off on my sweatpants. “Don’t eat that,” I said and grabbed Kennedy’s hand in case she was about to put her fingers in her mouth. I pulled her hand onto my lap just to ensure she wouldn’t do something crazy. “It’s definitely mud. I have the best story,” I said and started laughing.

  Kennedy just shook her head as she smiled back at me. “Aren’t you going to tell me the story?”

  “So I went on a terrible blind date a few weeks ago. So bad that the girl actually jumped in a lake to try to avoid me tonight. I helped her out. She must have gotten some lake gunk on me. Oh, but get this…”

  “I’m still stuck on the fact that this woman jumped in a lake to avoid you. What the hell happened on your date?”

  “She was super late and tried to set my dick on fire.”

  Kennedy laughed and somehow her fingers wound up intertwined with mine.

  I didn’t pull away. And neither did she.

  “Wait, I need more than that,” Kennedy said.

  “Right. I was about to tell you more. She was married to Cupcake.”

  Kennedy cringed.

  I would have missed it if I hadn’t been staring right at her. Fuck. Why had I mentioned Cupcake to Kennedy after everything he’d done to her? That was a sure-fire way to ruin the night. “I’m sorry…”

  “It’s fine. Really.”

  I held her hand a little tighter as she fidgeted with a strand of hair that had fallen from her bun. “I was actually asking for more details about how this girl set your penis on fire.”

  “Almost. She didn’t succeed in her attempts. My dick is fine. But it was crazy. Just picture a candle and some of that oil you dip bread in. It was an accident. I think.”

  Kennedy laughed. “Well, phew. Close call, huh?”

  “Very close.” And speaking of close, her hand was pretty close to touching my dick right now. Except I was holding it still. And as much as I wanted her hand on my dick, I actually really liked holding it.

  “Did she say why they got divorced?”

  “Hm?” My mind had been preoccupied with thoughts of Kennedy touching me. “What did you say?”

  “The woman you went on a date with. She divorced Cupcake?”

  I knew what she was wondering. If he’d hurt Ash too. He had, but not in the same way. At least, I was pretty sure. “He cheated on her.”

  “What a dick.”

  “What a dick,” I said. “Someone should set him on fire.”

  Kennedy laughed and placed her chin in the palm of her hand. And she just stared at me.

  It was unnerving. I felt like I needed to get up and run around her small apartment. But I didn’t want to move because I didn’t want to let go of her hand. So I just stared back at her. “What are you thinking about over there?”

  She sighed. “Do you ever just feel like you’re stuck?”

  It was like she was speaking to my soul. “Every day. Like I’ll never actually leave high school.”

  “Being the football coach was an interesting choice then,” Kennedy said.

  I looked down at my t-shirt. We’d talked a lot during dinner with her mom last night. I could tell she thought it was an odd decision for me to choose to go back to Empire High all the time. “Like I said. I’m stuck.”

  “Well, you said you went on that bad blind date. So you’re dating. That’s good.”

  “I’m not really dating. I’m not taking that app Penny has me on seriously.”

  “But what about your dinner tonight?”

  “Business.”

  “Ah. Right, you did say that. So you’re not seeing anyone?”

  Technically I was dating Poppy now. Barf. The pictures would be plastered all over tomorrow morning’s tabloids. It was just like Poppy had said. The whole city would know by tomorrow night. But my relationship with Poppy wasn’t real. This though? Holding Kennedy’s hand? This felt real. And I didn’t want to talk about Poppy or anyone else with Kennedy. I just wanted to be here right now and be happy for five fucking seconds of
my miserable life. So I shook my head. “What about you?”

  “I just uprooted my whole life and moved back here. How would I have met someone so quickly?”

  “That doesn’t really answer my question.”

  She smiled. “I didn’t leave anyone behind, if that’s what you’re asking.”

  “What was your last serious relationship?”

  “You’re full of questions tonight, Matt. I think it’s time for me to ask one. A very important one. What’s in the other bag?” She eyed the other plastic bag I’d walked in with.

  “French fries,” I said and went to grab them. I immediately regretted it. Because my hand fell from hers and my whole body suddenly felt empty.

  “Now French fries sound good,” Kennedy said and plucked one out. “Mmm. Just what I was craving.” She grabbed another instead of opening up her ice cream container.

  Kennedy had a bad habit of never ordering the right food. She’d stolen so many fries from me while we were in school. I put the takeout bag between us so she could keep stealing my food. I’d never minded then. And I didn’t mind it now either.

  She hugged her knees to her chest and watched me.

  “What?” I asked.

  “Nothing.”

  “You should be elevating that,” I said. I reached out and grabbed her ankle, pulling it onto my lap. I placed the ice pack on top. If I couldn’t have her hand, I would at least take her foot.

  She just kept silently watching me.

  “What?” I asked again.

  “On a scale of one to ten, how drunk are you? Like are you going to remember this when you wake up tomorrow?”

  “There’s like a 50-50 chance.” As if those odds were somehow in my favor, I lightly ran my thumb along the inside of her ankle, tracing slow circles. She felt it too, right? That it was easier to breathe when we were touching?

  She didn’t pull away. “You know, when I was little, I kind of just thought the perfect guy would come find me. Like in all the Disney movies. But the only guy that showed up was Cupcake.”

  “That would be a terrible Disney movie.”

  “The worst,” she said with a laugh. But her face didn’t look very happy anymore. It looked like she wanted to cry. “And I…I stopped trying.”