Miss Match

by Lindzee Armstrong

  “You’re a matchmaker, Zoey. You know the computer isn’t wrong.”

  Zoey sighed. “I don’t know. You and Antonio feel off.”

  “There’s nothing off about us. You’re just so used to it being me and Luke that it’s hard to adjust your thinking.”

  “What happens when you get offered the promotion and Antonio still wants to move to Italy? You have to know his career will always come first.”

  Brooke clenched her jaw. She knew Zoey was right, and it didn’t sit well. “In Italy, we both get our dream careers. I might have to wait longer to get promoted, but it will still happen. It might be a struggle the first year as we adjust. But we’ll get through it. Love means making sacrifices.” And she was willing to make those sacrifices. Antonio was worth it. He loved her, despite their culture clash, and he always made her feel loved. Like the way he’d left a single red rose on her car windshield for her to find after work today. Or how he sometimes surprised her with breakfast in bed on Sundays.

  “Okay, I get that love means making sacrifices. But what about Luke? You’ll break his heart if you move.”

  Brooke’s heart twisted at the thought. She knew Zoey was right, but she also knew she couldn’t make her decision based on that alone. “This can’t be about me and Luke. There isn’t a ‘me and Luke’ and never has been. Not like that. We’ll miss each other, sure. But I’m going to find him a girlfriend, so he’ll be fine.”

  “That man only has eyes for you, and you know it.”

  Brooke folded her arms across her stomach. Don’t cry, don’t cry. She willed her voice to be steady when she spoke. “If he has eyes only for me, then why does he keep hooking up with Los Angeles’ finest skanks?”

  “Give him a chance. You two are so perfect together.”

  Brooke held up a trembling hand. “Stop. I can’t keep having this conversation with you.”

  A knock at the door silenced them both. “Are you expecting someone?” Zoey asked.

  Brooke shook her head. “You?”

  Zoey headed to the door. “Nope.” She looked through the peephole, then turned the deadbolt. “It’s Luke.”

  Brooke scrambled to Zoey’s side. “What?”

  Zoey flung the door open, a smile on her face. “Hey. We weren’t expecting you.”

  Luke entered the room, his face grim. He wore his Ryder Communications hoodie like he’d told her he would, but a stain covered one sleeve and most of the front.

  “I need to talk to you,” he said, shutting the door behind him.

  Zoey sat down on the couch, grinning. “Oh, this is going to be good.”

  Brooke glared at Zoey, then turned back to Luke. He stood so close she could smell the stale beer. How many had he had? “Nice hoodie. If I’d known it was stained, I would’ve told you to go with the white tee and leather jacket.”

  “Oh, the stain wasn’t there when I left the house. No, that happened when I got between Tamera and the frat boys she started a fight with.”

  Brooke’s eyes widened. “Okay, that needs an explanation.”

  “Turns out Tamera is quite competitive. And a loud and obnoxious drunk.”

  Panic bubbled up in Brooke, and she covered her mouth to hold in a horrified laugh.

  “Tamera spent the entire game yelling at the refs. When the frat boys behind us celebrated a touchdown by the opposing team, she turned crazy,” Luke said.

  “That doesn’t sound like Tamera,” Brooke said. How would this impact her plan to save Toujour? Surely he was exaggerating. “None of her other dates have given that kind of feedback.” She’d been so careful in her selection. Tamera and Luke were sixty-two percent compatible, and she’d spoken with Kendra extensively before they’d decided to set up a date between the two.

  “Maybe the paparazzi stressed her out or something, I don’t know. All I know is the date ended with me being doused in beer.”

  Zoey howled with laughter. “Good pick, Brooke.”

  He’s not drunk. Relief swept through Brooke at that knowledge. The beer was on his shirt, not his breath. She hoped. But the relief was quickly replaced with embarrassment. “I’m sorry, Luke. I had no idea. Nothing in her psychological profile or previous dates indicated this kind of behavior might occur.”

  Luke rolled back on his heels, folding his arms across his chest. “Seems to me like you picked the first girl who popped up in your database. The press will love this.”

  Brooke swallowed hard. Had she just ruined any chance Toujour had with one bad date? “I’m sorry. I’ll choose better next time.”

  “Good. Because there definitely isn’t going to be a second date with Tamera. I can’t help you save Toujour if you don’t give me women I can work with.” He spun around. “I’ll see you tomorrow.” He slammed the door, gone as quickly as he arrived.

  “What was that about?” Brooke asked Zoey.

  Zoey grinned. “Maybe you aren’t choosing as carefully as I thought. Did you know that was going to happen?”

  Brooke sighed in exasperation, plopping down on the couch. “Of course not. I’m not psychic.”

  “No. But you do know people. It looks to me like you don’t want to pick the perfect woman for Luke.”

  “Stop it. None of our clients have dated a celebrity before. I should’ve anticipated that it might bring about different results than previous dates. I’ll pick more carefully next time.”

  “Right.”

  “If you’re going to act like this, I’m going to bed.” Brooke left the room and slammed her bedroom door shut. Zoey’s laughter floated in from the living room. Brooke sank onto her bed, and couldn’t help but wonder—is Zoey right? Did I pick Tamera, knowing it wouldn’t work out? And if she did, what did that say about her feelings for Luke?

  CHAPTER SEVENTEEN

  The media was quick to report on the date. By morning, articles had flooded the Internet. Tamera was painted as a crazy drunk, whereas Luke came off as something of a hero. More than a few articles had questioned Brooke’s judgment, Toujour’s likelihood of success, and whether or not Brooke had intentionally picked a bad egg for Luke’s first date out of jealousy.

  Maybe she wasn’t as good a matchmaker as she had thought she was.

  Brooke walked into Toujour that afternoon, her stomach knotted with dread. She hadn’t slept well last night. Charlotte was sure to be furious. Brooke had no doubt a reprimand was coming.

  “She can’t possibly blame you,” Zoey whispered as they booted up their computers at their desks. “How were you supposed to know Tamera is a mean drunk?”

  “I should’ve shown better judgment,” Brooke said.

  Zoey rolled her eyes. “Yeah, you should become a mind reader too.”

  Brooke’s desk phone rang, and she answered it. A few moments later, she hung up.

  “Charlotte?” Zoey asked.

  Brooke nodded, then stood. “Well, it was nice working with you.”

  “Don’t be so dramatic.” Zoey squeezed Brooke’s hand. “You’ll be fine.”

  “I hope so.” If she got fired, then it’d make the decision to move easy at least.

  Brooke slowly walked to Charlotte’s office, taking her sweet time. No need to hurry to my execution. Half the parlours were filled with matchmakers and clients, and the rest of the matchmakers appeared to be busy at their desks, scanning the database for matches. At least business was improving, disastrous date or no. She knocked once on the door, and opened the door when Charlotte said, “Come in.”

  “Sit,” Charlotte said without looking up from her computer screen.

  Brooke sank into a chair, her back rigid. “Charlotte, I can exp—”

  Charlotte turned her computer monitor to face Brooke. “Have you read the articles?”

  Brooke nodded. There was nothing more to say.

  “This isn’t the kind of publicity I want. It makes it look like we let anyone be a client. We’re adding sparks to an already blazing fire.”

  Fuel. The phrase is “adding fuel to the
fire.” But now wasn’t the time to correct Charlotte. “I’m sure Tamera was—”

  “I will talk to Kendra about her client later,” Charlotte said. She leaned forward, elbows on her desk. “I want you to be honest with me, Brooke. Is it too hard for you to match up your best friend? Do I need to assign him another matchmaker?”

  Brooke quickly shook her head. “I don’t know what went wrong with Tamera, but I can assure you it won’t happen again. My choice had nothing to do with my friendship with Luke.”

  “I hope not,” Charlotte said. “I don’t need to remind you what’s at stake here. I want him on another date by the weekend. A better date.”

  “Of course,” Brooke said.

  Charlotte turned the computer screen back around. “Well, what are you waiting for?”

  Brooke quickly left Charlotte’s office.

  *

  Brooke spent the rest of the morning meticulously going over the files of every match the computer had populated for Luke. She had to find him a better date, and fast.

  Zoey returned from a meeting with a client and picked up her purse. “Let’s go to the café for lunch. You need a break.”

  “Agreed,” Brooke said. She locked her monitor, and they walked next door. The café was reminiscent of a French bakery. The menu was written on a chalk board in flowery script, and small two-person tables filled the front portion of the room. They took their place in line and waited to order. Brooke inhaled deeply, enjoying the smell of freshly baked bread and chocolate. She peered at the delectable assortment of pastries filling the display case. After this morning, she might order one of each.

  “Think Luke is still mad at you?” Zoey asked.

  Brooke rolled her shoulders, trying to ease the tension gathering there. “I hope not, or this is going to be a really long meeting.” She bit her lip. “Things have been so weird between us lately. I haven’t even told him about my dad’s upcoming divorce yet.”

  “Seriously?”

  Brooke nodded. “We keep fighting. I didn’t think it would be so hard to separate our friendship from a professional relationship.”

  Zoey snorted. “What professional relationship? He’s only doing this for you.”

  “He’s doing it for Toujour.”

  “Yeah. Because you love working there so much.”

  “He’s a good friend.” Brooke emphasized the word.

  They placed their orders, then selected an empty table. “How did it go with Antonio last night?” After Luke had left, Brooke had gone to Antonio’s. She’d known he’d read about the date soon enough, and figured it was better to get it all out in the open.

  Brooke clenched her receipt in her hand. “Fine.”

  “Fine?”

  “Great,” Brooke amended. Antonio had unfortunately brought up some of the same concerns the papers had, and she’d spent most of the night reassuring him she was genuinely trying to find Luke a girlfriend.

  “Don’t sound so enthusiastic.”

  “We got in a fight. Nothing major, just a misunderstanding.” She wasn’t about to give specifics. Zoey didn’t need any more ammunition for her Call Off the Wedding campaign.

  “Hmmm,” Zoey said. Brooke knew she wanted to say a lot more, but appreciated her rare show of restraint.

  Their names were called, and they quickly picked up their food, ate, and headed back to Toujour. A reporter jumped in front of them as Brooke reached to open the door. He brought a camera to his eye and quickly snapped a photo. “Miss Pierce, do you take responsibility for Mr. Ryder’s failed first date?”

  Brooke’s cheeks heated. Zoey grabbed Brooke’s arm and pushed past the reporter into the building. They quickly made their way to their cubicle.

  “This is fantastic,” Brooke said. “Just what Toujour needs.” She slammed her juice down on the desk, causing a few drops to squirt out the straw.

  A deep male voice spoke from behind. “Yeah, the reporters attacked me too. Woo-hoo.”

  Brooke jumped. “I didn’t hear you come in,” she said. “I thought Lianna would’ve told you to meet me in the parlour.”

  “I’ll try to walk louder next time.” He looked handsome as sin in a charcoal suit and deep red tie. His dedication to work was obviously sticking. “I’m meeting Mitch at the office in an hour. Will this take longer than that?”

  “That depends on how hard it is to get information out of you.” Brooke grabbed her laptop and stood. “I think the same parlour we used last time should be open.”

  He nodded and followed her to the appropriate room. She let him in, then shut the door behind them and set up her laptop. “I’m sorry your date was such a disaster,” she said.

  “Me too. I’m trying to help you, and that—” He ran a hand through his hair. “Tamera and I were never going to work, but I wanted the date to go well for the press. What if the media coverage hurts business even more?”

  Brooke’s chest tightened. “They say there’s no such thing as bad publicity. I take full responsibility for the date, and I promise to choose more wisely next time.”

  “Hey.” Luke reached forward and grasped her hand. “I didn’t mean to make you feel guilty. I was mad, but I’m over it now. It’s not your fault. No one could’ve predicted this. Is something going on that you aren’t telling me about? It isn’t like you to be so off your game.”

  Brooke sighed. “Miranda took the girls and left my dad. He has a new girlfriend. But I won’t let that distract me from making better matches for you in the future.”

  Luke squeezed her hand. “Why didn’t you tell me he was getting divorced again?”

  Brooke shrugged. “I found out at lunch on Saturday. With all this Toujour stuff, there hasn’t been time.”

  “I’m so sorry.”

  Brooke nodded and cleared her throat. “Thanks.”

  “Do you want to talk about it?”

  “No. I think I got all my ranting out during the car drive home. Antonio helped me talk through it.” She motioned to her laptop. “Right now, let’s focus on making sure your next date goes better.”

  Pain flashed across Luke’s eyes for a moment, but he nodded. “Okay then. So do I just tell you about the date or what?”

  Brooke logged into the database and pulled up Luke’s file. “I ask you specific questions about how the date went, if you’re interested in continuing the relationship—”

  “That’s a huge no.”

  “—and go from there. I’ll meet with Tamera’s matchmaker later today to compare results.”

  Luke folded his arms across his chest and crossed his feet at the ankles in front of him. Brooke tried not to stare at his long legs. “What’s the first question?”

  Brooke glanced at the questionnaire. “On a scale of one to ten, ten being the highest, how would you rate your physical attraction to Tamera?”

  “That depends on if we’re talking about the beginning of the date or the end.”

  “There’s a difference?”

  “She was super hot until she opened her mouth. Some men might think a girl screaming at refs for three hours is attractive, but not me.”

  “Okay, can you assign a number value to her?”

  “If I’m totally wasted and she doesn’t open her mouth, I’d dance with her at a club.”

  This is going well. Brooke typed in a “3” and moved on to the next question. “What do you feel was the best part of your date?”

  “This crap is really supposed to help someone find their soul mate?”

  Brooke sighed. “Remember what I said about this taking longer if you don’t cooperate?”

  “Let me make it simple. There isn’t going to be a second date. The whole afternoon was a train wreck.” His mouth quirked. “It’s kind of funny, now that I think about it. But it definitely wasn’t at the time.”

  “Okay, let’s try this. Tell me about the date, and I’ll fill in the answers as best I can.”

  So Luke told her, and Brooke’s cheeks heated with every word he uttered. �
�You must think I’m the worst matchmaker in the world.”

  “I know how you can make it up to me.” Luke leaned forward and grinned, making his dimple pop.

  Brooke would’ve called Luke on breaking Rule #15 if she didn’t feel so bad. “I never pegged Tamera as a nervous drinker.”

  “In hindsight, I shouldn’t have bought her two beers. But how was I supposed to know she couldn’t hold her alcohol?”

  “This doesn’t make sense. Kendra described Tamera so differently from how you’re describing her, and nothing in her file matches up with what you’re telling me.” Brooke tapped her finger against the space bar on her laptop. “I think the difference is you. Our clients have never dated a celebrity before, and celebrities tend to bring out a different side in people.”

  Luke rubbed a hand over his face. “That’s what I’m afraid of. I don’t want someone who treats me like a celebrity. I want someone who treats me like a regular Joe, like you do.”

  Brooke laughed. “Maybe I’ll have to go back in time and find someone who knew you when you were an obnoxious sixteen-year-old, before you were rich and famous. I’ll work on it.”

  Luke moved from his seat to the arm of Brooke’s chair. He wrapped an arm around her shoulder, resting his chin on the top of her head. “What a disaster.”

  Brooke squirmed out of his grip. “At least the papers painted you a hero. Tamera’s the one who comes off looking like an idiot. Well, and me.”

  “Hey now, the papers only said that you were my matchmaker.”

  “Yeah. The failed date is my fault.”

  “Don’t talk like that.”

  “I’ll find you the perfect girl. Promise.”

  He held her eyes. “I’m not sure you can find someone who will measure up to you.”

  Brooke’s breath caught in her throat, and she wondered if his lips tasted like the spearmint mouthwash he used. She stood quickly. She was losing her mind. “I think I can fill out the questionnaire based on what you’ve given me. You can leave now. I would hate to be the reason Luke Ryder takes another sick day.”

  “I’ll take a sick day with you anytime.” He wrapped her in a tight hug.