“Emily.” Grant stood and smiled, putting out his hand for her to shake, even though it felt awkward and wrong. “A matchmaker. How did I not see that coming?” He chuckled. At one time, it would have been right up her alley, but who made a living introducing people?
Emily looked amazing. Grant hadn’t seen her since high school graduation, though at the time, they hadn’t hugged their congratulations, hadn’t shared a conversation or a high five or even a polite nod. A far cry from the friendship they’d developed freshman year of high school. They’d written notes in math class; the battered spiral he’d kept was his half of their ongoing conversation that quickly filled three-quarters of his notebook. He’d fallen hard for her, and then, when they’d come back after spring break, she was gone. She hadn’t moved houses or switched schools; she’d simply quit responding. Leaning back in her chair away from him, pointedly ignoring when he sat sideways writing notes to her on the notebook balanced in his lap. Her one-hundred-eighty-degree turnaround boggled his mind more than the quadratic equation.
Yet here she was, standing in front of him.
He couldn’t let on that freshman algebra was stuck in his mind after all this time. He had to at least appear to have moved on. “You never left Eureka Springs?” He didn’t mean it as an insult or to insinuate that she hadn’t accomplished anything in her life. Admittedly, he hadn’t known her well after their falling-out, but she’d given the impression that she would be off to some Ivy League school, Hollywood, or Wall Street—somewhere. He’d never pegged her as the hometown girl, but it fit. And it wasn’t the cut-down some people would think.
“And you came back?” she teased. At least she didn’t seem to have taken offense. She chuckled. “Yes, I stayed. My dad—who is a huge Cruise Donnelly fan, by the way, huge—still lives here. I couldn’t leave.” Her tone revealed the soft spot in her heart.
At the mention of her father, a fuzzy image of Henry Wood’s face came to mind. “How is he?”
“Good.” Her eyes lit up, and he could see how much she adored him. “Remember that old haunted hotel on Spring Street?”
“The Highbury Hotel?” What did that have to do with her dad?
She nodded, mirth in her light laugh. “Since they can’t do any extensive remodeling on any of the downtown buildings, it made sense to turn it into independent senior living. Every resident gets their own room and eats down in the dining room. Older residents don’t seem to mind sharing their space with those who’ve already passed on.” She hugged her arms around her middle and pretended to shiver, but her smile gave her away. She wasn’t buying the legends about ghosts inhabiting the building. “Dad’s perfectly healthy and doesn’t want me to take care of him, but he doesn’t want to be on his own either.” She raised an eyebrow at him. “That, and I think he likes his dominoes too much.”
“Dominoes?” Now that wasn’t what he’d expected of ex-military intelligence.
“The hotel’s main floor has become a sort of senior center. They hold weekly card games, bingo, dominoes . . .”
He pulled his face into a frown and nodded. “Makes sense.” Grant wasn’t actually thinking about Mr. Wood anymore. He was dying to know how Emily made a living working as a matchmaker in Eureka Springs, but he wasn’t sure how to bring that up without making it sound like he was judging her. “So you didn’t leave, and I came back, and now you’re going to be my . . .” He couldn’t bring himself to say it.
“I’m the executive director of the chamber of commerce,” she explained.
Ah. Now that sounded like a real job. “You always did love this town and its . . . idiosyncrasies.”
“What, like the fact that there’s one street with seven different names?”
He laughed. “Exactly.”
“It’s so much fun having people come into my office complaining about that. Or that a crazy percentage of buildings—commercial and residential—in town have more than one address?”
“And yet people love it.” One of the fun facts he’d always liked about his hometown.
“Yes, they do.” She chose a seat, but rather than facing the breathtaking view, she looked at him. “It’s something in the water. Always has been.”
“The magical Eureka Springs—the Fountain of Youth.” He smiled at the joke. Legends about the spring’s healing qualities had first brought people to town, but since then, the water had been found to be contaminated. “That explains you in Eureka Springs, but matchmaking?”
“Oh, that’s easy.” She waved a hand through the air, and he noticed she wasn’t wearing a ring. Hadn’t he heard that she and her high school boyfriend had married within a couple years of graduation? “I’ve always had a penchant for making matches. You remember Miss Taylor, my cheer coach, right? And the chemistry teacher, Mr. Weston?” She leaned forward, hands flat on her thighs, all the excitement of a best friend sharing her triumphs as if the intervening thirteen or fourteen years hadn’t happened.
“I do. Their rooms were right next to each other, weren’t they? We had just enough time for one hand of spades after Weston’s class and still be in our seats in English before the bell rang.” He’d liked Miss Taylor. She’d encouraged his writing, but she’d also been the one to encourage him to find other interests to share with his classmates. “What about them?” He narrowed his eyes at her, guessing what she was about to say, but not sure he was going to like it.
“They got married last weekend.” She sat up straighter. “And I set them up.”
She couldn’t possibly be taking credit for that. Not when everyone in the school whispered about there being more chemistry than classwork going on in Mr. Weston’s classroom. Anyone could see the way they looked at each other.
“Are you sure that wasn’t just a lucky guess?” And one everyone had already made? He was surprised it had taken a decade plus, but better late than never. “If you’re counting it as your personal success, you had a hand in it?”
“I absolutely did. Just ask Miss Taylor—I guess I should call her Mrs. Weston now,” she corrected herself. “Oh, and I set up a new shop owner, a widower who came to retire here. He does stained glass. Anyway, I knew he’d be perfect with Angie Lucchesi. They’re the cutest couple I’ve seen over sixty, and he proposed a few months ago.”
Emily was clearly pleased with herself, but her hubris scared him.
“Then there’s Hattie Smith. Did you know her? She’s a couple years younger than we are.” She shook her head. “Anyway, I’m trying to set her up with this guy I met, Luca, because I just hate to see her pining after Martin Merrick—you remember him, don’t you? They were fine for a while, and she was ready to make a commitment, and he was all hot and cold. He would take her out, they’d have a good time, and then he’d be too busy for weeks. How busy could he really be? He drives the trolley for a living. It’s not like he’s out of town on business trips. Seems to me he was trying to say he wasn’t that interested.”
Grant might have agreed with the assessment that the guy wasn’t that into her friend, but he hadn’t seen anything first hand. From what he could tell of Emily’s friend and the Martin he remembered, they could be as compatible as any other couple.
“You might have made a few good matches, but—” He shook his head, more trying to get her goat than anything else. “I seem to remember one or two matchmaking mishaps.” He challenged her with a raised brow. He wouldn’t have to name names for her to get his point, though to be fair, relationships that didn’t work out in early high school weren’t exactly her fault. “Martin’s a good guy, and while I don’t know Hattie, she might have found a good one in him.” There was no way around it: he would be on his guard when she went to fix him up. “So how does this matchmaking thing work? You hand me a list of available women’s contact info, and we call it good?”
Even something that simple would be excruciating. He didn’t have time to sift through a long list, wasn’t into the whole blind date idea, and when it came down to it, wasn’t exactly inte
rested in dating at all.
“The fact that I know you will help.” She pulled a loose sheet of paper out of her bag and waved it in the air. “I’d expected to have to fill out this questionnaire to get to know you—” She stopped, squinted her eyes at him, and then apparently changed her mind. “I don’t think it’ll be necessary.” She put it back into her bag and then dropped it with a thud, staring as if she could see right through him.
He could guarantee that she didn’t know him as well as she thought she did. “Okay. You think you know me? Of the people we knew in high school, who would you set me up with today? Not that I’m interested in anyone from back then, but name someone we both know, so I can get a feel for the kind of person you think I’d fall for.”
He gulped. He hadn’t meant to use that phrase. For a writer, he was being awfully sloppy with his words. This wasn’t about finding love; this was about finding a date.
“Ooh! I’ll play.” She groped around inside her bag for a moment before pulling out her phone. “Facebook.” All he saw was the blur of a pink-and-gold-striped phone case. She tapped and swiped at the screen until she must have found the list of her friends, because updates came quickly. “Lauren is married. So are Sarah and Erin . . . well, and Lainey and Hannah.” The enthusiasm in her voice slowed until it stopped, like a spigot being turned off.
“Pretend they’re not. It’s not as if you’re actually going to set us up.”
“Okay.” She scrolled down, pausing for several seconds. “Maybe Hannah Sabey.”
Hannah was a nice person, sure, and she’d been the exact kind of person he should have asked out back in the day, but she had also been obsessed with cosplay and drawing anime, and not at all the kind of woman he had anything in common with now. He couldn’t imagine keeping up a conversation all evening, and picturing her at the grand opening didn’t jibe with his memory of her. Assuming she hadn’t changed, she’d be too introverted to speak to anyone—which wasn’t fair, because his whole point was that he had changed. Still, he needed someone confident, sunny, happy.
He grimaced. “That is why this—” He motioned between them. “—won’t work. You see me how everyone saw me back then. If I’m going to work with a matchmaker, I need someone unbiased. I told Annalise matchmaking wasn’t a viable option.”
Emily’s hands shot out in front of her as if to stop him, though he hadn’t made a move to stand. “Wait. You’re right. That was you then.” She pressed her lips together and, with a faraway look, scrolled through her friends list again. “What do I know about Grantham Robbins?” she murmured to herself.
More scrolling. If she was going to concentrate on his public persona, this next suggestion would be just as much of a fail, but he was intrigued to see who she’d recommend.
“Okay. I have her.” Emily’s eyes sparkled as she flipped her phone around to present a picture. “Audrey Lau.”
Wow, the woman hadn’t aged. And if she had, it was only in the best ways. Audrey looked good—probably wasn’t single even if she wasn’t married—but nowhere near his type. She looked exactly like the women he’d been in the tabloid photos with: too much makeup, perfect hair and clothes, absolutely no interest in him. Nope. He wanted someone—well, sincere. Someone he could connect with. “When you picked Audrey, were you thinking she’d be a good match for me or Cruise Donnelly?”
Emily’s eyes widened for half a second, and he had his answer. He might be making this whole idea of matchmaking more difficult on her than he needed to, but he wanted her to see his point.
With a crisp flick of her hand, she tucked her phone back in her bag. “How about this: We’re going to start with a group thing—my friend group.”
That was the Emily he remembered, never one to concede a challenge, but if her friend group was the same cluster of popular people she’d associated with in high school, he wasn’t interested.
“You probably won’t recognize anyone except me,” she continued, “but it’s super chill. No one is dating anyone. Just a group of people hanging out.”
Relieved to start with a clean slate, Grant considered the invitation. He could stand to hang out with a few people if he was going to be here a while. He didn’t mind the fact that he wouldn’t know anyone but Emily—and she’d specifically said there wasn’t anyone dating, so did that mean she was single? Hope swelled in his chest. “What happened to Dixon?”
“Nothing.” Her breezy attitude surprised him. Was that a defense mechanism, or was she completely over him? “He’s still around someplace.” She waved her hand through the air as if dismissing him. “Though I have to say I’m glad I didn’t marry him.”
He felt as if sunbeams were streaming through his window, warming him, but he didn’t want to think about why that might be. Probably the fact that this person who had once been his confidant was back in his life, and it wasn’t awkward. He’d take that as a win. Closure was a good thing. If he was lucky, he’d get a little more of that during his time in Eureka Springs. It wasn’t a bad place, he wasn’t that same weird kid he’d once been, and no one else would be worried about it. Time had a way of burying uncomfortable memories, and he’d let them fall by the wayside.
“It was great to see you again, Emily.” He stood and waited for her to do so as well. He needed to get back to work. “Have Annalise put it on my schedule.”
“Of course.” Emily’s smile was exactly how he remembered her in ninth grade. “I’ll see you soon, Grant.”
“Looking forward to it,” he said, and he was surprised to find that might actually be true.
He closed the door and walked back to his chair. He settled his laptop back into position, but couldn’t settle his mind. Emily’s appearance had left him in a wake of emotion—shock, confusion, disappointment, skepticism, doubt, but also happy things. Hope, interest, and the spark of something else. Focusing on the positive, he closed his eyes and forced his mind to recall the scene he’d been working on. With the last wisps of Emily’s perfume came the seeds of a character. Maybe Cruise Donnelly’s love interest wouldn’t be as difficult to picture this time around.
5
When Emily had driven up to the security booth at the entrance of The Cove that morning, she’d been thrilled to have an opportunity to see the new, exclusive lake neighborhood, and truth be told, it exceeded anything she could have imagined. Why wasn’t the developer touting the lake community’s amenities and the quality and diversity of the homes in the neighborhood? A parade of homes would sell a bunch of tickets. Maybe she could fill her chamber of commerce hole with that. Unless, of course, seclusion and security were the goal. She’d had an easier time crossing the border from Mexico back into the US than passing through these iron gates.
If she’d known she was going to see the famous Grantham Robbins, she would have been beyond nervous and hid away the complete collection of his hardbacks on a prominent bookshelf in her living room, in case he could see through her and somehow just . . . know. She also might have chickened out. Guilt that she’d allowed their friendship to die weighed heavy upon her shoulders. He’d been such a good guy, and yet, when her friends pressured her, she’d convinced herself she and Grant had nothing in common. She’d been foolish, ridiculous, proud.
After she pulled away from the high school cliques and broke up with Dixon, she looked back on it, regretting her behavior and having no way to make it up to him. Now was her chance to fix it. She’d been given an opportunity for redemption, a chance to do something nice for him, and she was ready to embrace it.
At least he wasn’t creepy. Emily chuckled softly to herself after he closed the door to his writing cabin behind her. She still couldn’t get over that one either. Who had their own house just for writing next to a gargantuan mansion full of rooms? She shook her head. Some things were completely different about Grant—he had a personal assistant, for goodness’ sake—but so much of him was exactly the same. He hadn’t lost his quick wit, his sense of humor, or the sparkle in his eye when he was te
asing her. He’d probably changed a lot in ten years, but the Grant she’d known would want a hideout from the world, a place to separate himself from distractions and interruptions. It made sense. Besides, most people left their homes for work.
In no hurry to leave, Emily lingered along the path back to the mansion and mentally sifted through what she’d learned. Grant Robbins would be easy to set up. He had his quirks, but the right woman for him was definitely out there. There was a lot of good to work with. Even the two-month time frame shouldn’t be impossible unless he was picky or looking for true love.
The biggest challenge was finding the person who could see past their preconceived notions of who Grantham Robbins the author was—which could be either too good or too bad. There would be the locals who couldn’t see past “Geeky Gran-Gran,” the boy who knew everything and yet wouldn’t speak up in class unless asked a direct question. His encyclopedic knowledge and questioning manner had served him well in his career, and he’d obviously found his voice. As long as Grant didn’t carry around too much emotional baggage and she could find someone willing to allow that people grew and changed, she could potentially set him up with someone he’d known in school.
If he didn’t click with someone he already knew, they’d have to contend with the flip side of her concerns—a bestselling novelist with seven books, almost as many major motion pictures, and so many escape rooms across the globe that even the website couldn’t keep up with the ever-expanding number. Making it to at least one of the escape rooms had long been on her bucket list. With the closest ones in Dallas and Atlanta, she hadn’t made it yet, but maybe she could convince him to build one in Eureka Springs.
The sound of approaching footsteps brought Emily back to the present.
“How was your visit?” Annalise met her on the path. “Did you get what you need to find him a match?”
The Matchmaker's Billionaire (Billionaire Bachelor Mountain Cove Book 2) Page 4