The Matchmakers

by Jennifer Colgan

  `Seen what?´ `Fine. Fine. Are we done here? I mean, are you done here?Śhe reappeared. `Yes.´ `Then let’s go.´ `Go where?´ `Home.´ `Your place?´ Her hopeful tone made his last drink settle in the pit of his stomach like a rock. `How about your place?´ `I don’t actually have a place. Being temporarily banished and all.Śhe looked downcast for a moment. `So where do you go when you µpop’?´ `Somewhere else.´ `Where else?´ `Anywhere. Sometimes I just turn invisible, but I’m still around. Like today at the construction site.´ Nick raised his eyes heavenward. He didn’t like the direction the conversation was taking. `You mean you don’t have an apartment or anything?´ `Nope. I don’t usually need one.´ `Where do you sleep?Śhe shrugged. `I don’t. Usually. Contrary to popular belief, faeries don’t spend all their time lounging around in flowerbeds and napping on toadstools you know. We’re usually too busy to sleep.´ `Right. Where did you go last night?´ Why did he ask when he didn’t want to know the answer? `Your place. After you fell asleep. I watched the Food Channel most of the night.Śhe began ticking off titles on her fingers. `The History of Garlic, The Idaho Potato Festival, Great Chefs of the Ukraine«´ `You spent the night on my couch?´ `I’m not allowed back in the Faerie realm until I’ve finished my task. What? You have that look again.´ `What look?´ He tried not to glare but found it damn near impossible. `Like you have something caught in your throat. Your eyes are bugging out a little.´ Nick chewed the inside of his cheek in an effort to stay calm. It felt more like his throat was caught in something, like a noose. A small, sarcastic part of his brain suggested taking her back to his place, but his more logical self recognized the inherent badness of that idea. At the very least, it wouldn’t look good on the police report. Yes, Officer, I invited her to stay with me despite my overwhelming suspicion that she was completely insane . `Come on,´ he said, whirling around toward the driver’s side of his truck. She clapped her hands and hurried to the passenger door. `Great! Now we can brainstorm all night.Ćhapter Nine Nick said little as they pulled out of Farley’s parking lot and headed back into town. He kept his eyes on the road and tapped his fingers impatiently on the steering wheel at every red light. `Okay, maybe not all night,Ćallie offered after ten miles of awkward silence. He hadn’t even turned on the radio this time. When he didn’t respond, she peered sidelong at him. `I’m sorry I didn’t tell you I stayed at your place last night. I promise I didn’t snoop around.´ `No problem,´ he said finally. The set of his jaw said otherwise. A muscle twitched just below his temple. `I’m very quiet most of the time. You won’t even know I’m there. And for breakfast I can make garlic crepes. I learned how last night.´ `I like my eggs scrambled, hold the garlic, thanks, but that’s beside the point. Here we are.´ The glowing neon sign for the Minuteman Motel had a short in the L, which caused it to blink in time to the hot pink letters of the word VACANCY. Callie’s spirits plummeted, and she berated herself for thinking she’d gotten through to Nick so easily. `It’s not a bad place. The rooms are cheap and fairly clean. I stayed here a couple nights when I first got into town.´ He kept his gaze on the dashboard as though he couldn’t even bear to look at her. She opened the passenger door and climbed out, holding her head high. `Thanks for the ride.´ `Do you have some cash?´ He looked embarrassed by the question, and Callie was glad of it. `I’m a Fae, Nick. We’re all independently wealthy.´ He obviously didn’t believe that. She shut the passenger door as he shifted in his seat and dug his wallet out of the back of his jeans. `Come on. I’ll pay for your room. This place really isn’t all that bad.´ `Who are you trying to convince?´ He ignored her pointed question and held out some rumpled twenties. She glared at the bills but didn’t take them. `I don’t need money, Nick.´ `Look, why don’t I come by tomorrow and we’ll talk about this some more. We can come up with a better plan for«you know, this matchmaking thing. No more flat tires, okay?´ `Sure.´ `Okay.´ He dropped the bills on the passenger seat and tried to catch her eye, but she wouldn’t meet his gaze. `How’s nine? I’ll buy breakfast.´ `Fine.Śhe turned away from the truck and started toward the brightly lit motel office where a balding man stood sipping from a can of root beer. `I’ll see you then,´ Nick called. `Fine.´ `Good night.´ `Good night, Nick.´ Nick hated himself for not waiting while Callie went into the motel office. He hated himself for not hanging around and making sure she got a decent room. He despised himself for pulling back into the motel parking lot after three fruitless trips around the block while he called himself vile names and questioned his intelligence. He swore as the truck careened into the first parking space, barely missing the neon yellow buffer pole that protected the brick wall of the office from fender scrapes. The engine sputtered and the flywheel screeched a little as he yanked the keys out of the ignition. Inside the office, the night manager, Carl Rogers, looked up from his chilidog and root beer dinner as Nick vaulted out of the truck. Carl shoved his horn-rimmed glasses higher on his long nose and pushed his half-finished dinner aside as Nick swung the office door open. `Hey, Nick.´ `Hey, Carl.´ Nick wasn’t sure what to say next. Should he ask for Callie’s room number? Demand it? Get back in the truck and go home? Second guessing himself had never been one of his hobbies. From the day he’d packed his bags and walked down the winding, oak-lined driveway of his father’s house in Lafayette, he’d never questioned his own decisions. If he couldn’t please the old man with his plans and dreams, he’d just please himself. He’d run on autopilot for the past decade, letting the wind guide him wherever it wanted him to go, answering to no higher authority than his own whims. Sure, he had regrets now and then. He’d often wished he’d left Tijuana sooner rather than later, and he still daydreamed about the red Mercedes coupe he could’ve picked up for a song at that dealership in Tuskegee. If it hadn’t been for the bullet holes in the driver’s side door, that car would’ve been his baby. He might have called his mother more, but her questions were always the same. When are you coming back home to start a real life? When are you going to settle down? Live and learn. Nick had lived, and he thought by now he’d have learned to trust his instincts. Why then, when his instincts said to put as much distance between himself and Callie as possible, did he find himself back at the motel feeling lower than dirt for leaving her here? Just what did he think he owed this girl, anyway? What if Carl had put her in room nine with the leaking toilet and the faulty lock on the bathroom window? Carl always gave out-of-towners that room. What if some drunk knocked on her door in the middle of the night? `Damn.´ He kept up the litany of recriminations in his head as he approached Carl’s faded linoleum counter. `How’s it going, Carl?´ `Pretty good. Quiet night.´ `Yeah«uh. Did a girl come in here earlier? Pink coat, long brown hair?´ `Callie?´ `Yeah, that’s her.´ `Yep. She said she was a friend of yours.´ Nick nodded. `Can you tell me what room she’s in?´ `Normally I wouldn’t, her being a girl alone and all. But for you, Nick, and since she said she knows you«Ćarl made a show of checking the guest book, as if it might be hard to recall a number from one to ten. `She’s in five.´ `Thanks.´ Nick left the office and crossed the parking lot to room five. The thick privacy drapes blocked any light from the room, but he heard the television through the door. At least he didn’t have to feel bad about waking her up, on top of everything else he felt bad about. He knocked and waited a full three seconds before he did it again. `Callie? It’s me«Nick.Áfter a moment, the door opened a crack, and she peered out at him through the links of the brass security chain. `Is it nine already?´ Her impertinent tone should have irritated him. Instead he noticed immediately that the smudge of grease was gone from her cheek. `Can I come in?´ `What for?´ `To talk. I’m sorry I dumped you here.´ `It’s all right. I know you don’t feel comfortable letting me stay with you. I understand. Besides, this place really isn’t too bad, now that I’ve done some redecorating to make it more homey.´ Nick laughed, but his amusement died when she unlatched the security chain and let him inside. He looked around in stunned silence. When she said she’d redecorated, she wasn’t kidding. Callie stepped back to
allow Nick over the threshold of her temporary home. The look on his face was priceless. Maybe now he’d start to believe she was telling the truth. `Uh«´ His comment died unspoken. His gaze bounced from the sectional sofa and forty-two-inch plasma screen TV to the brushed chrome kitchenette and the landscaped, jungle-themed Jacuzzi tub. She’d considered making it all go away before she let him inside, but for one thing, she couldn’t bear to go back to looking at the dingy brown carpeting and the mold-colored spreads that had covered the sagging twin beds in room five. For another thing, if there existed the slightest chance her banishment from the Faerie realm would end up being permanent, she wanted to take full advantage of her Fae abilities while she still had them. `You’ve been here thirty minutes,´ Nick managed after gaining control of his sagging jaw. `This took me five.´ Just as Callie predicted, Nick’s gaze returned to the big screen TV and lingered there. Men. `There’s a Die Hard marathon on channel seventy-two. Can I get you some popcorn?śhe asked, drumming her fingers on her hips. `I’m not seeing this.´ He shook his head, but never took his eyes off the TV. `I’m not seeing this.´ `What exactly is the barrier here, Nick? Why won’t you trust me?´ He finally tore his gaze away from a battered and bloody Bruce Willis and gave her an incredulous look. `I’m not one of those people.´ `What people?´ `The ones who believe in faeries and leprechauns and little green men.Ćallie snagged the remote from the end table she’d conjured and shut off the television. `I don’t know any little green men, but I can arrange to fly in a leprechaun if that would help convince you that I’m telling you the truth about everything.´ `Come on.´ `Say the word, and I’ll have Seamus O’Malley here before sunrise.Śhe used the remote to gesture to the luxury suite she’d created in room five. `What else do I have to do?´ His upper lip curled in a devilish smirk that served to remind Callie of all the reasons Freya had chosen Nick Garrett as her punishment. She braced for what she knew was coming.