Imperfect Match

by Melanie Harlow

  “Is he going to cook for you again?”

  I sigh heavily, recalling the accidentally blackened chicken and mushy, overcooked pasta he’d made the other night. “Let’s hope not. I’ve changed my mind about him learning to cook.”

  “Was it that bad?”

  “Worse,” I confirm. “He was a terrible student and barely tried. I’ve decided I’ll make the meals from now on, and he can take me out to dinner occasionally.” I grab my phone and shoot him a quick text.

  * * *

  Me: Dinner still? Any ideas?

  * * *

  Reid: I’m in the mood for pizza.

  * * *

  Me: Sounds good. Where do you want to go?

  * * *

  Reid: Lou’s or Pequod’s ... you pick.

  Like there’s even a question of that. We both know who my favorite always has been and always will be.

  Me: Is that even a choice?

  * * *

  Reid: I wanted to see if now that I’ve injected you with my essence you’ve come to the right side of the debate.

  * * *

  Oh my God. He’s insane. But I still have to laugh.

  * * *

  Me: Your essence? Are you drunk?

  * * *

  Reid: What one of these words would you prefer? Junk, spirit of Reid, cream of king, juice of the ginormous rod, sperm of sex god, or maybe just my king’s cum?

  * * *

  Me: I have no words for you. I’ll meet you at Lou’s where I’m sure you’ll have come up with another hundred of these.

  * * *

  Reid: I’d aim higher, sweetheart. I’ll see you around six.

  * * *

  I sit back, looking at the phone and grinning. He’s such an idiot. A very lovable one that has turned my last two weeks upside down. Each time I think, okay, today he’s going to piss me off or be bored of me, he’s not. We click, just like we always have, but now we click in the bedroom too.

  “We’re going to get pizza at Lou Malnati’s,” I tell my sister. My stomach does somersaults thinking about spending the whole evening with him. We’ve both been so busy the last few weeks, we haven’t had any real time together in days.

  The last week has been especially, insanely, stressful. Reid is closing the deal on a new account at work and hasn’t been leaving the office until about ten at night. Mom is working on a plan to assign the business over to my sister and me, and keeps us both here late.

  While I would love to have full ownership, I have to admit that Aspen is a great addition. She’s a lunatic, but has a knack for matchmaking that I can’t deny.

  “Can I come?” she asks.

  “No, you can’t come on my date,” I huff.

  “Why not? It’s not like I’m going to lick him.”

  I’m not even sure what that freaking means. “That’s reassuring, Aspen, but I haven’t really seen Reid much and I’d like some time with him.”

  “I see, you have a hard time sharing your toys with others.”

  “No, I have a hard time not having you committed to the loony bin.”

  She shrugs and picks at the dead berries that she’s sewn into her skirt. “Commitment isn’t an issue for me.”

  “Just fashion then?”

  Aspen sticks her tongue out at me. “Mock all you want, but my entire wardrobe cost what your blouse did.”

  That’s not a bad thing. “If you’re happy, sis, I’m happy.”

  “Good.” She leans back in the chair. “Hey, did you ever call back that doctor?”

  “Call what doctor back?”

  “The one that called yesterday and was saying you had an appointment for tomorrow?”

  I have no clue what she’s talking about. Unlike my sister, I have everything documented and organized. My calendar gives all planning people an orgasm with how coordinated it is. Not wanting to stick my foot in my mouth, I open it up and look through. Nope, nothing for tomorrow other than I need to call and have my car serviced. Yes, I’m that thorough that I have a reminder to make an appointment.

  “I seriously don’t know what you mean.”

  “I wrote it down somewhere on your desk,” she says as she gets up.

  Aspen starts riffling through what was a very streamlined workstation, tossing papers around. I swear, I’m going to have hives if she keeps this up. “Are you trying to kill me?” I ask.

  “Just close your eyes until I find it.”

  Knowing that she will just keep going, I do what she says.

  “Aha!” she exclaims. “Found it!”

  I groan, knowing that my desk is in total disarray. “Let me see.”

  Sure enough, when I open my eyes, my assumption is proven correct. Still, I grab the half sheet of a Post-It note with her scribble written: fert clin conf call them 2 ch/can

  I frown at the message. “What on earth is this? It makes no sense.”

  “Yes, it does.” She points at each hastily scrawled word. “Fertility clinic. Called to confirm. Call them if you need to change anything or cancel the appointment.”

  Fertility clinic! Immediately, I realize what happened—I deleted the appointment from my calendar, but I forgot to actually call the clinic and cancel it. My brain has been in new relationship mode for weeks. All I’ve thought about is hearts and unicorns and Reid’s naked body in my bed.

  “So what’s the scoop? Are you going to the appointment?”

  “I don’t know.” My heart is racing, and I feel backed into a corner.

  I made this appointment months ago, before Reid and I were together. And I waited a long time to get in with this clinic because they’re the best in Chicago. Should I cancel it? Or should I go?

  Arguments on both sides start to battle it out in my brain.

  I still want a baby. I’ve always wanted a baby and being with Reid hasn’t changed that fact, has it?

  But I know Reid doesn’t want kids. He’s made that clear and after learning about his family, I understand his position, but that doesn’t really change mine.

  A family is the one thing I’ve always wanted, in the depths of my soul. Being a mom, loving another, carrying a baby, and all that comes with that has been my dream. He wouldn’t ask me to give up my dream, would he?

  Maybe I should just go to the appointment, hear what they have to say, and decide later what to do. Going doesn’t mean I have to do it, right?

  But Reid will hate the idea. He’s always hated it. And I can’t keep this from him—I don’t want us to have secrets. Should I try to talk to him first?

  “What’s going on with you?” Aspen asks, giving me the side eye. “Your aura is doing very strange things.”

  “I’m thinking.”

  “About nuclear disarmament?”

  “About Reid.”

  She nods her head with a sad smile and then touches my shoulder. “You just went from a lovely shade of gold to very blue, my sweet sister. Don’t worry so much, you’ll find the right answers, you always do.”

  I wish I could be so optimistic. “I don’t know, Aspen …”

  “Talk to me. Maybe I can help.”

  I look at my loopy sister and figure I might as well confide in her. Maybe the universe will communicate the right answers in her voice somehow. “You know how I’ve been thinking about having a baby on my own?”

  “Yes.”

  “Well, now that I’m with Reid, I’m rethinking it.”

  “Because he doesn’t want kids?”

  I nod. “He’s been nothing but honest about it.”

  “He also hasn’t been in love like this before.”

  Maybe that’s true, but I’m not naïve enough to believe that this profound love he’s got with me is going to change anything this fast. It wouldn’t be fair of me to think that either. “I don’t think that he’s suddenly going to want kids just because we’re together.”

  “But he knows you want them, right?”

  “Yes. He’s been listening to me talk about it for months.”
/>   “So it should come as no surprise to him that you would still want to look into things.”

  “I guess not.”

  “You won’t know unless you ask him.”

  I take a deep breath and blurt out what I fear. “What if his answer isn’t the one I’m hoping for? What if my convictions about family are a deal breaker for him?”

  Aspen looks sympathetic. “I don’t know, Wills. All I know is that if you don’t talk to him, then you’re going to make up these theories in your mind, ones that are possibly, maybe even probably wrong, and then find yourself all screwed in the head over something you don’t even know is true.”

  For once, my sister is actually making some valid points. “I’ll talk to him.”

  “Good.” She smiles and heads toward the door before stopping. “Oh! Also, when you want to talk about something important like changing his entire life views on marriage and babies, it helps if you’re completely naked. Men are much less likely to object when there are boobs in their face.”

  And then she says something like that and I’m reminded that my sister is a nutjob.

  “I’ll take that under advisement.”

  She nods once. “Trust me on that one.”

  I lean back in my chair, thinking about what she said and praying that tonight, maybe I can approach it and he’ll still be as supportive as he was before I fell in love with him.

  If not, I might just try Aspen’s approach.

  Twenty

  Reid

  “Are you staying at Willow’s again tonight?” my brother asks.

  “Are you staying here rent-free again tonight?”

  “You can kick me out, but who would make sure the food gets eaten?”

  I wonder most days if I’m not just enabling him, but then I remember that he’s my brother and while my childhood sucked, his was worse.

  “Yeah, eating the food is definitely an issue. It’s a good thing I’ve got a mooch of a brother to take care of that for me.

  Leo nods and then his arms go up. “Thank you for finally seeing it.”

  “Yeah, I see something all right. While you’re eating leftover Chinese food, I’ll be at dinner with my girlfriend and then eating her for dessert.”

  I leave that last one on because since Leo’s girlfriend dumped him, he’s been in one hell of a dry spell. He flips me off. “Asshole.”

  Damn straight I am. “You working tonight?”

  His eyes shift around the room, not focusing on me. “No, I’m off. I’m ... umm ... I’m actually …”

  This can’t be good. The only time my brother stutters or has an issue forming sentences is when family is involved and whenever family is involved, I want to kill someone.

  “What did Mom do this time?”

  A sense of relief washes over him and he relaxes since he doesn’t have to spell it out for me. “She’s in rehab again.”

  “Oh, good, what do they say? Thirtieth time is the charm?”

  “Reid.”

  As soon as he says my name like that, filled with disappointment and sympathy, my anger flares. Because he’s not sympathetic to me—no, it’s to her. It’s to the mother that abandoned her kids to a revolving door of nannies and the monster that my father was. But Leo holds her as the victim and because I won’t play their game anymore, I’m the bastard.

  I’ve been killing myself to make sure my brother can find a way around the hell they’ve created, but one phone call and he’s thrown right back in time. They’re so selfish and unwilling to accept their issues. She’s not in rehab because she wants to be better. She’s in rehab so my father is forced to give her an ounce of attention. It’s the same thing over and over.

  Secrets and lies that keep manifesting in new forms, but always the same results. I’m done.

  I’ve been done, but then Leo goes running back and it takes months for him to detach again. This is enough. “No, fuck that, Leo, you can’t keep making excuses for her and thinking she’s going to change. There is no change in that goddamn house. Mom will drink her feelings away while Dad fucks the secretary, maid, or whoever he can get his dick in.”

  “She’s sick.”

  “No shit! They’re all sick. They use each other and you in this game they play. You think Dad gives a fuck if she gets sober? No. Because then she might actually care about what he does at night when she’s passed out drunk. If she cared about you at all, she’d let you go on with your life.”

  Leo gets to his feet and I wonder if he’s going to deck me. “You know, Reid, you may have been stronger than me to walk away, but she’s still our mother. She needs someone to fucking love her.”

  “And you and I didn’t?”

  “Yeah, we did and they failed us, but we’re not kids anymore.”

  No, we’re not, which means we don’t have to take it, either. “You’re right. I’m an adult, and I would much rather go across the hall to a woman who can show love and not require a damn thing from me other than loving her back.”

  “We don’t all have a Willow.”

  I’m well aware of that, and I’m grateful every single day that I do. Still, I’m in kind of a shitty mood when I go knock on her door.

  She opens it and smiles at me, easing some of the tension in my neck. “Hi, handsome.”

  “Hey.”

  She steps into the hallway, and I wrap my arms around her. Hold her close for a moment. Breathe in her perfume and try to let the scent and sight and feel of her make everything else go away.

  “Tough day?” she asks, rubbing my back.

  “The usual.” Because I don’t want to ruin our night with talk about my family shit, I release her and change the subject. “You hungry?”

  “Starving.”

  I take her hand as we start down the hall. “Me too. Let’s go.”

  Lou’s is busy, and we end up having to wait at the bar for a table. There’s only one chair, so I give it to Willow and stand close beside her. She orders a glass of wine and I have a beer, and I love the way she sort of leans into me while we wait for our drinks.

  “So tell me what’s up with you,” she says, looking up at me. “I sense a disturbance in the force.”

  I smile at the reference. “It’s nothing much. I think I’m just tired.”

  “I have been keeping you up late. Sorry.” Her grin says she’s anything but.

  I kiss the top of her head. “Don’t apologize. Late nights with you are keeping me sane.”

  “Who’s making you crazy?” She nods at the bartender, who’s setting down our drinks.

  I grab my beer and take a long pull, torn between wanting to unload on her on the off chance she’ll have words to make me feel better and wanting to keep tonight sexy and fun.

  In the end, sexy wins.

  “Right now, you are.” I lean down and whisper in her ear. “I can see down your blouse. Want to meet me in the bathroom for a quickie?”

  She giggles. “At Lou’s? I don’t think so, babe. Let’s save it for later.”

  “Damn. It was worth a try.” I tip up my beer bottle again. “So tell me about your day. How are things going in the realm of happily ever after?”

  “Good, I think.” She tucks her hair behind her ears. “Aspen and I are learning a lot from Mom and, surprisingly enough, we make a pretty good team. She’s better at the intuitive stuff and dealing with really emotional clients, and I’m good at the business tasks. I’ve also gotten more confident in suggesting matches, sort of letting my gut instincts guide me when choosing potential matches instead of being so dependent on what people say on their profiles.”

  “People probably lie a lot on those, huh?”

  “They do!” She shakes her head before sipping her wine. “And I don’t understand why—just say what you want. Tell the truth. It’s not going to do anyone any good in the long run if you’re not honest about who you are or what you’re looking for.”

  I take another long drink.

  “I mean, differences can always be worked o
ut. But I think you have to know what your differences are up front. Then you can … you can talk about them if they become an issue. You know, if things go well.” She lifts her wine glass to her lips again. “You wouldn’t be … blindsided by something you never saw coming. You’d feel prepared to deal with it. Don’t you think?”

  “Sure,” I answer, although I’m not entirely sure what she means.

  “Excuse me, Reid? Party of two?” The hostess appears beside me holding two menus. “We have a table for you.”

  I leave some cash on the bar and follow the hostess and Willow to our table. As soon as we’re seated, Willow starts talking again.

  “For example,” she goes on, not even glancing at the menu. “I knew from the very start that you didn’t want kids. And you knew that I did. That I do.”

  “Uh huh.” I look over the choices for toppings, although my stomach is bothering me a little bit. Maybe an appetizer would help. “You feel like some calamari?”

  “Whatever you want. So I was thinking … maybe we could talk about that.”

  I finish my beer. “About calamari?”

  “No. About kids.”

  Setting my empty bottle on the table, I look up at her. Had I heard that right? “Kids?”

  “Yes.” She sits up a little taller. Fiddles with the edge of her menu.

  “They’re great. For other people. Or in small, small doses.”

  “But … not for you? Like, ever?”

  “Not for me. Like ever. Christ, I’ve got Leo living with me, probably for life. He’s enough of a juvenile to deal with.”

  “Right.” Her mouth turns down. It’s obvious I’ve upset her, but it’s not like my feelings on this subject could be a surprise.

  “This is nothing new, Wills. Like you said—no blindsiding. I’ve never wanted kids and I’ve always made that clear.”