Blushing in Boston
At the Altar Book 7
Kirsten Osbourne
Unlimited Dreams
Contents
Copyright
Foreword
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Chapter 9
Chapter 10
Epilogue
About the Author
Also by Kirsten Osbourne
Copyright © 2016 by Kirsten Osbourne
All rights reserved.
No part of this book may be reproduced in any form or by any electronic or mechanical means, including information storage and retrieval systems, without written permission from the author, except for the use of brief quotations in a book review.
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Brenda Holt is certain she'll never find love. At the urging of her friend Michaela, she contacts a matchmaker, hoping the woman will work magic and find her a man she can spend her life with. The only catch is, they will be introduced at the altar. When she first meets Daniel Axford, she's convinced that Matchrimony has made its first mistake.
After a rough childhood, Daniel establishes an online dating site, running the business as its CEO. When using his own company doesn't work well for him, he hires a matchmaker to find a suitable bride. Not expecting to feel more than a passing affection for his new bride, he's startled when he sees her, afraid if he gets too close, he'll lose his heart. Can he spend the rest of his life with this woman without falling in love? Or will she break through the wall he's built around himself to find the man within?
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One
Brenda Holt walked into the lunch room at work. She had her phone tucked between her ear and her shoulder, chatting with her friend, Michaela. Michaela had recently married a pastor in Oklahoma, and Brenda wanted to know everything she could about how Michaela had met her new husband, because it was so unorthodox.
They'd been introduced by Dr. Lachele Simpson. Dr. Lachele ran a company called Matchrimony, which she had founded just a couple of years before, specializing in introducing people at the altar. Brenda couldn't help but be intrigued by the idea of a matchmaker. "So you really laid eyes on the man for the first time while you were walking down the aisle toward him? You'd never even talked on the phone?"
Michaela sighed. "I told you all this. The only contact we'd had before the wedding was when he held my hand through the doorway so we could pray together before we married."
"But—What if he'd been a mass-murderer or something? How could you trust someone enough to match you to a man you'd come to love?" Brenda could just picture the man she would meet that way. She'd be walking down the aisle, slowly, holding her father's arm. And he would turn and have red eyes, and his voice would sound like an evil hiss. She shook her head, forcing herself to listen to Michaela.
"I've known Dr. Lachele since I was a little girl, and I knew she wouldn't match me with someone who would hurt me."
Brenda popped her frozen lunch into the microwave and pushed the buttons to start the cycle. "And you weren't nervous?" Walking to the coffee machine, she made herself a cup of hot cocoa before she sat down at a small table in the middle of the kitchen, waiting on the microwave.
Michaela laughed. "Nervous? I was petrified!"
"But you managed to get through it?" Brenda wasn't certain she could push through her fear for long enough to get to the wedding night. She could just see her red-eyed demonic groom standing over her as she lay on her back on the bed, twirling handcuffs on one finger.
"Once I was in the situation, I didn't really have a choice."
"You think I should do it don't you?"
Michaela sighed. "Yeah, I do. I think anyone who wants to be happy should do it. I've seen so many people who thought they found their perfect mate, who were in love, who couldn't make it work. Dr. Lachele has a perfect success rate."
"No one can have a perfect success rate. I don't care how good they are." Brenda stood up and got her lunch from the microwave. "How long has she been in business?"
"Just a few years. But so far, she's batting a thousand."
"How can that be?" Brenda sat back down at the table, grabbing a fork. "Everyone fails sometimes." She wasn't about to believe that this Dr. Lachele person was perfect. She didn't care what Michaela said.
"That's true. Eventually she will, I'm sure. She just hasn't yet. I know she's matched at least twenty couples, and there hasn't been a divorce yet."
Brenda frowned. "Maybe I'll call her tomorrow. If I can get up the guts." She liked the idea of having the emotions cut out of the equation where marriage was concerned. She'd never even picked a good boyfriend, let alone a husband.
"Do it now!" Michaela urged. "Before you lose your courage. I know Lachele can find the right person for you. And I know you'd be so much happier."
"Not everyone needs to be married to be happy." Even as she said the words, Brenda realized that she desperately wanted children, and she wasn't about to have them alone. She didn't want to wait much longer either.
"That's very true. Not everyone does. But you've always wanted children. I remember when we were in college and you would talk about wanting six kids. But you wanted at least a year after you were married before you have them. Something about a career?"
Brenda sighed. "A career in finance is a lot harder than I thought it would be. I expected to adore everything I do, but it's just not working out that way." She looked around to make sure no one was listening to her conversation. "Spending eight hours a day talking on the phone is not what I had in mind when I got my degree." She was working in finance, but it felt like her phone job had to be the bowels of the financial world.
"So you should tell Lachele that you need a rich man who keeps you in the style with which you want to be accustomed."
Brenda laughed. "Yeah right. Because that's what you do. I'm sure you asked to see Jon's financial statements before you agreed to marry him. Pastors make so much money."
Michaela chuckled. "Oh, you're so right about that. Why, we're the richest people in all of Oklahoma. In love."
"I never figured you'd get all sappy after you got married."
"I'm happy in my sappiness. I'd like you to be happy too."
"Fine, I'll call her. When I get home. I can't drive and talk on the phone in Boston traffic. And I'm certainly not calling her from work!" She would feel as if she was on display if she called. She pictured herself in a giant glass jar with all of her co-workers peering into the jar, like Darla, the little girl who looked at the fish in the dentist's office in Finding Nemo.
"Yay! I can't wait to hear how happily married you are."
They talked for a few more minutes before Brenda had to hang up, so she could eat her lunch before getting back to work. Another four hours on the phones today. Brenda was sure she could handle it.
She walked back to her beige cubicle, imagining bars surrounding her. She was jailed by her phone job!
* * *
Daniel Axford frowned at the woman sitting across from him. She was beautiful, but he was already positive she wasn't his type. They'd only met an hour before, and he was already bored. The only word that came to mind as he thought about her was vacuous. Somehow the elevator didn't go all the way to the top floor.
Daniel was the CEO of an online dating service, and this was the last in a long string of dates that convinced him that online dating services re
ally didn't work. He wished they did, because he was looking for someone. He was a thirty-two-year-old self-made millionaire. Within the year he'd be into the billions.
He wanted to have children and mentor them, teaching them about the world. He considered seeking out a surrogate, but he didn't want anything so impersonal for his child. And he wanted to make sure the woman he chose was the type of mother he wanted for his children. He certainly didn't want someone like vacuous Valerie to mother his child. He wanted someone with a brain. Maybe instead of vacuous Valerie he could find brainy Brenda.
Valerie, or Veronica maybe, was droning on and on about how painful waxing was. "It's not bad when you just do the eyebrows, but when they do your legs I just want to scream in pain! There's got to be a better way." She licked her bottom lip in an obvious effort to entice him. "What did you say you do?"
"I didn't." Daniel was ready to get up and leave her there.
"Oh." She shook her head, obviously not caring what he thought. "Have you ever tried healing crystals? They are so amazing. My grandmother had cancer, or at least we're pretty sure it was cancer. She hadn't been to the doctor yet. But we bought some healing crystals, and we put them on her head, and she was healed in just a few hours. When she went to the doctor the next week, all of the cancer was gone!"
Daniel looked at his phone. His secretary was supposed to text him any minute with an emergency. He had her do that for every first date. If it was actually someone he liked he could tell them what he'd done, and they could laugh together. It hadn't happened yet. "Never tried them."
"Oh, you should! Maybe they could heal your nervous twitch."
Daniel hadn't had a nervous twitch before he met her. "I think I'll be all right."
Valerie took another bite of her salad. "I'm so glad they don't put cheese on the salad. Some places put it on every salad, and I just think it's so barbaric what they put cows through to get cheese! You know it has to hurt them!"
Daniel didn't think that was worth responding to. He just cut off another bite of his steak and popped it into his mouth. He glanced at his phone again. His secretary was five minutes late. Normally he could handle an extra five minutes, but this one was bad. He might have to fire her over this.
His text tone sounded. He picked up his phone and swiped his finger across it. "It's my secretary," he said. "There's an emergency. I have to get back to the office."
Valerie looked baffled. "It's a Friday night. Who goes back to the office on a Friday?"
"A man who's in charge of many people." He stood, removed his wallet from his pocket, and threw a hundred-dollar bill on the table. "It was great meeting you Vanessa."
"It's Valerie."
It really doesn't matter since I'll never be seeing you again. "Yes, of course, Valerie. Have a good night, Valerie." Daniel turned and strode away. He knew what he'd said it would be taken as rude, but really? She should be glad he paid for the meal. She should have paid him to listen to her prattle on.
He walked out of the Boston restaurant, made a left, and found his car parked in one of the small pay parking lots. He'd always driven nondescript sedans, usually dark blue or gray, and never meant to catch anyone's eyes. He was thankful he'd had vacuous Valerie meet him at the restaurant.
He was done. Never again would he try out the services of his own company. No, he was going with an exclusive matchmaker. He'd heard that there were plenty online, and he would find one. No more dating games. He didn't have time, and he didn't have the energy. There had to be someone out there with a brain, who was ready to marry and have children.
On his drive home, he made a mental list of what he needed in a woman. First, she had to be smart. She could have a career if she really needed to, but he'd prefer someone who was willing to stay home with the children. That was negotiable. She couldn't be hideous. He didn't want to have to put a bag over her head when he was creating said children. And third, she couldn't know about his wealth. No woman was going to marry him just because he was rich.
When he got home, he got online and searched for matchmakers. As he scrolled through the website, he found that they all wanted him to agree to a minimum number of hours of dating. He didn't have time for that. Finally he found a website with an unusual name: Matchrimony.
As he scrolled through the site, he found a picture of a woman with purple hair and a beautiful smile. She looked crazy, but that was okay. He wouldn't marry her. Reading through her website, he found that she expected people to be introduced at the altar. That suited him perfectly. It was past eleven o'clock at night, and he knew she wouldn't be in her office, but he dialed anyway.
The phone was answered on the second ring. "This is Dr. Lachele."
"Are you the purple haired matchmaker?" Daniel knew his voice was abrupt, but he'd had a difficult day.
"Yes, I am. What can I do for you?"
"I want a smart wife who is not hideous and wants children. Can you make it happen?"
"I require all my potential matches to go through a rigorous eight hour testing process. Are you willing to do that?" The woman sounded like she was in her mid-forties. And that sounded about right to him based on the picture.
"Depends when you want to do it. I'm a busy man."
"Eight hours talking to me is a lot faster than dating a woman. Where do you live?"
"Boston area."
There was a laugh from the other end. "Of course you do. I'll be on a train on my way to Boston tomorrow. There's another potential that I need to interview there all day tomorrow, and I'll be free on Sunday. Can you make eight hours for me on Sunday?" Her voice was brisk and no-nonsense.
He wished there was some way he could get out of the testing, but he knew he'd just have to do it. "Yes, I can make time for you on Sunday. You want to come to my house, or should I meet you somewhere?"
"I'll come there. What's your address?"
He gave her his address, waiting for her to write it down. "What time?" he asked.
"I'll be there at eight."
"I'll be ready." Truthfully, he hated that he'd be unable to work for those hours while she questioned him, but he'd be able to deal with it. She was right that it was better than dating endless women and trying to find one who suited him. He could skip a day of work to save that kind of time.
He set his phone down and looked at his computer. If he couldn't work Sunday, he needed to work now. He couldn't afford to take that many hours off work and not make them up.
* * *
Brenda wandered around her apartment on Sunday, wondering if she was doing the right thing. Dr. Lachele had been very thorough in her questioning, asking things that her mother didn't even know about her. She hoped she could go through with a marriage to a stranger, but only time would tell.
She sat down on the couch, staring off into space as she saw herself looking into the eyes of a faceless stranger, promising to love him forever. When he leaned down to kiss her, he tasted like rotten fish smelled. What had she done?
She picked up her Kindle, selecting the latest release by her favorite author. It was so much easier to give her mind over to other people's troubles than it was to worry about her own. Besides, Sundays were made for laundry and reading, right?
* * *
As Brenda was leaving work on Wednesday, her phone rang. She pulled off to the side of the parking lot to answer, refusing to endanger herself or anyone else for a phone call.
"Hello?"
"Brenda! It's Dr. Lachele."
Brenda took a deep breath. "Oh, hi Dr. Lachele." She was nervous just hearing the woman's voice. Michaela had warned her that once she called, everything moved very quickly. She probably wanted her to get on a plane and fly out immediately. She'd never see her family or friends again after she was murdered on her wedding night!
"I found someone for you. I'll tell you now, it'll be rocky in the beginning, but he's worth it."
"That sounds ominous. Why is it going to be rocky?" Brenda wondered what Dr. Lachele was hiding from he
r. Besides the man's name, occupation, location, and everything else about him.
"You know I can't tell you that. Are you willing to move forward?"
"I… I guess! When are we talking?"
"He wants to be married this weekend."
"But… That's three days! How can I possibly be ready to get married in three days?" Brenda was sure she must've misheard Dr. Lachele.
"That's what I told him! So you're getting married next weekend."
"Wha— next weekend? I need at least a month."
Dr. Lachele sighed. "He wanted sooner than that. A week from Saturday, yes or no?"
Brenda's mind was racing. "I guess. Is he moving here?" She told Lachele she really didn't want to leave her family.
"He already lives there. He's in the Boston area."
"So do I need to be ready to move in with him? Or is he moving in with me?"
Lachele laughed. "Oh, you're moving in with him!"
"Where will the wedding be?"
"I talked to your pastor, and he's willing to do the wedding either Saturday morning at ten."
"So at my church?" Brenda wasn't sure she could even get off work to shop for a wedding dress.
"Yip. I'll be at the church about nine a week from Saturday. If you have any questions feel free to call me." The line went dead.
Brenda set the phone down, her hand shaking. She leaned back against the seat. She was getting married. In ten days. How on earth was she going to tell her mother she was marrying a stranger?
* * *
Brenda met her sister Brianna for lunch at eleven on Saturday. After they'd ordered their drinks, Brenda got straight to the point. "Mom will be here at noon. I wanted you to come early because I need your help."
Brianna was three years Brenda's senior. She frowned at her sister. "With what? Did you do something crazy? Are you going to ask for money?"
Blushing in Boston (At the Altar Book 7) Page 1