by Kay Lyons
Did she trust this process? Izzy was right in that Amelia’s ways of meeting men hadn’t worked, and she was embarrassed at her dating site fails, but a matchmaker? Really?
“I know that look,” Izzy said. “Oh, Meli, come on. You have to do this. For me. For yourself and that baby you want so badly.”
“I’m just not sure. Marsali,” Amelia said, “I’m sure you’re great at your job—”
“I am. My ninety-two-percent success rate is proof.”
Ninety-two? “That’s great. But you should know I’ve made an appointment and—”
“At the sperm bank?” Izzy said, her voice carrying to those at nearby tables.
“For the love of— Izzy, will you please keep your voice down?”
“No. No, I’m upset and I have every right to be. I won’t let you do this, Meli. Friends keep friends from being stupid, and what you plan is stupid,” Izzy said, shaking her blond head with enough force to rattle teeth. “You’re giving up on love and romance and taking the easy way out. What if Marsali has the perfect guy for you? I know you’re afraid of getting hurt again after wading through the sludge pit of men out there online, but if you’re willing to go through a freaking sperm bank to get a baby, can’t you at least give this a chance first? Give Marsali six setups. If they don’t work, fine. Go do what you’re so determined to do. But at least give Marsali a chance to find you the romance reset you so desperately need and deserve.”
Amelia tilted her head to the side, and even though the conversation about men had been fun, it was time for a reality check. “Romance reset? Izzy, I’m not even sure I believe those men exist now. They’re unicorns. Between porn, drugs and addictions, sexual deviants, and a few other hard nos for me, the odds are—”
“Ninety-two percent,” Izzy and Marsali stated in unison, sharing a smile because of it.
Ninety-two-percent chance of finding a freaking unicorn?
Amelia stared across the table into her best friend’s face. Izzy wanted to help her. Thought she was helping by setting this up and hiring Marsali. Was she ready for something like this? Because matchmaking was totally next level.
The first available appointment at the sperm bank was a little over four weeks away. Which, technically, gave her plenty of time to meet a few of the potential men Marsali might procure between now and then and prove her willingness to try if for no other reason than to get Marsali and Izzy off her back. Amelia felt the intensity of their combined stares and caved beneath the pressure. “Fine,” she said, holding up her hands in surrender. “I’ll agree to being set up. But not six of them. I don’t have time for that. I’m working long hours and I have to be on set Monday and it’s gonna be a crazy few weeks while they’re in Wilmington filming.”
“Five,” Izzy said with a not-so-innocent blink.
“One,” Amelia countered.
“One’s just for practice. Three. Final offer,” Izzy added, this time with a stern glare. “Come on, Amelia. You have nothing to lose and everything to gain by doing this.”
“It works like this,” Marsali said. “I match you and you go out. If you both agree to go out again, you do. If one of you says no, then we move on to the next match. I’ll be honest and say it’s usually the third or fourth match that tends to stick. As I get your feedback on the first date or two, it helps narrow things down a bit more and streamline the process.”
Amelia inhaled and waited several long seconds before finally nodding. “Fine. I’ll do it. I agree to being matched and will make a concerted effort—but when I go to that appointment next month,” she said to Izzy, “you will not say another word about it.”
Izzy lifted her glass and Marsali quickly followed suit.
“To doing it the old-fashioned way,” Izzy said with a high tilt of her blond head.
“To good men,” Marsali countered. “And may I find one quickly for Amelia.”
Amelia clinked her glass against theirs. “To unicorns.”
Chapter 2
“Better watch out.”
Lincoln Hayes turned at the sound of his neighbor Mac Jones’s deep voice and lifted his drink in a salute. “Hey. Nice party.” Mac’s house stood between Lincoln’s and his brother Carter’s house, and as the fairly new arrival to the neighborhood, Mac had hosted a gathering to introduce himself and get to know his neighbors.
“Thanks. But seriously, unless you want to wind up in her database, steer clear of my sister. Marsali is eyeing you and Carter like a kid in a candy store.”
“Database?” Carter asked, turning his head to scan the crowd inside the spacious home.
Younger than Lincoln by five years, Carter had the same dark eyes and muscular build as Linc, but his hair had yet to lighten. Lincoln’s wife, Jill, had always said the premature gray he carried looked sexy and distinguished, but Linc knew it came from becoming Carter’s guardian at the ripe old age of eighteen. His younger brother had been a hellion before their parents had died in a car crash, and things had gotten a lot worse before they got better.
“Professional matchmaker,” Mac said.
“Seriously? That’s a thing?” Carter asked. “I thought you were joking when you said that earlier.”
“Nope,” Mac murmured, narrowing his gaze on his sister as she approached. “And my best advice is to scatter. Now.”
Lincoln chuckled at the warning, but none of the men actually moved as Mac’s younger sister closed in on them. Marsali Jones looked nothing like her brother. She was a good foot shorter, for one, and her long curls were the polar opposite of Mac’s short crew cut.
“Nice party,” the woman in question said as she joined their group.
“Uh-huh,” Mac stated with a dubious glare at his sister even as he wrapped an arm around her shoulders and tugged her close for a sideways hug. “Guys, my sister, Marsali Jones, professional troublemaker.”
Marsali glared at her older and much taller brother before sticking her hand out to greet them.
“Lincoln Hayes.”
“Carter Hayes.”
“Ah, the neighbors,” Marsali said. “And all bachelors, I’ve heard.”
“See?” Mac said, the word followed by a groan. “Marse, stop trying to match up my friends. Before long I won’t have any single buddies left. Tonight is all about fun, not you adding to your client list.”
Marsali smiled what could only be called an ornery grin and Lincoln found himself chuckling. The two definitely fought like brother and sister, much like his twin teenagers, who’d taken Carter’s four-year-old daughter home from the party after an hour, citing boredom.
“What about you?” Carter asked, giving Marsali a once-over. “If you’re a matchmaker, where’s your ring?”
Lincoln wasn’t sure if the question was out of interest or mere curiosity, but it brought a flush of color to Marsali’s cheeks and a glare from Mac.
“No ring yet,” she said simply. “But trust me when I say my skills at matchmaking are superb.”
“Gotta give her that,” Mac stated somewhat drolly. “She might be a pain but she has a ninety-two-percent success rate.”
Lincoln was impressed by the percentage if nothing else. It was surprising given her age and sweet appearance.
“Marsali! Come here, girl, you have to meet someone,” a woman called from across the room.
Marsali lifted her hand to indicate she’d be right there.
“Duty calls. Gentlemen, it was lovely to meet you. Mac, stop scaring potential clients away,” she ordered, smiling at them before she left to join the crowd across the room.
“She’s cute,” Carter said.
Lincoln winced and watched as Mac glowered at Carter in typical older-brother style.
“Off-limits.”
Carter grinned and Lincoln took hold of Carter’s shoulder, tugging him away from the bigger, bulkier Mac. Sometimes he wondered if his little brother had the sense God gave him to steer clear of trouble rather than run toward it. “Haven’t I taught you not to poke a bear? Bu
ddy rule counts here.”
“Exactly. Off-limits,” Mac repeated, nodding in response to Lincoln’s words.
After a hard look at Carter, their host excused himself to mingle.
“She is really cute. I could see her—”
“No,” Lincoln said.
Carter laughed even as he took a drink.
“Fine. I’ll go find someone else to hit on then.”
Knowing his brother, it wouldn’t take him long. Carter had a bad-boy look about him but tended to be a romantic. Carter seemed to attract the type of women who weren’t looking for more than a good time. It had landed his brother married—and divorced—twice.
Thirty minutes later, Lincoln settled himself onto the patio furniture lining Mac’s deck and took a drink from the bottle he held. A few people wandered around Mac’s yard, looking at the newly designed landscaping recently finished by one of Carter’s subcontractors. Thankfully the deck was quiet given the mugginess of the August night.
“Nice and quiet out here,” a soft, feminine voice said from behind him.
Lincoln turned to find Marsali slowly moving toward him from the door she’d exited off of the kitchen. “Hey. Are you enjoying the party?”
“Yes. I didn’t realize my brother was such a good host,” Marsali said with a grin. “May I join you?”
“Sure.” Lincoln stood as a good southern gentleman was taught to do when a lady joined him, and waited while Marsali curled up on the cushioned sofa opposite him before reseating himself.
“I, uh, noticed you were getting quite a bit of attention in there. Is she your girlfriend?”
Marsali’s observation brought out a groan he couldn’t control. “No. A married neighbor who’s had a little too much to drink. I thought I’d hide out long enough for her husband to take her home.”
“I see. Lincoln, I was wondering…”
Instant unease filled him. Had he escaped from one woman inside only to get trapped by another outside? The wound from Jill’s death from a car accident was still raw in some ways. Between that and the deaths of his parents, not a day went by that he didn’t wonder if he’d lose everyone that way. “I’m a widower, Marsali. Three years last May.”
“Oh, I didn’t realize.” Her expression softened to sympathy. “I’m sorry for your loss. Mac simply referred to you three as ‘bachelor row,’ and I mistakenly assumed you’d never married or were divorced or something. How long were you together?”
“Fifteen years.”
“That’s wonderful.”
He nodded, his thoughts going back in time. “We married young. I was twenty, working construction full-time, going to night classes to get into real estate, and raising Carter after my parents died. Jill was nineteen when we met in class. Those were some lean, hard years but we made it work.”
The breeze off Carolina Cove’s canal brought the scent of salt air along with the low hum of frogs and cicadas and a few boats slowly making their way back to the marina. As always, the scents and sounds brought peace and reminded him that life, however painful, moved on.
“Lincoln, I don’t want to intrude but have you dated since then? I’m sorry, I know it’s a personal question, and I don’t mean to pressure you in any way. Truly. Just wondering if you’ve been feeling lonely?”
“I… Sometimes,” he admitted even though he knew her reasons for asking. But maybe she could help him find someone to spend time with?
“Well, again… please feel no pressure, but I’m always looking for quality clients. It would be a great way to get your feet wet in the dating scene.” Marsali flashed a brief smile. “You aren’t the only professional who works long hours, and I’m guessing you’ve outgrown the bar and party scene. A lot of people find it hard to meet other singles, so I bring the singles to them after vetting them.”
With the kids prepping for college and active with their friends, he’d thrown himself into work after Jill’s death to combat the loneliness that snuck in when he wasn’t on guard. But did loneliness mean he was ready to date? “How do you vet them?”
He asked more out of keeping the conversation going while he pondered his readiness, but he was curious, too.
“I do a full background check on each of my clients. Even a financial check if they allow it and it’s requested. That’s in addition to their one-on-one interviews, where I ask a ton of questions and generally assess them, keeping in mind potential matches from my database.”
“That sounds… difficult.”
Marsali grinned again and shoved her thick curls behind her shoulder. “Not at all. If you know what to look for. I have a background in psychology and constantly study personality tells. People give blatant clues as to their hang-ups, red flags, what have you. Most of the time, we daters ignore them and hope for the best, but a matchmaker picks up on those tells and works to either match them with someone suitable or we steer them toward whatever professional help we feel they might need, in the case of someone who’s too insecure, has self-esteem issues, or problems with trauma.”
“Do I remember correctly Mac mentioning something about you writing a book?”
“I did. It’ll be released soon,” she said, her expression revealing her excitement. “Very soon, actually. It’s a guide for women and dating. So many women struggle with finding the right man, and my list of guidelines and rules, if you want to call them that, will eliminate some of the guesswork as to why certain couples simply don’t work. Matchmaking is old-school, I know, but there’s a science to it that is simply fascinating, and with the right matchmaker, things can go very well.”
Lincoln smiled at her enthusiasm and love of her profession, noting how animated it made her just talking about her livelihood. “I see. Well, to answer your earlier question, no, I haven’t tackled dating yet.”
Marsali tilted her head to one side as she gazed at him, her expression not pitying but… knowing? Until then, Marsali looked like every other twenty something, but the awareness in her gaze left him changing his opinion to that of someone with an old soul, and knowledgeable about many things beyond her years.
Most everything had a science behind it, so he supposed it only made sense that finding that special someone would use some sort of formula as well.
“Lincoln, I can’t imagine what you’ve been through, but I know getting back into the dating world is tough. Mac has said wonderful things about you. He thinks a lot of you, and after chatting with you, I get that same impression. If you’re interested, I’d be happy to match you with someone. The first match is even on me. My treat. Here,” she said, digging for and slipping a rectangle from her pocket, “is my card. It has all my numbers and my website, where you can check my background and qualifications. There’s also free tutorials about dating, conversation starters, that sort of thing. You might find it interesting. Just so you know, my clients with children especially like the background check aspect and interview. It’s a two-step way of weeding out the crazy that might slip through otherwise.”
Lincoln took the card and nodded at Marsali. “Thanks, Marsali. I’ll think about it.”
“Good. I hope so. You seem like a good man, Lincoln. There are a lot of women out there searching for you.”
He glanced at the card and lightly tapped it against his leg. “We’ll see.”
“Okay. Sales pitch over. I’ll leave you be to enjoy this beautiful night.”
Lincoln stood when Marsali got up and said her goodbyes. Once she headed toward the door to reenter the house, he moved off the deck, into the yard, to an even more private spot to ponder their discussion.
Lincoln turned and stared up at the three-story house fully lit up and bursting at the seams with Mac’s neighbors and colleagues, remembering a time when he and Jill had played hosts for one reason or another during their marriage.
A wave of loneliness hit hard, and he wondered if it was due to his conversation with Marsali or the awareness the twins would be going away to college in a matter of weeks, leaving him to face
the rest of his life alone. Maybe he should look into Marsali’s services. At least check out the website and tutorials and brush up his rusty flirting skills. He definitely wasn’t the type for bars or clubs. Never had been. That was more Carter’s thing.
Lincoln focused on the familiar faces inside Mac’s home. He had plenty of friends and colleagues in real estate, a few of them in that house, but no one came to mind when he thought of dating again. And he knew he wouldn’t meet someone sitting at his desk or at home. But… was he ready? Was this what he wanted?
Lincoln stared at the house a bit longer before he decided to make his escape while he was free to do so. He walked next door to his home but the moment he opened the door, the emptiness hit him in a wave. The kids would eventually return tonight, but in a few weeks, that wouldn’t be the case. The house would be as big and empty as it was now, night after night, and he’d have only the television for company.
He cleaned up the errant dishes in the sink, watched some television. Waited for the twins to return from Carter’s house, where they’d taken Piper home from the party and started a movie.
His gaze shifted to the travel brochures he’d picked up on a whim as he’d passed by a display. He’d pulled them out of his computer bag earlier to empty it and then set aside the brochures because he didn’t like the idea of traveling alone. Carter couldn’t be away from Piper for long, and Mac stayed busy running his various businesses… There were Meetup groups dedicated to traveling singles, but traveling with a group of strangers didn’t appeal either.
Lincoln pulled Marsali’s card from the pocket where he’d put it and called the number. Thankfully it went to voicemail, no doubt because she was still at her brother’s party. “Yeah, Marsali, it’s Lincoln Hayes. I thought about what you said and… I think I’d like to set up a meeting with you. I… Yeah. Let’s do this. I’m ready to have some fun.”
Chapter 3
“Why am I doing this?” Amelia asked two weeks later, staring into the mirror above her bathroom sink. “This is crazy. It’s beyond crazy because it’s hopeless.”