Make Me A Match (The Matchmaker) (4 page)

“And because they’re insane.” The old woman stood. Ha,
insane? As if she and Mom weren’t? “You’re coming to visit me this weekend.”

“But, Grandmother—”

“Pack. Call your sister and tell her to pack too.” She
lifted her Coach purse. “I’ll be back in a while to pick you up. I have some
shopping to do.”

Shopping? Right. Grandmother had complained more than once
about the lack of quality merchandise in our town. In a swirl of Chanel, the
woman left the apartment. Like a tornado, she was gone as quickly as she’d
arrived, leaving destruction in her wake.

I snorted in amusement and disgust. She expected us to be
ready and waiting when she returned. But I had never done what Grandmother
demanded, and I wasn’t about to start now.

********

The bell overhead tinkled a manic greeting as I pushed the
door wide and moved into the Perky Bean. The aroma of freshly brewed coffee
soothed my agitated soul. Grandmother was normally odd, but this morning took
the cake. No way was I going to stay with the old bat. We wouldn’t last an hour
without trying to kill each other.

“Yo, Flo, how’s it go?” Jerry swept past me, his bongos on
his back, a cup of coffee in his hands. His mellow personality certainly wasn’t
from the coffee.

“Hey, Jerry, how’s it going?” I wasn’t sure what his real
name was, but I’d started calling him Jerry because of his love for tie-dye,
and the name had stuck. He didn’t seem to mind. But then again, nothing seemed
to bother him. I wished I could be so at ease. Maybe I needed a big cup of
whatever he was drinking.

He stroked his long gray beard. “Good, good.”

I moved into the shop where patrons were eagerly waiting in
line, their nervously tapping feet giving away their need for a coffee high.
Jerry was just one of the many flavorful locals who made this town of misfits a
place where Lizzie and I belonged.

This early in the morning, the line was long. How I loved
the fact that I had no crappy job, no real schedule. Everyone pulsed with a
frantic need to
go
, annoyed with
work, with life. Fortunately for me, I could just sit back and observe the
hectic pace.

“Emma!”

The sound of the familiar voice sent my heart pumping into
overdrive. A wide smile spread across my face. I had a love-hate relationship
with men. Most of them I hated, but this man—with his dark hair and black
eyes—this man I definitely could love. Just like that, the morning suddenly
seemed brighter.

“You’re here early.” He paused next to me, the spicy scent
of his aftershave intoxicating.

“Hey, Tony.” I left the line, weaving my way around tables
and chairs to meet the café manager in the middle of the room.

He gave me that sexy smile, a dimple flashing in his left
cheek. “Got your drink and Danish.” He held up the coffee cup and a white bag.

I sighed, pressing my hand to my heart. “God, what would I
do without you?”

He rested his hand on the small of my back. The man was the
definition of Latin sexiness. “Go into a coma from lack of caffeine?”

I nodded seriously. “Yes, probably.”

He laughed again. “Have time to chat?”

Heck, yeah!
“Sure.”

We settled at the corner table that had become our regular
spot. I looked forward to these brief moments, and on the days when he was too
busy to chat, I cursed the customers. The rising sun pierced the tinted windows
and glinted off his dark hair. That tanned skin, those dark eyes… It was all I
could do not to launch myself at him. We’d been flirting for weeks and I wasn’t
a patient person. Would he ever ask me out?

Maybe he already had a girlfriend. I wouldn’t have been
surprised. Tony was everything a woman would want. Tall, built, and gorgeous.
And most importantly, he owned a coffee shop. It’s not like we’d be together
forever, but while our relationship lasted, I’d get free coffee. What more
could a girl ask for? If he didn’t ask me out soon, I’d bite the bullet and do
the asking.

He leaned back in his chair, stretching his long legs. “How
was your weekend?”

“Great, great. Lots of fun.” If one found hiding behind
bushes and running for your life fun. Tony had no idea what I really did for a
living. I’d told him I worked for my family business, but men got weird around
me when I admitted I spied on their gender. “Yep, lots of fun, lots of
friends.”

I resisted the urge to cringe. Nothing like trying too hard.

He smiled, flashing perfectly straight, perfectly white
teeth. “Well, great.”

“And you?”

“Yeah, I’d say I have lots of friends.”

“No.” I laughed. My last boyfriend had loved my laugh. He
said it made him want to laugh too. Unfortunately, he also loved women…lots and
lots of women. Yep, I’d dated a cheater. The irony wasn’t lost on me. “Did you
have a good weekend?”

He nodded. “Yeah, rather low key, but nice.”

The door opened, the bell overhead ringing.

Tony frowned. “He’s new.”

I turned, following his gaze. There, in the doorway, stood a
man I never expected to see again. “Owen,” I whispered so low he couldn’t have
possibly heard me, yet he looked my way.

He tilted his head in acknowledgment but didn’t start toward
me. Instead, he merely settled patiently at the back of the line, waiting his
turn, that briefcase in hand. He didn’t fidget, he didn’t check his iPhone as
most people were doing. He merely stood there, eyes ahead, back straight. Who
the heck was he and why was he stalking me?

“So, I’m having a little gathering at my place Saturday,”
Tony explained.

Reluctantly, I pulled my gaze from Owen. Dang it all, I
couldn’t concentrate on Tony with Owen standing not ten feet from me. “Great, a
gathering. Can you hold that thought for a moment?”

Not waiting for his response, I jumped from my chair and
weaved through the crowd. Dang, but he smelled just as good as before. Maybe
better. “What are you doing here?”

Startled, Owen glanced down at me. “Good morning.”

Was he seriously pretending to be surprised? “Don’t good
morning me,” I hissed. The woman in front of us glanced back curiously. Nosy
witch. I inched closer to Owen. “What the heck are you doing here?”

He shrugged, wearing another suit that fit him to
perfection. This one was dark, matching his black hair. So incredibly different
from Tony. Whereas the café manager was relaxed in his jeans and T-shirt, Owen
was all business seriousness. “I’m getting tea.”

I crossed my arms over my chest and glared up at him. “Of
course you’re getting tea.”

He moved up with the line. “Is there a problem with that?”

I scurried after him. “I find it odd that you just so happen
to enter the café that I frequent.”

He shrugged. “As I had papers to give you, I checked into the
B&B just across the street. This is the closest café.”

It sounded reasonable. I wasn’t buying it. “What do you want
from me?”

He moved up a few more steps. “I thought I’d made myself
quite clear. I’m here to deliver the papers that state your aunt’s possessions
now belong to you.”

I glanced back. Tony was watching us curiously. I could only
hope that was jealousy in his eyes. “Her possessions? Such as?”

“A small cottage in France.”

I jerked my gaze back to Owen, Tony all but forgotten.
“France?” Unwillingly, my interest piqued. How often had I dreamt of visiting
Europe? But I didn’t want to be interested. Taxes would probably be ridiculous.
I didn’t know a word of French. Not to mention I was only seventeen, could I
even legally own anything? The loft and business were in Mom’s name.

“But that’s not important,” Owen said, interrupting my
thoughts.

“Right.” I flushed, feeling somewhat greedy for my interest.
“What is then?”

His gaze was so serious, as if the very weight of the world
rested on his broad shoulders. Was he always this solemn? Did he ever relax, go
wild? “We need to talk, Ms. Watts.”

“Your tea, sir.” The man behind the counter handed Owen a
cup.

“Thank you.” He nodded his appreciation.

As I waited for him to continue with our line of conversation,
he turned and left me standing there, apparently finished. I frowned, annoyed.
So glad we could have a clear and not at all confusing conversation once again.

“Where are you going?” I called out a little too loudly, I
realized, as patrons glanced our way.

Owen didn’t bother to turn toward me, but said over his
shoulder, “To sit, if that’s all right with you.”

I started after him, catching up as he settled at an empty
table near the windows. “What about the papers? You said I had documents.”

He picked up a forgotten newspaper. “I thought you didn’t
want anything from your aunt?”

So, that’s how he was going to play it? I gritted my teeth,
resisting the urge to slap the paper from his hands. “Don’t be difficult,
Owen.”

He glanced up at me and smiled as if having the time of his
life. It was disarming to see that grin. Even more disarming was the odd warmth
that swept through my body at the sight of his crooked smile. “You remembered
my name. I’m honored.”

I flattened my hands on the tabletop, leaning toward him.
“What are you doing here? What do you want from me?”

He settled back in his chair and crossed his arms over his
chest. The movement tightened his jacket across his broad shoulders, and I was
painfully reminded of how muscled he was.

“I’m done playing your games,” he said. “Instead, I’ve
decided to sit back and wait. I’m very patient, you see.” There was an arrogant
confidence to him that surprised me, confused me, when I thought I’d had him
pegged.

“What the heck does that mean?”

“You’ll understand soon enough.” He lifted the newspaper,
scanning the articles and dismissing me altogether. Thoroughly intimidated, I
stepped back. What sort of teenage guy read the newspaper, anyway?

Done playing games? Ha. He was obviously a master at game
playing. Well, I wasn’t about to fall for his trap. Reluctantly, I moved back
to my table, feigning indifference.

“So, you dating that guy?” Tony asked.

“No!” I practically yelled. “No, not at all.”

He grinned. “Sorry, looked like a lover’s spat.”

I had to resist the urge to roll my eyes. “No, just
business.” I reached for my cup, playing with the cardboard sleeve and doing my
best to ignore Owen’s presence. “Anyway, you were saying something about a
party?”

He raked his hands through his dark hair, leaving it
endearingly tousled. “Oh, right. Saturday. You should stop by.”

A thrill of success shot through me. I smiled, batting my
lashes as I’d seen Lizzie do. “Sure, yeah. Just tell me when and where.”

I should have been thrilled, and I was, but I couldn’t help
but think of Owen sitting directly behind me. Tony grabbed a napkin and pulled
a pen from his back pocket. “We’ll barbeque. Not too many people. Should be
fun.” He scribbled his address on the napkin. As if I didn’t already know where
he lived. Please, it was the one great thing about being a PI, knowing
everything there was to know about anyone. Except Owen. I knew so little about
the man and had been unable to find any information on the web.

Tony slid the napkin toward me. Overly eager to get the
address and get out of there, I reached for it a little too quickly. Our
fingertips brushed. Electricity jolted through my body as if I’d put my hand on
a live wire. The café went dark, silent, and for a few seconds I merely floated
in oblivion.

Just as suddenly, the darkness disappeared and color burst
to life, blinding in its detail. The colors took form and I was no longer in
the café, but an apartment. Not a place I knew. Slowly, numbly, I turned,
searching for answers. Tony was seated on a couch, holding a bottle of wine. I
started toward him, only to pull up short. He wasn’t alone.

“More wine?” he asked
some woman beside him.

I stepped closer, narrowing my eyes. She seemed familiar in
some way…

Paula.

A woman who lived in my building
.

“No more.” Paula smiled,
settling with ease against the pillows, as if she belonged there in his
apartment. “Only one thing I want. You.”

Tony placed the wine
on the side table and inched closer to Paula. “Then you’ve got it.”

He cupped the side of
her face and their lips met in a passionate kiss.

“No!” I cried out.
“No!”

Before I could reach them, the room went dark and I floated
once more. Where the heck was I?

Hello?

No one answered. It was a weird hallucination. Or maybe I
was still at my apartment, dreaming. For a moment I thought maybe I’d died.
Then I heard a voice…someone calling me.

“Emma, Emma!” the voice said, insisting I return to reality,
but I wasn’t sure. It was like I was drowning in a black ocean with no idea
where the surface was located.

“Step back. I’ve got water.”

Tony
. My body grew
heavy and warm as if I were slowly sinking into mud. A heavy, dark, horrible
mud.

“Emma?” Not Tony…an English accent.

Suddenly I was aware of the cold, hard floor beneath my
back. The terrible ache of my body, the piercing pain in my skull. Murmured
words whispered around me, frantic and worried conversation.

“Should I call 911?” someone asked.

Were they talking about me?

“No, wait,” Owen said.

Wait for what, I wanted to ask, but a second later cold
water hit my face.

Reality came crashing down. I jerked upright, sputtering. A
variety of faces stared down at me. “What the hell?”

“Sorry.” Tony was kneeling beside me, an empty cup in hand.
“I thought it might help.”

“I—I’m fine.” I shoved my hands onto the cold floor and
stumbled to my feet. The room and people around me wavered in and out of focus.
Owen stood behind the crowd, his face all serious planes once more. I’d
expected to see some sort of gloating in his eyes, not worry. I tore my
attention from him, confused.