Their Matchmaker Read online

The words caught her eye, and fantasy flew out the window. She gave the notice her full attention. Law firm letterhead. Official looking legalese. And once she filtered through the wordy explanation, a notice that she needed to immediately stop development and sale of her dating app until she could prove she wasn’t using any intellectual property from Emily.

  Cynthia frowned. It never should have come to this. Emily was her best friend.

  Until Cynthia had to choose between Emily and Paul, her own brother. Cynthia tried to repair the friendship but didn’t get anywhere. She didn’t think this dispute would actually happen, though.

  She couldn’t afford a legal dispute to prove this app was hers, and the buyout amount listed in the letter was ludicrous. She dialed Emily’s number, knowing what she’d hear, even before the phone connected.

  We’re sorry. The number you have reached has been disconnected.

  Cynthia blew a puff of air, to knock a strand of hair from her face. Next, she dialed the number on the notice. After several minutes and various transfers, someone answered who was familiar with the case.

  “I’m looking to get in touch with the person who filed this order,” Cynthia said.

  “It doesn’t work that way.” The man—Ryan? Brian? She hadn’t quite caught his name—sounded cool and emotionless. “Once you’ve spoken with your attorney, we expect a reply stating your intentions.”

  “But if I could just talk to Ms. Lowry—”

  “You’ll need to do that on your own dime, so to speak. Client information is confidential. I can’t stop you from contacting her outside of this firm, but I wouldn’t recommend it, and I certainly won’t give you her number.”

  Cynthia sank back in her chair. That made sense, but she had hoped... “I see. Thank you for your time.” She disconnected before he could reply.

  She wasn’t giving up this company. She’d put too much work into it, to walk away now. Once she found Emily they’d make things right. The question was, could she do that before the cease and desist required her response? It had been six months she and Emily spoke, so the odds didn’t seem good, but Cynthia wouldn’t have held on this long if she wasn’t capable of a little optimism.

  Chapter Seven

  AARON ROLLED OVER IN bed and reached out. When his hand met an empty spot of cold sheet where Gavin should be, he frowned and opened his eyes. The clock said it was barely six in the morning. Gavin hated being up this early.

  There were a half-dozen reasonable causes for his side of the bed being empty, but that didn’t stop uneasiness from settling over Aaron. He pulled on some clothes and wandered through the house, looking for his other half. The tap of a keyboard filtered toward him, as he neared the office. Aaron turned in that direction and paused in the doorway.

  Gavin sat in front of his computer, his fingers flying over the keys, multiple windows open onscreen. Displayed in front of him was a series of photos, what looked like articles, and code.

  “Morning,” Aaron said. “You been up long?”

  Gavin didn’t look up.

  Aaron crossed the room and rested a hand on Gavin’s shoulder.

  Gavin jumped and whirled in his seat. It took him a moment to focus his bloodshot eyes on Aaron. He blinked and shook his head. “Jesus. Give a guy some warning.”

  “What’s going on?” Aaron’s concern grew with each passing second.

  Stress lined Gavin’s forehead, and his screen was littered with tabloid websites. He switched to a different web browser window and scrolled to the top of the page. It took Aaron about two seconds of scanning, to get the gist of the post.

  Which Hollywood Darling is Making a Comeback?

  Fucking clickbait headlines.

  The text of the article was brief.

  Child actor turned heartthrob, Gavin Jackson, was seen leaving the offices of The Brunson Agency. Sources say talks to revive his career are in progress.

  The accompanying images and captions were damning. Photos of Gavin, as clear as if the photographer had posed him, taken at various locations around the city, and labeled in each case. In concept, it wouldn’t be hard to capture him on film—it wasn’t as though Gavin was a recluse—but it meant the photographer knew who he was and where to find him.

  Several of the pictures included Aaron, as the two left the building Cyn’s office was in.

  The building labeled as the home of The Brunson Agency.

  The email Gavin got the other day wasn’t such a big deal. Those came in from time to time. But this was too specific. Too close to home. Aaron clenched his jaw until his teeth ground together. It wasn’t the same as Gavin rebooting his acting career, and it didn’t mean he’d slide into old habits. However, he didn’t look like he was in the best frame of mind, and that was enough to make this troublesome.

  “Did you call Don?” Aaron asked. Don Twents was their lawyer, and always had takedown notices on hand for scares like this. Except there hadn’t been anything this specific in... ever.

  “Yeah. But it’s not that simple. The story went viral, and I can’t find the original source. There are a series of top sites that picked it up within a few minutes of each other, but there’s no originating point.”

  “Does it matter, as long as it goes away?”

  “Yes, it matters.” Gavin clenched his fist and sighed. “Sorry. It’s just that... when was the last time someone besides the DMV took that clear and distinctly unflattering a picture of me? And with your picture out there, you’re going to be a lot easier to track down. You lead to me, our home address gets out. I’m trying not to blow this out of proportion, but we have to consider the consequences.”

  “We’ve always known this was a possibility.” The words sounded more reassuring in Aaron’s head than spoken aloud. “But we’ll deal with this. The last thing I want to see is you falling back into that pit.”

  Gavin gave him a weak smile “We’re nowhere near that point. I promise.”

  “Good. Have you slept at all?”

  “Not really. The alert came in around one, and I got sucked down the rabbit hole of following links.”

  “Go sleep. Let Don deal with this.” Aaron spun the chair so Gavin faced the door. “And I’ll change the terms of investment with Cynthia, so we don’t have to go back to her building.”

  “You need a win at work, and she may have a good product.”

  Aaron looked at him in disbelief. “But that doesn’t mean we need her to set us up. You’re sleep deprived for sure, if you think that’s a good way to stay off the radar.”

  “You’re right. Do what you need, but don’t cut her loose because of me.” Gavin stood and gave Aaron a quick kiss before ambling from the room.

  Aaron sank into the now-empty seat and stared at the pictures on the screen. It shouldn’t be a big deal. The paparazzi got images of everyone all the time. It was a consequence of having any kind of celebrity. That didn’t stop concern from snaking through Aaron.

  CYNTHIA TRIED TO PUT the cease and desist out of her mind overnight, but when she got to her office the next morning, it sat on her desk, looking deceptively banal.

  She shoved it aside and sat in front of her computer, to get to work. She had more coding to do, but today she also had a full meeting docket. After her system made the automated match recommendations, she got to the personalized part of her service—working with her clients face to face, to go over their match options and narrow the list using their input. She met with clients, brought lists back together, and assembled final matches from there.

  Each time she pulled up a new task, her gaze drifted back to the legal paperwork. She shoved it under a stack of folders, but she knew it was there, almost as if it whispered her name from beneath its paper tomb.

  If she could get in touch with Emily—if she could make things right...

  Why was Cynthia so unyielding the last time they talked? She regretted it as it was, but this was another wound. She tried emailing Emily before, to no avail, but that didn’t stop her from sendin
g off another note.

  Emily,

  I know I screwed up, and I just want to apologize. Please?

  Cynthia

  Not that she expected it to go anywhere. None of their other friends seemed to have Emily’s current cell-phone number, and her parents weren’t giving up the information. Not that Cynthia blamed them.

  She pulled the C&D out and stared at it. The dollar amount Emily wanted in order to relinquish her intellectual property mocked Cynthia. Emily had earned something, and it would be nice to have her as a partner, but that option was off the table.

  If Cynthia secured an investment through Aaron, could she make the numbers work? Not up front, but the lawyers would work on a payment schedule, wouldn’t they? She wasn’t going to ask unless she could make the numbers work.

  Several hours later, the math almost added up. Not quite, but it was close. Hope flickered inside. None of it would matter if Aaron didn’t agree to work with her, though.

  Which meant working hard to find matches for him and Gavin. She’d never worked with find the same date for two of us before, but the steps to allow for it were in place.

  She had to fix the back-end code, to return matches other than herself, then call existing clients to see if they were interested in an arrangement like dating two men already in a relationship.

  Step One took longer than she expected. It was almost eleven that night when she shut off her office computer and dragged herself out to her car. She had her list, though.

  In the morning, she arrived at work psyched up and ready to start calling clients. She had several questions for them, rather than asking out of the blue, “Would you consider dating two men at once?”

  She met a wide-variety of responses when she got to that part of her questionnaire, ranging from Are you kidding? That sounds hot, to What the fuck is wrong with you? Why would I do that?

  She was grateful when the process was over. Her nerves felt like they’d been forced through a cheese grater. This had to work. Please. She dialed Aaron, the short prayer repeating in her head.

  “Murdoch Birch.” The name and the stress in his voice caught her off-guard.

  She grasped her wits quickly. “Hi. This is Cynthia Tremaine. Is now a good time?”

  His sigh echoed off the receiver. “Sure. What can I do for you?” His tone shifted toward pleasant but still held an edge.

  “I’ve got preliminary results for you.” She pushed ahead. Second-guessing his mood and whether it had to do with her would only stall her. “When can I get the two of you back in the office, to move to the next step?” The thought of being face to face with Gavin and Aaron again sparked inside, sending heat racing over her skin.

  “I don’t know if we can make that appointment. Now’s not a good time. I don’t mean this moment; I mean in general.”

  Were the exhaustion and irritation were directed at her? She couldn’t have him pull out. Not now. Not without a chance to prove herself. “I’m flexible. I can meet in the evening, the weekend—whenever. Even if we need to put it off for a week or two. Please?” She clenched her jaw shut before she could slide into begging.

  “Are you able to meet us at home?” His tone softened.

  As a general rule, she preferred not to. It wasn’t only for personal safety. Her office was a neutral environment, and that impacted how people answered her questions. She was making plenty of exceptions for Aaron. Would one more matter? Especially considering that the neutral environment didn’t seem to inhibit the men last time. “I can do that. Fair warning—environment can taint the results.”

  “I’ll keep that in mind. Privacy is more important. I have the utmost faith in you, and if for some reason you feel the setting hurt the process, I’ll take it into consideration.”

  Her heart hammered hard. She needed to keep this encounter on track, unlike last time. Knowing that didn’t erase the visuals the men stuck in her head. If this weren’t a business arrangement, she’d agree in an instant to be trapped between the two. “What evening works best for you?”

  “Tonight, if you’re free.”

  Great. Not a lot of time to bring herself under control, but also less freaking out about whether or not this would go her way. Think positive. “Sounds perfect. In the meantime, I’m adding your matches to your account inbox. Both of you should look them over before then, if you can, and see if anyone stands out to you.”

  “Sounds fantastic. I’ll email you the address, and we’ll see you at seven.”

  As Cynthia disconnected, the flames rolling over her skin faded but didn’t vanish. Concern about the C&D warred with the Aaron and Gavin’s voices etched into her memory as they discussed the best way to tie her to one of her own chairs.

  She just had to make it through tonight. As long as things went right, Aaron and Gavin would have their matches, and Cynthia would be a hair away from being financed and putting the sexy men out of her mind.

  Chapter Eight

  CYN’S COMING BY TONIGHT, to discuss matches. I’m swamped with work. If you have a chance, will you look through our dating profile inbox and vet the candidates, for anyone who catches your eye?

  Gavin smiled when he read Aaron’s email, and sent back a quick, I’m on it.

  It wasn’t so much that he was looking forward to seeing who Cynthia’s system paired them with, though he was curious. It was more that he wanted to spend several hours digging through the details and guessing at how she made the process work.

  He opened the site and navigated to their inbox. The (1) in the trash can caught his attention, and he clicked. His smile grew when he saw the contents. Isn’t that interesting? She’d wait until last.

  He sifted through names, details, images, and preferences. There had to be things Cynthia was taking into consideration on the back end that she didn’t display on the site. Not all of the questions she’d asked were reflected here. No matter how many angles he hit the details from, he couldn’t make sense of how she did it.

  A new text chimed on Gavin’s phone, and he grabbed the device. He stared at the time in surprise. How was it almost seven? He read the message from Aaron.

  Running late. Entertain Cyn until I get there?

  Gavin typed, Entertain? Is that open to interpretation?

  As long as you share the details after.

  Gavin smirked. He wouldn’t jeopardize Aaron’s business prospects that way, regardless of how tempting Cynthia was. Gavin felt even stronger about that now. She had a brilliant mind, and from everything he saw, she deserved this opportunity.

  A few minutes later, someone rang the doorbell.

  Gavin greeted Cynthia at the door. She wore a slacks-and-jacket suit that tapered down her figure, highlighting every curve without being revealing. It sent his imagination racing. Her hair was pulled up tight. Gorgeous. Though he wouldn’t mind finding out how she looked with the clothes strewn on the floor and her blond locks loose and mussed.

  “Aaron’s running late and sends his apologies.” Gavin stepped aside and opened the door wider. “You’re welcome to reschedule or come back, but if you’ve got an extra hour, you can hang out here.”

  She chewed her bottom lip and furrowed her brow, then stepped inside. “My night is open. I can stick around.”

  He gestured to the living room. “Can I get you anything to drink?”

  “Water would be great. I don’t do alcohol while I’m working.” She perched on the edge of an easy chair, her back straight, ankles crossed, and knees pressed together.

  Water was fine with him. He was more at ease when the temptation wasn’t there. He grabbed her drink and returned seconds later to find her still sitting like she had a rod running up her spine, a smile pasted in place. That wouldn’t do.

  He handed her the glass and sat across from her.

  She never broke eye contact. “I’m glad it’s not as hot as last week.”

  Nope. Wouldn’t do at all. Gavin didn’t blame her for the small talk, but he was looking for a more in-depth con
versation. If he could break the ice fast, maybe Cynthia would relax. “I’m not,” he said.

  “You like it hot?”

  “And sticky. The kind of searing that leaves you breathless.” He ginned when she raised her brows. “Oh. You’re talking about the weather, aren’t you?”

  “I am. Are you always on?” She continued to study him as if she wasn’t sure what she was supposed to do next, but her posture relaxed, and she sat back in the chair.

  “It depends on the company I’m keeping.”

  She almost smiled. “If I were a younger me, fresh out of college and looking to brag about my psychology degree, I’d analyze that statement.”

  The media’s brand of pop-psychology had been the bane of his existence when he was younger. He pushed back the jolt of distaste that rose in his throat. “But because you’re not?”

  “I’m not arrogant enough to do that. Helping you pick a date is a different universe than gauging what makes you tick.”

  This was better. She looked comfortable, and it was the segue he wanted. “Is that why you started your company? A fascination with human psychology?”

  “The Glass Slipper Theory is—”

  “I don’t want the sales pitch.” It only took a few words for him to know he was about to hear something memorized. “I assume it was good enough to sell Aaron. I want your story.”

  “You really don’t. It’s a bit silly and not super flashy.”

  “That sounds like life in general.” Certainly like Gavin’s private life, as opposed to what the media made of him. “I don’t care if it started with a lemonade stand and grew to your first broken heart when the partnership fell apart. I want to hear it.”

  “It’s not even that inspiring.” When she laughed, her eyes crinkled at the corners and pink dotted her cheeks. A blush of amusement. “The sales pitch tells the whole story, but in a prettier wrapper. The reality is thanks to a series of... debates I had with my best friend in college.” The shadow of a frown crossed her face. It vanished so quickly he might have imagined it. “The result was that I said love was a set of emotions that could be controlled, driven, and directed. It was predictable. She called me a cynic. I told her I’d prove it.”