Page 77 of The Matchmaker

Borzu pulls open the cabinet above his desk and grabs a flip phone encased in plastic and tosses it to me.

In my office, I settle into my chair and wrestle with the packaging. I let out a yelp as my fingernail chips. Cursing, I grab a pair of scissors and tear through the plastic. I look down at the black flip phone. This is my life now. I am someone’s prey—weaving and bobbing, trying to survive.

Darcy steps inside my office to go over my agenda for the day. My iPhone buzzes. My heart leaps into my throat. I quickly grab the device, hoping it’s Azar. But it’s not. It’s a text from a client. He’s asking to reschedule our meeting that was set for next week.

“We’ve kept your schedule pretty light,” Darcy tells me as she scans her tablet. “But you do have two weddings coming up. Do you want to still attend?”

“We’ll need to cancel,” I tell her. “Can we send them some fine chocolate and our regrets?”

“You got it.” She scrolls her device. “Shahin’s wedding was up next.”

“The one on Jekyll Island?” I feel a pinch ofdisappointment. I’d been looking forward to that one. Azar was going to go with me. I’d booked us adjoining rooms.

Other than the occasional text message check-in, we haven’t spoken since my discharge from the hospital. I wonder if he rescheduled his romantic getaway. Maybe that’s where he is right now.

“I’ll send Shahin your regrets,” Darcy says.

“I’ll call her myself,” I tell her.

“You sure?” Darcy asks. “She’s going to be pissed.”

“She is. That’s why I think it’s best if she hears it from me.”

When I call her an hour later, Shahin picks up on the third ring.

“How are wedding preparations going?” I ask.

“Well, thank you.”

There’s a moment of silence. I realize she’s not going to elaborate.

“I wanted to let you know that unfortunately I won’t be able to make it to the wedding. I’ve been in a car accident—I’m fine!—but there are a lot of loose ends I have to deal with. I’m sorry. I was really looking forward to being there.”

“Thanks for letting me know.”

That’s it? I’d prepared myself for her trademark dramatic gasp. A plea for me to attend at all costs. Before I can tell her she can pass along my contact information to her friends, she speaks again.

“You caught me at a bad time. We will miss you at the wedding. Be well.”

The call ends. I stare at my phone. Before I can put it down, it rings again. It’s Erica—otherwise known around the office as Yoga Lady. We chatted last week. She took my advice to get a life coach and had just given her two weeks’ notice at herconsulting firm, where she was perennially unhappy. I have a list of matches for our next meeting, but maybe she has follow-up questions. This is usually the point in the timeline when people grow antsy.

“I’m afraid I don’t have an update since last time we spoke,” I tell her once we’ve dispelled with the usual formalities. “But I’ll have a robust list of eligible bachelorettes for you when it’s time for our call next week.”

“That’s…that’s not why I’m calling.” There’s a stretch of silence. “This isn’t going to work out,” she finally says. “I can’t do this anymore.”

For a moment I think she’s having second thoughts about quitting her job.

“I appreciate everything you’ve done,” she continues. “The life coach was a blessing. You helped me figure out so much.”

But.

“I’ve decided to take a break from matchmaking.”

You were begging me to speed up the process last week.

“I’d love to know what happened,” I manage to say. “If there’s been some sort of misunderstanding, we can talk through it, clear up any concerns you might have.”

“It’s nothing like that. I want to take a different tack, is all.”

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