Page 8 of Steel Beauty

Our conversation flows effortlessly—more laughter, more shared stories. Time slips by, and I’m fairly certain I already know Julius Caesar better than I ever knew the last guy I dated. He’s completely ready to meet his match, and honestly, the lucky woman who matched with him is going to adore him.

Finally, Sophie pokes her head in again, this time giving me the signal that the female client has arrived.

“Well, looks like it’s time for me to go,” I say, rising to my feet and straightening my clothes. “Your Soul Sync match is here.”

“Oh,” he says, a hint of hesitation coloring his words. “I enjoyed talking to you,Charleston. Thanks for sticking around and helping calm my nerves.”

“I enjoyed our talk too.”

“Thanks for the practice run. And hey, maybe I’ll bump into you again,” he says with a touch of humor.

It’s unlikely, considering we don’t know each other’s names or what the other looks like. “Good luck with your match, Caesar. I’m sure it’ll go well,” I say, offering a final smile he can’t see. Then, without looking back, I slip quietly out of the suite.

Just as I’m about to pull the door shut, his voice echoes behind me, “If you bump into Cleopatra out there, let her know Caesar is keeping the empire in order in here.”

I bite down on my laughter, rolling my eyes as I walk down the hallway. Well, at least he has a sense of humor about all this.

Oh, Cleopatra, you’re in for a real treat with this one.

Chapter3

Alex Sebring

The sky shiftsto shades of lavender and orange, the sun dipping toward the horizon in a slow, deliberate goodbye. Once, moments like this would have slipped past unnoticed, buried under the constant rush of practice schedules, game-day pressures, and the relentless pursuit of perfection. Back then, life was a blur of noise and motion, leaving no space for quiet reflection or something as simple as watching daylight fade into purple and gold. Now, with time stretching wide and unhurried, the stillness feels unfamiliar—like rediscovering a part of myself I didn’t know I’d lost.

I take a slow sip of wine. As expected, it’s excellent—Jack McLachlan’s wine never misses. With vineyards across Australia and New Zealand, the man knows the grape. His bottles are top-tier, the kind that makes you pause and appreciate the moment.

Our dads have been friends for as long as I can remember, so Jack and I have always known each other. We weren’t close growing up—him being ten years older and me just the kid tagging along. But that changed about five years ago. Maybe I’d finally grown up, or maybe Jack started seeing me as more than a kid. Either way, he’s become one of the few people I can always count on.

Jack flips the shanks on the grill, the scent of rosemary and sizzling lamb filling the air. “How’s the shiraz?”

“Excellent as always,” I say before taking another sip.

He nods, satisfied, and turns back to the grill. “Glad you approve.”

This is what life should feel like—good food, great wine, and even better company.

The McLachlan kids are splashing in the nearby pool, their laughter and shouting rising above the soft hum of music. Four of them—healthy and full of life.

The youngest, a five-year-old girl, paddles in the shallow end with floaties on her arms, squealing whenever one of the twins splashes her.

Sitting off to the side with her feet dipping in the water is the oldest—a girl who just turned nine. Her brown hair, the exact shade as Laurelyn’s, clings to her face in damp strands. She hums softly along with the music playing in the background, lost in her own little world, her grin a replica of Jack’s.

The twin boys, identical in every way, wrestle each other on a pool float, their boisterous energy sending waves in every direction.

And then there’s Laurelyn. She’s one of those people who makes you feel at ease the moment you’re around her. And when she sings, it’s something else entirely. Simply special.

Jack has what most people only dream of—a loving wife, great kids, agenuinelyhappy life, not just a show for others to admire. Watching them, I realize how much I want that too—a family of my own, a place to belong.

Jack once shared the story of how he and Laurelyn met, and it’s stuck with me ever since. Their introduction was far from ordinary—messy, complicated, and nothing like a typical romance. It didn’t follow any of the usual rules, but somehow, it worked. Against all odds, Jack found the person who is perfect for him.

And if that could work for them, then maybe my unconventional route isn’t so crazy after all. If meeting through a matchmaking service can lead me to the kind of connection Jack and Laurelyn have, it’ll all be worth it.

Jack’s phone buzzes on the table between us, pulling me out of my thoughts. He glances down at the screen, raising a brow. “It’s Chloe.”

He wipes his hands on a towel, tossing it over his shoulder with a casual flick. “Sorry, mate. I’ve gotta take this one.”

“All good here,” I give him a nod. “Go on and take the call.”

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