Page 14 of Pucking Your Best Friend

Maddie opened her mouth, but no words came out. She had dozens of things to say, wanted to fight, to tell her all the reasons why she was better than her competition…but she didn’tknow how. She hated confrontation, and Ms. Geller looked so determined that there was no point in trying any harder. Geller wouldn’t believe her, anyway, because her fledgling dating agency was too small.

“Okay. Thank you very much,” Maddie said quietly and stood. “If you change your mind…”

“Of course,” she cut her off, her gaze already back on her computer, before adding inattentively, “Can you find your way out?”

Maddie nodded and left the office.

With her lips pursed, she walked to the elevators, her heart pounding painfully in her chest. This was supposed to be her big break, the reward for all her hard work over the past year. It was meant to be the moment she could stop lying to her sisters and dad when she told them Match Me! was a complete success.

Technically, they were successful. They had brought dozens of couples together. However, most of them were older ladies and gentlemen who thought an iPad was a bandage for the eye. Maddie was happy to help them and make their lives a little sweeter – but they didn’t bring in a lot of money. She knew that younger generations preferred to use apps. They had a good online presence, so anyone who didn’t want to didn’t have to seek personal advice. Her questionnaire and algorithm worked that well. The problem was that it wasn’t well known. And she wanted to fix that with a high-profile client like Simone Geller!

God, a year of sleepless nights and she was back to square one. Her savings was almost depleted. Rent in Santa Monica wasn’t exactly cheap.

“Shit,” she whispered as she stepped into the elevator and rubbed her eyes.

She was annoyed. So annoyed. Ms. Geller, the woman who worked eight hours a day, even on Sundays, could use someone to turn her life upside down. And she even had a candidateready. Sam Cho, an elementary school teacher with a great sense of humor who, at first glance, didn’t seem to fit, but was tough and sweet, and collected records, and she’d felt this tingling sensation when she thought about introducing the two of them, which was always a good sign and…shit. She shouldn’t think about it. It was too late. She’d been fired before she’d even gotten the job.

“Shit,” she repeated, louder this time. God, she was so sick of it. Every time she thought she’d made progress, she fell flat on her face!

She was almost thirty, single for five years, and hadn’t had sex in just as long. She was renting a tiny apartment that was only affordable because it was falling apart more each day. Her business would only last two or three months before it went under. She spent most of her free time with a sixty-five-year-old man — her dad, who hadn’t been able to take care of himself since her mother died a few years ago. Or didn’t want to take care of himself. Yeah, he didn’t want to.

Man, if her life wasn’t the definition of sad, then she didn’t know what was!

She closed her eyes, took a deep breath, and pulled herself together. It didn’t matter. All was not lost. She could still turn things around. Somehow.

With a stale taste in her mouth and a rock in her stomach, she walked through the underground parking garage to her twenty-year-old Fiat Punto, which looked like it was about to lose its hood. She ignored the messages from her business partner and best friend, Hailey. She couldn’t bring herself to disappoint her right now. Instead, she wanted to use the weekly drive to her dad’s to think up a motivational speech in which she would explain in detail why the failed contract did not mean their downfall. Unfortunately, she wasn’t a talented liar, so she’d need to practice!

Groaning, she left the garage in the Fiat. She took her time shopping for her dad and then took him the groceries.

“You’re late today!” he greeted her grumpily. “I’m starving.”

Sighing, she pushed past him into the kitchen, which looked as if a family of bears had ravaged it. She’d have to do a round of cleaning before she left. “Dad, you have two hands, two legs, and a credit card,” she replied kindly. “You could have gone shopping yourself.”

“Today is not a good day,” he said, shaking his head. “I don’t feel...good.”

Yes. That was generally the story, the previous few years. “Okay. Then you can use the time I spend cleaning and tidying up to take a shower.” She looked at his straggly gray hair.

“Hm,” he muttered and turned and walked into the living room. Twenty seconds later, she heard the TV.

She took a deep breath, closed her eyes for a few moments, and started preparing a vegetable casserole that her father could eat for a few days and thus get vitamins that his usual fare of energy drinks and frozen pizza simply didn’t provide. Then, she took out the trash and started to load the dishwasher when her cell phone rang. It wasn’t Hailey, but Rachel.

She swiftly set the dishes down and swiped right on the phone. Her oldest sister lived in Chicago and rarely called. When she did, Maddie always picked up.

“Hey, Maddie. I’m so sorry, but I won’t be able to visit you in a few weeks. Probably not for Christmas either. I’m overbooked with one appointment after the next.”

Maddie pursed her lips. She had changed her mind; now she wished she hadn’t answered the call. She hadn’t seen Rachel in person in almost two years! Besides, Rachel was a psychotherapist and could probably help her father best, or at least get him to seek help, which they had failed to do for years. If she was overscheduled already, though…

“Okay. That’s a shame,” she said. “Maybe in January?”

“I’ll try, okay? I’m truly sorry. I have to go now. Give Dad and Lucy a hug for me.” The next moment she hung up.

Maddie put the phone down and stared at the screen. Great. Just great.

When she made her way back to the office an hour later, she was tired and in a bad mood. They had lost out on an important client. Her father hadn’t showered. Rachel wasn’t going to come and help. The supermarket hadn’t had her favorite giant marshmallows. This day was enough to make her feel ill. Not even the sight of the ocean lifted her spirits. She loved the beach, the water, and the salty air, and they usually managed to sweep all her worries away.

She had been lucky to find the small office less than fifty yards from the Santa Monica Pier that offered a clear view of the Ferris wheel, the Pacific Ocean, and a few palm trees right outside the door. It belonged to the same old, hunched-over woman who rented her the apartment. She owned most of the buildings on this street except for the law firm at the end. As far as she knew, the owners of O’Leary & Stone had bought the building from her.

The building Match Me! was in had a light blue, peeling facade with huge white shutters that she never closed because they would obscure the agency’s logo on the large picture windows.

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