Page 12 of Matched with Her Runaway Groom

Tiffany scowls at me. “Drew says he likes breakfast food.”

“Take it from me. A person can only handle the same food for a few weeks before it will be forever blacklisted in his or her brain.”

“That’s why this vacation is a good idea. Then we’ll both get a break from eggs and toast.”

“I like the idea of us sipping drinks with umbrellas on a beach somewhere.” It’s like the ultimate happy spot in my crappy week.

Tiffany nods. “Sounds like a plan. But in the meantime, you’re going to need to ration out the number of Kelly Clarkson songs you listen to, okay?”

“What can I say? Kelly Clarkson has some stellar music you can just scream or cry along with,” I say, turning back to the computer screen.

“Yeah, but she’s like straight barbeque sauce when you can balance it out with other songs, like ranch.”

I shake my head. “That doesn’t make sense.”

“It did in my head.” She grins and walks toward the door. “Okay, I’ve got to get to the store, I guess. Maybe my husband won’t die from eating too much cereal while I’m gone.”

I turn up the radio even louder, blasting one of my favorites, Breakaway by Kelly.

It might not take away the fresh wave of pain from seeing Landon earlier today, but it will help me focus until I make it to paradise.

CHAPTER4

Landon

This is the first time I’ve been in my office all week. It’s only Wednesday, but with paint balling the day before and all the client appointments I’ve met, I feel like I’ve been constantly running.

Maybe I’ve been avoiding my thoughts too. There’s so much to unpack with Rachelle. From her response at seeing me yesterday, I’ll probably have to climb Mt. Everest for her to see how sorry I am and take me back.

And I do want that. More than I realized.

Having Rachelle in my life was an adventure, not because we traveled the world together, but because I knew I could take on anything with her by my side. She helped me through all the ups and downs after losing my dad and came over late to hang out after I got off work. Those were long days, but I had to help my mom pay the bills. Feeding five kids and keeping the heat on is a lot of work. And while my mom still works with my grandfather’s company, it doesn’t cover all the expenses of three daughters still at home and their extracurricular activities.

There’s a knock at my office door and I glance up with my real estate smile, trying to place the man standing there. His face is familiar, but speeding through my memories, I still can’t place him.

From the clear glass of my office, I see Clara Turner, the office secretary, running toward my door. “I’m sorry, Landon. This is Roman Hamilton, owner of the company. I was on a call or I would’ve gotten here sooner.”

“No worries, Clara. Thanks.”

“It’s good to meet you, sir,” I say, standing from my desk and making my way toward him. “What brings you to Boston?”

The owner of the Hamilton Group, who lives in London, or somewhere in Europe, is here in my office. I’m only a team lead who’s been in Boston for the past two months. Is he looking for the Boston branch manager? My brain scrambles for anything I might’ve done to get into trouble.

I wave him in and shake his hand. The man has a firm grip, to where I’m wondering if there will be any feeling left in my fingers again. I motion toward a seat in front of my desk, but I’m still reeling that he’s here. At least he doesn’t look like he’s ready to yell at me for anything, like when I worked with my grandfather.

“I’ve come to Boston to get ready for the company’s cruise.” His deep British accent verifies his identity, at least for me anyway. There’s a large scar on the side of his face, but everything else about him is very put together. I’d guess his suits are more than I’ve made in the past year as an agent with this company.

“That’s great,” I say, pulling some papers together and tapping them into order on the desk. “You don’t have cruises closer to the company’s headquarters?” I clamp my mouth shut, wishing I could fish those words out of the air and swallow them.

Roman smiles and nods. “We’ve already done another excursion for the European team. But my wife thought it would be a good idea to treat the employees here in the states with a cruise.”

There’s nothing left to organize on my desk. I try to keep eye contact while guessing where the chair is and end up missing the edge, falling onto my butt before I can catch myself. Pens and pencils land on my head.

Smooth, Landon. Real smooth.

Roman is up within a second and around the desk. He reaches out a hand to me, ignoring my embarrassment. “How are you finding life here at the Hamilton Group? I know you transferred up here several weeks ago from the Chicago office.”

“It’s great, I love it.” I casually sit down on my chair, making sure I’m firmly on the seat. Pens and pencils cover the desk and I pick them up, trying not to picture the downfall of the S.S. Landon.

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