Page 18 of Falling for My Matchmaker

“Oh myGod,” he whined, voice rising. “Youattackedme!”

“I didn’t— You—” I pointed at the fork. “That fell out ofyourjacket.”

“Are you serious?” he shouted. “You just grabbed me in the middle of a restaurant! Overafork?”

“I saw it! You had it!”

“You’re delusional,” Ben snapped. “You always do this—make everything into some twisted story in your head. You need help.”

The maître d’ reached us, already doing damage control. “Is there a problem here, madam?”

I looked down.

At the fork.

It was not in his jacket. Not in my hand. Just lying there, under the table.

“No,” I said gloomily. “No problem.”

Ben turned to the maître d’, clutching his arm like I’d hit him with a frying pan. “She assaulted me. In front of everyone. I want this documented. I’ll be filing a complaint—with the agency, with you, maybe even theauthorities.”

The maître d’ sighed, visibly recalculating his life choices. “Sir, are you in need of medical attention or...perhaps a complimentary dessert?”

“I needjustice!” Ben shouted.

The maître d’ turned to me, eyes wide. “Madam, for legal reasons, I must now ask if that fork was launched in self-defense.”

I planned for a bad date and maybe a bruised ego.

I gotWoman Goes Feral Over Tableware in Midtown Restaurant.

Great. Now I was the unstable exandthe utensil vigilante.

So...progress?

Chapter 6: Green Flags

Nate was already sitting when I walked into the conference room that somehow smelled like eucalyptus and judgment.

He gave me a small, neutral smile. “Hey.”

I sank into the chair across from him like I was taking a seat in court.

“So,” I said. “How fast did the complaint land?”

“About forty-five minutes after you left the restaurant,” he said. “Which, to be fair, is faster than some people text back.”

“Charming.”

He studied me for a moment. “Do you want to talk about what happened?”

“I mean... I didn’tstabhim.”

“Not in the criminal sense, no.”

I stared at him.

Nate set down his tablet and leaned forward slightly. “Look, I read the incident report. I also read the maître d’s notes, which were...impressively neutral for someone who watched a fork skirmish unfold in real time.”

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