Page 2 of His Royal Matchmaker

Their hands find each other, fingers intertwining with the easy familiarity of two people who’ve found their missing piece. The gesture sends a small pang through me — not jealousy exactly, but longing.

“December in Barcelona,” Ricardo says. “Small ceremony, just family and close friends.”

“Which includes you,” Leonie adds quickly. “We wouldn’t be getting married at all if not for you.”

Ricardo nods, his expression suddenly serious. “You changed my life, Emily. I was so stubborn, so sure I knew what I wanted.” He looks at Leonie with such naked adoration that I have to glance away, feeling like I’m intruding on something private. “I had no idea what I was missing.”

“You two did all the hard work,” I say softly. “I just made the introduction.”

A photographer approaches, her camera hanging around her neck like an extra appendage. Her hair is a severe blond bob, her lips a thin line of professional efficiency rather than emotion. “Mr. Ruiz, we need some shots of you and Ms. Morales forVanity Fair,” she says, not even glancing in my direction.

I take a step back, preparing to blend into the background like I usually do.

But Ricardo’s hand shoots out, catching my wrist. “Wait, Emily. You should be in these photos too.” He turns to the photographer. “This is Emily Neale. She’s the reason Leonie and I are together.”

The photographer’s expression doesn’t change, but her eyes flick over me with new interest. “The matchmaker?” she asks.

He nods enthusiastically. “Our guardian-angel matchmaker. I want her in the shots.”

The photographer shrugs. “Fine by me. The three of you, over by that backdrop.”

Nova gives me a double thumbs-up, signaling me to go for it.

The commands come rapid-fire, and I try to follow along, smiling when told to smile, turning when told to turn. Ricardoand Leonie are naturals, shifting positions smoothly while keeping me included.

Two years ago, he was Hollywood’s most notorious bachelor — a different woman on his arm at every premiere, a new rumored fling every month. Magazines speculated about his commitment issues, and late-night hosts made jokes about his dating history.

What none of them knew was how afraid he was of ending up like his parents — trapped in a loveless marriage, staying together for appearances while living separate lives. His sister Carmen saw through the playboy façade to the lonely man beneath. She was the one who came to me, determined to help her brother find real love.

Ricardo was my most reluctant client ever. Our first consultation consisted mainly of him listing reasons why matchmaking was a waste of time. And now look at him, completely committed and in love.

I step away from the photos and rejoin Nova, waiting as Ricardo and Leonie finish their final press obligations.

“You’re about to blow up,” Nova says.

“Huh?” I feel my brow furrow.

“Once those pictures go up…” She nods sagely. “Trust me. You think you’re busy now…”

My eyelashes flutter. My work is my life, but can I really handle any more business?

The couple of the moment stand close together, Ricardo’s thumb absently stroking the inside of Leonie’s wrist as she answers a question. It’s such a small gesture, unconscious and intimate, revealing the comfortable connection between them. WhenLeonie laughs at something the reporter says, Ricardo watches her with such passion that my throat tightens.

I did that. I created that connection. I looked at two people who seemed completely wrong for each other on paper — the international movie star and the hardworking baker who wakes up at three a.m. — and saw the potential for something real.

So why does watching them hurt a little?

“Earth to Emily.” Nova waves her hand in front of my face. “Where’d you go?”

I blink, realizing I’ve been staring. “Sorry. Just… thinking.”

She studies me for a moment, her expression softening. “About what?”

I sigh. “Is it terrible to admit that sometimes I get a little jealous? Not of them specifically, but of what they have?”

“The matchmaker wanting a match of her own? Shocking.” Her tone is teasing, but her eyes are kind.

“I love my job,” I say quickly. “I love helping people find their person. It’s the best feeling in the world.”

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