Page 6 of The Matchmaker's Melody
“Interesting and useful. That’s what I want to be,” she commented to no one in particular.
Phil approached her. “I’ve been curious how you got your start. How did you get enough followers? Getting off the ground is always the challenging part. What is it they say? ‘The best way to become famous is to be famous’.”
Of course. He was in advertising. It made sense he’d be interested. “It’s all about connecting with people,” she began. “It’s a lot of hard work, and you’ve got to be authentic. And it helps knowing people. But this is what I did…”
It was too easy to get lost in a conversation, especially when it was about something she was so passionate about. And passion was one of the things necessary for becoming an influencer.
“If people don’t believe you,” she proclaimed as they wandered back along the boardwalk to the very end near the water treatment plant with its massive Victorian facade, “you’re doomed before you begin. You have to be all in, and you have to really believe it yourself. People can spot a phoney from a mile off. I will never give advice to the people who write in without doing my homework. And I’ll never push a product I don’t know a ton about and that I don’t think is amazing. Authenticity and honesty are absolutely key. Now, about authenticity, that’s as much what’s inside you as the image you cultivate…”
And she was off again. It was so easy to talk about this, about how she honed and refined her public image, and how it reflected her private image as well. She had so very much to say, so much valuable information for Phil, that time just slipped away. By the time she had covered just the very basics, they had passed the water treatment plant and had made it all the way up to Queen Street, the two of them talking away and Halli trailing a few steps behind.
“Oh my God, Halli, I’m sorry.” Emma exclaimed, once she realised what had happened. “I didn’t mean to run on like this. Today was supposed to be about you.”
Phil, oddly, said nothing, but Halli just smiled.
“It’s okay. It was really interesting to listen to. You two have a lot in common.”
“Yeah, we do—” Phil began, but Emma shook her head.
“It’s just work stuff. Now, here are all these fun shops. What are you interested in? Let’s go browsing, and then we’ll find somewhere for lunch if it’s not too crowded. There’s a great pub down by the old fire station.”
They passed the rest of the day pleasantly. They enjoyed their pub lunch, went wandering through Kew Garden, listened to a rather good jazz ensemble playing as part of a music festival, and eventually wended their way back to the car. Emma made an effort to include Halli in the conversation, and gradually the young woman crept out of her shell. She was still quiet, but she had a lovely sense of humour and she really was very smart. With her pretty face and sweet nature, how could Phil not fall in love with her? Today was just the first step, but Emma knew a perfect match when she saw it, and she was pleased with how things had gone.
* * *
The phone rang justafter dinner the next night.
“Gordon?” She rolled her eyes as she saw the name on the screen. “No one uses phones to actually call. Can’t you text like a normal person?”
“Hello to you, too, Emma. You’ve been busy this weekend.” His voice was disapproving, and she could picture his brown eyes narrowing as he spoke.
“What? Are you following me?”
“Only on Instagram. You’re fairly well-known, if you’re the sort to get your information on social media. Someone saw you, snapped you, and tagged you. Isn’t that what you want?”
“Well, yes, but…”
“I’m glad you’re taking some time for Halli, but what’s with that other chap? Phil Elton, right? Did you invite him along? I’ve only had a few words with him, and he didn’t really impress me. He’s out for himself and no one else, from what I could tell.”
“Seriously? Now you’re monitoring and criticising the people I hang out with? Are you reporting this to my mommy as well?”
“Don’t be silly. But what’s going on in your head? You were so smug about fixing up Randall and Taylor, you surely aren’t trying to do the same with Halli and Phil. Are you? Emma, please say you’re not.”
She huffed into the phone. “It is precisely none of your business what I do.”
“And it is precisely none of your business to interfere in other people’s lives. Someone is going to get hurt, and I don’t think it will be Phil. He’s not more than an adequate singer, but he’s a go-getter, and the choir looks good on his resume. He told me as much, so don’t go huffing and puffing. As sweet as Halli is, he’s not the sort to moon over a nineteen-year-old university student with nothing to offer him. He wants to move up, and he wants connections. Halli is very pretty, I’ll grant you, but she doesn’t have connections.”
If they had been together in person, Emma would have thrown her phone at him. What gave him the right to say that?
“Well,” she all but shouted, “for your information, it was his idea to join us. I just mentioned that I was going to show Halli around the city a bit, and he asked to come along. And Halli certainly didn’t have any objections.”
Gordon’s voice grew very quiet. “Are you certain you understood his intentions?”
What the hell was that supposed to mean? Phil wasn’t some stalker or anything. God, Gordon was a bit creepy. And really, she was the one who read people so well, not Gordon. He was just an engineer. He did buildings or stuff, not people. Sheesh!
She gave another huff. “They got along very well together. I know what I’m doing. So you can stop being my party-pooping big brother and go back to ignoring me, like you have since I was five years old.”
“You know that’s not true—” he started, but Emma had heard enough.
