Page 3 of July
3
Charity
Ican’t believe I let that blasted man talk me into staying. If I’m not his match, and I have to watch him go on a date with someone else, I’m liable to embarrass myself by bursting into tears in front of all of these other women. But I’ve never been able to resist his gorgeous baby blues, so when he turned the full blast of their power on me and asked so politely for me not to leave, I was an instant goner.
Despite his belief that we’re perfect for each other, chances are slim that I’ll actually be his best match. All we seem to do is hurt each other, but there are several other women here who would make wonderful candidates to date him. My undeniable explosive physical chemistry with him doesn’t mean that we are well-suited for each other outside the bedroom. Our dramatic, heartbreaking history proves that.
When I resume my chair at the table, a couple of the women give me odd looks, but they are too polite to ask why I left so abruptly or returned almost as quickly. I give Phoebe a quick nod, and she smoothly begins her presentation––effectively pulling the unwanted attention away from me.
“Ladies, as you can see, Garrett is an absolute dreamboat,” Phoebe starts. I stare down at the table as she continues, “Not only is he good-looking, charming, and successful, but he’s also a wonderful father to a sweet, adorable little boy. I know some of you marked on your surveys that children were a hard pass, so I have excluded your results from the matching pool.”
A couple of the other women at the table deflate as if they are rethinking their decision not to consider a bachelor with a child. I’m secretly thrilled that I didn’t mark the checkbox to exclude fathers from my potential matches. The competition for the date with Garrett has just decreased. My brain knows that I shouldn’t be hoping to be his best match, but my heart can’t bear watching him ride off into the sunset with another woman––again.
Obviously not sensing my internal battle, Garrett places a possessive hand on the back of my chair. I don’t have to turn around to know that he is hovering just behind me. I can feel the radiating heat of him on my back. I’ve always been hyper-sensitive to his nearness. Apparently, time and distance haven’t decreased that in the slightest because my nerve endings are prickling with tingly awareness over every breath he takes.
Phoebe continues her spiel. “The lucky lady who is the best match for Garrett is…”
Holly reaches over to grab my hand as the other ladies around our table and at the winners’ circle table begin tapping a drumroll with their palms. Phoebe drags out the suspense much longer than necessary. I’m desperate to hear my name called, yet terrified of it at the same time.
“Holly!” Phoebe finally announces.
Our clasped hands squeeze tighter together––Holly’s in excitement and mine in severe disappointment. When I turn to face my new friend, her pretty face is lit up with delight.
I try not to let the devastation show in my facial expression or tone when I give her a brittle smile and say, “Congratulations.”
Garrett isn’t nearly as subtle as I have tried to be. He barks at Phoebe, “Are you certain? There must be some type of mistake. She can’t possibly be a better match for me than Charity is.”
When I turn to the side and see the thrilled smile fall from Holly’s face, I feel bad for her. As much as I want Garrett for myself, I can’t stand seeing anyone else hurt in the process. Kindhearted Holly doesn’t deserve to be anyone’s second choice.
I’m summoning my strength to turn around and tell Garrett that he needs to accept the results and be a gentleman about it when Phoebe’s eyes widen and she squeaks, “Oh, no!”
All eyes turn to the head of the table. The color has completely drained from Phoebe’s face. She looks directly at Holly when she says, “I got busy and forgot to add the newest batch of surveys into the tabulations. You may still be his best match, but to be fair, I should run the calculations again and include all of the eligible applicants.”
“Of course,” Holly says, being a good sport about the mistake.
Addressing the entire table, Phoebe says, “Just a moment, everyone. I’m going to let the app recalculate.”
She taps new instructions into her phone and waits for the algorithm to run.
I was one of the late submissions because it took Summer a while to convince me to come here tonight. If my results are a better match with Garrett than Holly’s, I might still be able to go on the date with him tonight.
I hold my breath as we wait for the recalculated results––unsure whether to hope I am his best match or pray that I’m not. We only seem to bring each other pain, but that doesn’t stop me from loving him.
When Phoebe finally looks up from her phone, her tortured gaze goes directly to Holly when she says, “I’m so sorry for the mistaken announcement. You’re not actually Garrett’s best match.”
Holly and I are still clutching hands, so I give hers a reassuring squeeze. She puts on a brave face when she answers in a shaky tone, “It’s okay. No problem.”
I can’t imagine how disappointed she must be. My heart goes out to her, while at the same time, it hammers frantically in my chest with the hope that I might be Garrett’s true match.
“You’re sure?” Phoebe asks her, obviously feeling terrible about the mistake.
“Yep. No harm done,” Holly assures her.
“Okay, then. Thank you for your understanding.” Phoebe gives her a genuine smile. At Holly’s nod, Phoebe turns to the table at large and continues, “Sorry for that false alarm. Garrett’s true match is…”
This time, nobody drumrolls as we wait. Garrett’s hand comes up and lightly squeezes my shoulder. Heat travels down my spine at that simple touch. My entire focus centers around that connection between us as I wait for Phoebe to make the announcement.
Finally, she says, “Charity!”
