Page 103 of The Matchmaker
“What?” he asks, when she doesn’t say anything. “You don’t like the tux?”
She shakes her head and then, as if realizing what she’s doing, starts to nod. Great. She’s officially going back into panic mode.
“Where’s her match?” I ask Bridget, keeping my voice low. “Is he inside?”
“What?”
“Gemma’s match. You said he signed in.”
“He did.”
“Then where is he?”
Bridget just stares at me. “I can’t tell if you’re joking or not,” she says eventually. “You know I’m bad at jokes.”
“What are you—”
She jabs a finger at the list, right under Gemma’s name, before sliding it across to…
Shit.
“You’re kidding me,” I say, glaring at Adam’s name. “I’m going to kill Granny. I’m actually going to do it this time. It’s not like we had a shortage of sign-ups.”
“Sssh,” Bridget says, nodding toward the other two.
“You knew it was me?” Gemma asks.
“I looked at the list,” Adam admits. “I assumed you did as well. Thought you were going to leave me hanging.”
“Yeah, well. I’m still considering it.” She smooths out her dress again, a move I’m beginning to realize is a nervous tic. “This is weird, right?”
“It doesn’t have to be,” he says. “We can pretend we’re two strangers, just like everyone else.”
“We can’t do that.”
“Why not?”
“Because I’ve known you my whole life?” She shakes her head. “Don’t you want a real match?” she asks eventually, and he huffs like she said something funny.
“Come on, Gem. It’s you.” And then, so quietly I almost miss it, “It’s always been you.”
I watch in confusion as he holds out his hand, closing the distance between them. Gemma doesn’t do anything at first and then slowly, like he might snatch it away, she takes it in hers.
“Look at us,” he says. “We’re already good at it.”
That gets a smile from her, though it’s more of her usual smirk, and at the sight of it, Adam grins so wide it’s all I can do not to stare at him. Who is this man and what did he do with my grumpy boss?
Bridget watches the whole thing with barely disguised glee. “I knew it.”
“What do you mean, you knew it?” I whisper.
“They like each other.”
“No, they don’t. I mean, they do, but not like that. They fight like cats and dogs half the time they’re together. They’re not going to last five minutes.”
“Oh, honey.”
“What?”
