Page 99 of The Matchmaker
She shrugs, setting out more wine glasses. “When you know, you know, right? He didn’t seem too upset about it.”
“Youtoldhim you didn’t like him?”
She looks up as though finally realizing how horrified I am. “What was I supposed to do? Ghost him? He was fine with it.”
“Nush, you’re supposed to give him a chance! You’re supposed to talk for a few hours and get to know each other.”
“We talked,” she says defensively. “I showed him a picture of Chester. He told me about his trip to Thailand. We had zero chemistry and his phone kept going off. He had the volumeon, Katie. I haven’t taken my phone off silent in twelve years, and his was just dinging away with every news alert and weather report in the world. You expect me to spend an evening with someone like that? I’m too pretty. I refuse.”
“But…” I’m oddly stung by her rejection of him. “He ticked all your boxes.”
“Yeah, but it’s more about the spark, isn’t it? It’s fine,” she adds at the look on my face. “I already found someone else.”
“What? Who?”
She nods across the room, and I’m startled to see the woman from outside, the one who’d been chatting with Callum, has wandered back in, tapping her fingers against her now empty glass.
“Her name’s Monica. Did you see how straight her shoulders are?”
“You can’t have her! That’s someone else’s match. And how do you even know her name?”
“I’ve already talked to her. She didn’t get on with her match either. Your grandmother really needs to up her game.”
“That doesn’t matter,” I say, deciding not to point out that I was the one who matched her. “You’re not allowed to steal matches. And she’s blonde,” I point out. “You said you didn’t want a blonde.”
“I didn’t say that. I just said I’d prefer dark hair.” Her attention strays back to the woman. “And kind eyes.”
“And she has kind eyes, does she?”
Nush nods. “And great legs.”
“Oh my God,Nush.”
“It’s not a rule!” she exclaims. “I’m allowed to flirt. I can’t help that I’m good at it.”
I fight back a groan as both of us turn Monica’s way, only to find her staring at us. She turns around immediately when we do, pretending to be fascinated by one of our posters.
Fine.
“You can flirt,” I say, reaching under the bar for the ice bucket. “Nothing more.”
“Aye, aye, captain.”
“But first, could you grab me some…I didn’t mean flirt with hernow, Nush. I need you to—”Annndshe’s gone. I glare at her back as she weaves through the crowd and turn back to the impatient-looking man in front of me. “Hi. What can I get you?”
I spend the next ten minutes pouring drink after drink with no sign of Adam returning. It’s busy and for every person I greet, three more are there trying to make eye contact with me. I haven’t even made a dent in the crowd by the time Granny finds me.
“What are you doing in here?” I ask, as I pour a glass of Prosecco for a woman who looks like she’s already had three. “You’re supposed to be outside checking in on the matches.”
“And you’re supposed to be basking in your glory, not running around like a headless chicken.” She’s dressed up in a red velvet dress, and matching purse, one which she slams down beside me, making two men next to her jump.
“We’ve got no one on the bar,” I mutter, grabbing a pint glass.
“I’ll be on the bar.”
Funny. “It’s fine. Adam will be back any minute now. I just need to—”
“You think I don’t know how to make a gin and tonic?” she barks, shooing me aside. “I’ve been pouring drinks long before your father was a twinkle in my eye. I think I’ll manage.”
