Match Made

1. Prologue

Prologue

MatchMade Dating Systems: Portland Offices

“ W hat’s he like ?” Annette Jenkins, a bubbly blond in a gray and white airline uniform and off-duty sneakers, repeated the question in a tone that suggested it was the most bizarre thing she’d ever been asked.

She chewed on her lower lip as she thought about the question.

Then she tried repeating it with a slightly different inflection, as if that would help. “What is he like?”

Next to her, Fred Garrison, a dark-haired man who looked like he’d not even considered sneakers that morning, consulted his—undeniably perfect—manicure before he offered up.

“He’s a pilot.”

Annette nodded her agreement with that. She added, “He’s handsome.”

Fred held his hand up and gave it an unconvinced wobble. “Eh.”

“He’s good-looking,” Annette acknowledged the correction without missing a beat. She was on a roll now. “He owns property, is close with his family, he’s got a cat, and he’s good with money. I mean, you could say he’s the total package.”

She sat back in the chair and looked satisfied with her contribution. Fred thought about it for a second and then nodded his agreement.

“I mean, yeah,” he said. “It’s just that…inside the package is an asshole.”

Annette opened her mouth to argue, but then shrugged instead.

On the other side of his (new!) desk, Hunter looked at the notes he’d short-handed into his (new!) MatchMade branded notepad with his satisfactorily clicky branded pen (he’d picked that up at his interview, actually).

It was the first question on the client onboarding form.

It was his first client.

He really needed this job.

“OK,” he said. “I’ve got all that. Ah, so…what does Quentin look for in a relationship?”

They looked at each other.

“Cock?” Annette suggested.

Fred nodded, shrugged a shoulder, and elaborated. He gestured at head height with one hand, then dropped it to his waist. “That’s Quentin. Condescending on top, cock on bottom.”

OK.

Hunter wasn’t sure if he could put that into the system or not. But he wrote it down anyhow. It was good to know, he guessed, if he was going to make sure this guy found the love of his life. It didn’t sound like it was going to be easy.

He really needed this job, Hunter reminded himself as he turned the page on his notebook and summoned up a customer service smile.

“And, just for our records, why do you want to help Quentin find love?” he asked.

Fred and Annette looked at each other and then at him, with matched expressions of confusion.

“He’s our friend,” Fred said. “We want him to be happy.”

Annette nodded. “That’s right,” she said and then leaned forward to gesture at Joe’s notes for him to add the next part. “Also, it would be great if you could just make it complicated enough that he won’t have time to judge our love lives?”

“Oh, yeah. Good one,” Fred said. He gave Annette a complimentary pat on the arm before he turned back to Hunter. “She’s right. That’s important. Write that bit down.”

Hunter kept the smile up and did just that.

Make it complicated.