Matchmaker - Chapter 17
Saturday
It sounded like Cupcake hadn’t changed at all.
And the innocent, yet slightly crazy, woman in front of me definitely deserved better.
She’d told me the whole story of how they met and how he’d proposed.
But never in her story had she said she was in love.
Because it was Cupcake. How could she be?
“So you married him?” I asked and shook my head.
“What was I supposed to say? No?” She tore off a piece of the complimentary bread and dipped it into the olive oil. Her eyes lit up when she took a bite and she immediately tore off another piece.
“Yes. That’s exactly what you were supposed to say.”
Ash laughed as she finished her second glass of wine and her second roll. “In hindsight, I really wish I had. But he was my first boyfriend and I used to suffer from a severe lack of self-confidence.” She seemed to sit up a little straighter to prove that was no longer the case.
But I wasn’t so sure. Most self-assured women didn’t get naked in a public restroom and offer to blow a stranger a few minutes after meeting them.
I wasn’t complaining though. Ash was freaking hilarious.
I was having a really great night. Just not in the way that Penny had hoped.
Ash and I could be really great friends.
But…nothing more. And I was pretty sure she felt the same way.
Our conversation flowed easily. But there wasn’t any sexual chemistry. I was simply curious about her.
She laughed. “Matt, I take back what I said earlier, you’re an amazing human.”
“Hmm?”
She gestured to the waiter who was carrying over two trays filled to the brim. “You ordered food for me.”
“Yeah, you were taking forever in the bathroom.”
She put her hands up to her ears. “Stop. No, that didn’t happen. We started over, remember?”
I laughed and grabbed her hands, lowering them from her ears. Her eyes locked with mine for a beat. A piece of me wanted to feel some kind of spark. Some draw to her. I felt nothing. I immediately let go of her so that the waiter could serve us our dinner.
“I love when people order food for me,” Ash said as the waiter walked away. “But what the heck is all this?”
“You never told me what you wanted. And you said to just order something a normal person would like. So I ordered a whole bunch of stuff a normal person might like.”
She looked around at all the food that had just been put down on our table. Plate after plate after plate. She abandoned the free bread, reached toward the middle, and grabbed a chicken finger from what I was pretty sure was a kid’s meal. “I think this is the best date of my life.”
I raised my eyebrows.
She held up her hand with a laugh. “Don’t freak out. I know this terrible date has been one for the books. But this food?” She groaned. “So freaking good. I could get lost knee deep in a basket of these chicken fingers.”
I laughed. She was adorable like I’d assessed earlier.
And also smart and funny. And pretty. But…
she wasn’t Brooklyn. I wanted to feel something.
I really did. But I just…didn’t. I was very aware of the fact that my heart had stopped working years ago.
I never seemed to feel anything. “So what happened between you and Joe? How did it go from sort of happy to divorce?”
Ash picked up a French fry. “Sort of happy.” She sighed. “That’s the funniest part. I thought I was happy. But looking back? And hearing my friends’ analysis of him. And yours? I don’t know what I ever saw in him. I just want to be loved, you know?”
I pressed my lips together. Yeah, I knew.
“I don’t need to go into specifics about how our relationship imploded. The gist is, Joe cheated on me with an Instamodel. And even though I totally fixed his family business for him and made us a small fortune in the process, he’s trying to leave me with nothing.”
“Have you hired a good lawyer?”
“Yes but there are…extenuating circumstances.” Ash cleared her throat and took another sip of wine. A big, healthy sip that had her reaching for the bottle for a refill.
That was a very weird answer. But honestly, half the stuff that came out of her mouth was weird. Before I could ask what she meant by extenuating circumstances, she changed the topic.
“So how do you know Joe exactly? I’ve just been blabbering on and on about him. But I’m so curious about how a guy like you could possibly be an acquaintance of Joe’s.”
“I went to high school with him.”
“And what was my ex like in high school?”
“A complete asshole, much like he seems to be now. He was hellbent on causing chaos and backstabbing everyone at every turn.”
“That sounds about right.” She paused as she took another bite of a chicken finger.
“Something about the fact that I might be the first person he’s ever cheated on…
makes me feel terrible. Somehow I want to be one of many?
If that makes any sense. I’ve always wanted to ask someone that knew him.
Was he always a cheater? I hear that phrase a lot. Once a cheater, always a cheater.”
“I have no idea.”
“Oh.” She looked down at her chicken finger as she doused it with ketchup.
“But any guy that cheated on you is an idiot, Ash.”
I could see her smile even though she was still concentrating on covering her chicken finger with way too much ketchup.
“If it makes you feel any better, Joe sold drugs and even planted some in my friend’s locker to get him arrested.” I wondered what had happened to Felix. I hadn’t heard from him in years. “Joe was a piece of work.”
“He sold drugs? Are you serious?”
“Yeah, he put them in the cupcakes.”
Her jaw literally dropped. “You don’t think he still…” her voice died away and she shook her head. “He couldn’t be. I oversaw the production.” But she didn’t look entirely convinced.
“Well, you don’t have to worry about it now,” I said. “If he’s still selling, it’s on his hands. Not yours.”
“You’re right. And Joe would not do well in prison. I doubt a prison commissary would sell the fancy hand moisturizer he insists on using. It costs more than my shoes.”
I laughed.
“But his hands are very soft.” She pretended to gag.
I laughed. “So why do you still wear the rings if you’re divorcing that soft-handed prick?”
Ash looked down at her left hand. “I don’t know. Because taking them off means starting over? And I’m too old to start over.”
I didn’t know how old she was. But she looked like she was still in her twenties. If she was too old to start over, then I was doomed. Not that I wanted to start over anyway.
She pulled a plate of lasagna in front of her. “Can I ask you a question?”
I nodded. I didn’t really want to talk about me. Honestly making fun of Cupcake all night sounded a lot better. I looked at the plates and grabbed some ravioli.
“I’ve been dying to know all night. And I don’t want to make you feel weird or anything. But I can’t stand it anymore. Why is your hand blue?”
I looked down at the paint on the back of my hand. And I panicked and said the first thing that popped into my head. “It’s not.”
She laughed. “Um…yes it is. It’s bright blue. Like you dipped it into a bucket of paint or something.”
I shoved a ravioli in my mouth to stall and tried not to choke on it. I took a huge gulp of water. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”
She nodded knowingly. “Oh. I get it. Is it like…some kind of kinky sex thing?”
“What? No.” I looked at my hand. She wasn’t accusing me of being a freak and painting my dead fiancée.
And she didn’t know any of my friends. This would in no way result in me being locked up in a loony bin.
I wasn’t sure why my first instinct was to lie.
But I didn’t need to lie to this girl. “I was painting earlier. I paint portraits.”
“You’re an artist? Wow. That’s so incredible. It’s so hard to make it in the arts these days.”
I laughed. “No. I’m not an artist. I’m the CEO of the city’s largest financial firm. Painting is a hobby.”
Her fork clattered against her plate. “Oh my God. You’re…you’re…”
I could see the moment of recognition before she even said my name. And it felt like the end of the night had come. One of the only reasons I’d put up with this crazy night was because she didn’t know who I was.
“You’re Matthew Caldwell? The CEO of MAC International?”
“Yup.” I tried to finish up my raviolis. As much as I wanted to get the hell out of this restaurant, I was still hungry.
“So you’re friends with James Hunter?” She gasped.
“And Penny Hunter? I seriously idolize her. I want to be her when I grow up. I mean, she’s only a few years older than me.
But she’s a redhead from Delaware. I’m so much like her and yet she married James Hunter and I married Joe Dickson. Such a different terrible life choice.”
I smiled. “So you read tabloids?”
“No. I mean, yes. I thought you looked familiar.” She threw her hand over her mouth. “Wait, your friend that set up the dating profile for you? That was Penny? Penny Penny?”
“Yup.”
“Oh my God, I casually flirted with her because I thought it was you. Chastity is never going to believe this.”
I had a sinking feeling in my stomach. No, she didn’t know my friends. But she knew of them. What if the painting thing somehow got back to them? They’d have a million questions. They’d want to see the portraits. They’d think I was crazy.
“Do you think you could introduce me to them?” she asked.
Shit. “No.” It came out way faster and harsher than I meant for it to.
She bit her lower lip and looked down at the smorgasbord of food on the table. “Right. Sorry. Date from hell and all that?”
“That’s not it.” But honestly, it kind of was.
“Was it because of the bathroom incident? Because I really didn’t mean for you to see me with my shirt off until at least the third date. That’s like some kind of rule, right? I’ve heard that somewhere. Honestly I’m a little shaky on dating rules these days. When is nudity allowed?”
“Um…”
“And we started over. I don’t even think I’ve done anything that weird since coming back out here.
Except for the whole admitting that I’m obsessed with your friends thing.
I mean, don’t get me wrong, I like you too.
But I read all about that huge scandal with James and Penny a few years ago.
It was all over the news. And then their wedding night?
Oh my freaking God! I couldn’t stop watching the news… ”
“Yeah, I get it,” I said. “They’re famous.”
She was silent for a moment. “Are you jealous of them or something?”
I laughed. “No.”
“It kinda seems like you’re jealous.”
“I’m not jealous.” Again, my words came out icier than I meant for them to.
“You’re famous too,” she said. “Matthew Caldwell.” She smiled to herself. “I can’t believe I went on a blind date with you. Such a crazy world. And there’s no need to be jealous of your friends. You’re great too.”
I’m not jealous. Fine, I kind of was. But not of them. Of what they have.
We ate in silence as Ash slowly chewed another chicken finger.
Until she started squirming and looked like she couldn’t stand it anymore.
“So what do you do at MAC International?” She shook her head.
“Sorry, you already said. You’re the CEO.
I’m sorry about earlier, but please stop with the silent treatment. It’s driving me crazy.”
I laughed because it had literally been quiet for five seconds tops before she started talking again.
“I’m not mad at you. And you’re right. I am a little jealous of them.
Of what they have, you know?” This girl was a stranger to me.
And I found myself wanting to get all this shit off my chest. I didn’t care if she judged me.
I’d probably never see her again. And she’d certainly never meet any of my friends in person.
“Yeah, I get that. Their lives seem so perfect. True love and all that.”
She sounded like Tanner.
“I hope that one day I can experience that.” She sighed and dropped her chin in her hand. “Don’t you?”
“I have.” I wasn’t sure why I said it. I hadn’t gone on a blind date to talk about Brooklyn. Honestly, I don’t know why the hell I was on a blind date.
“You have? What happened?”
I took a deep breath. What was the worst that could happen if I told her? I might feel better. Maybe worse. Maybe this was just what I needed. A stranger to talk about Brooklyn with. “She passed away.”
“Oh my God, Matt.” She reached across the table to grab my hand.
But before she reached me, she knocked over the candle in the center of the table with her elbow.
It fell into the olive oil and the whole plate burst into flames.
Ash screamed at the top of her lungs. Before I could throw water on the fire, she grabbed the side of the tablecloth, I think to smother the fire.
But she pulled too aggressively and flung the fiery oil directly onto my dick.
I don’t know if it was her screaming again or a high-pitched scream came out of my own mouth. I stood up as my pants lit up like a Christmas tree.
Ash grabbed her glass of wine.
“Ash don’t…”
She flung the contents at me. Luckily she missed completely because she would have made the fire way worse. But the wine somehow went right into my face. Fuck.
“Ash!” I screamed as I blindly reached for the tablecloth to smother the fire.
She finally seemed to understand and started whacking the front of my pants with the tablecloth as I wiped the wine out of my eyes.
Oof. It felt like I was about to barf as her hand collided with my nuts. Hard. I looked down as she continued to slap my junk with the tablecloth.
“I’m so so sorry,” she said when the fire was finally out.
“I think it’s okay.” She moved the burnt up flap of my dress pants to the side to see my barely singed boxer briefs.
“It feels like it’s okay. I think your pants took the worst of it.
” She patted the front of my boxers and then seemed to realize what she was doing.
She froze with her hand pressed against me.
And we both just stood there. Me with wine dripping from my eyelashes and half singed off pants. The whole restaurant could see my boxers and her hand on me.
“I’m just going to…” she removed her hand from my cock and pointed over her shoulder. And then she ran away as fast as she could.
I didn’t call after her. She’d just tried to set my fucking dick on fire. This was why I didn’t tell people about Brooklyn.