Chapter 8
CHAPTER EIGHT
A WEDNESDAY IN MAY
Irush into the office, my heels echoing off the tile floor as I run towards my desk. My work bag fell off my shoulder when I entered the lobby, jostling the coffee in my right hand and causing some to spill out and stain the sleeve of my white dress shirt.
Setting the two coffees down on my desk followed by my bag on my chair, I quickly head over to the coat rack in the corner and grab my red blazer. Walking back to my desk as I slide my arms into the sleeves, I finally look up and notice a man standing in Kirstin’s office.
My brows furrow as I grab my phone out of my bag and open our shared calendar. Sure enough, she doesn’t have a meeting scheduled.
Setting my phone down on my desk, I pull my laptop, folders, and notebook out of my bag before I set it on the floor. Just as I sit down in my desk chair, I hear her office door open. Instead of looking, I open my laptop.
“I will have my assistant get your profile started,” Kirstin says to the man as I type in my password. “But I already have someone in mind, so you’ll most likely be hearing from me sooner rather than later.”
“Thank you,” the man replies, my eyes now trained on my inbox as I shift through those of the highest priority. “I appreciate that. And thank you again for meeting me without an appointment. I know you’re a very busy woman.”
Kirstin laughs, and I can picture her waving a dismissive hand. “My assistant does most of the work. I swear, sometimes I’m just the face.”
I smile at that as their footsteps approach my desk. Feeling a presence beside me, I blindly grab one of the styrofoam coffee cups and extend it in her general direction.
“One cream, two sugars,” I tell her as she grabs it out of my hand, and I put my fingers back on my keyboard.
“See? She does it all. I’ll be in touch.”
The man says nothing, but I can feel his gaze staring at the side of my face. Refusing to make eye contact, I hit reply on an email and type out my response when he clears his throat and spins on his heel to leave.
I take his departure as an opportunity to look up. He has brown hair, broad shoulders, and wears a full suit. He walks with purpose, his shoulders back and his head held high like he knows he commands any room that he walks into.
A folder dropping onto my desk causes me to jump, tearing my gaze away from the man as I glance up at Kirstin. She gives me a sly smile as I reach for the folder and lean back in my chair as she sits on the one on the other side of my desk.
“How has your first week back been?” Kirstin asks, taking a sip of her coffee.
“Good,” I tell her honestly, resting the folder in my lap. “It’s been great getting back into a routine. Thank you again for all that time off. I know it’s not easy without me here.”
Kirstin hums but keeps quiet. I reach for my coffee and take a sip, observing her. I can tell that she is picking her next words with caution, and that puts me slightly on edge. Whenever she has to think before she speaks, that normally means nothing good.
“You deserved a month to grieve and be with your daughter,” she finally says, leaning forward to rest her arms on my desk. “But you are right. We’ve struggled a lot in the time you were away. Did you see my email?”
I sit up, setting the folder down on top of the pile of others I have before skimming through my email. Clicking on the most recent one from her, I open it to discover an article about our company. However, before I can read it, Kirstin speaks again.
“We normally have a minimum of thirty matches a month, our highest being sixty-two. But this month that you’ve been gone, we’ve only had ten.”
I pinch the bridge of my nose at the statistic. “The papers are questioning my standing, our standing, and success. Our biggest competitor has been extremely vocal in the last couple of weeks, trying to discredit us.”
“We both know that’s crazy.” I fold my arms over my chest. “There’s no credibility there. I already have a pile of twelve matches that I’ve put together in the week I’ve been back. We’ll be fine.”
“I’m worried about the possibility of them gaining traction over us,” Kirstin tells me, concern lacing her normally chipper tone. “I think it’s time that we do something big. Something we haven’t done before.”
My eyes narrow slightly at that, knowing that something is coming that I will not like. “Pray tell.”
“All of our clients have been regular everyday people,” she says as she stands, walking to lean next to me against my desk, resting her hand on the pile of folders.
“That’s why we’ve been so successful. We market to the regular everyday Joe.
But what if we successfully matched someone of higher status? ”
I mull it over as I cross my left leg over my right, keeping my arms folded. It would be a great idea, actually. Something that could help prove the legitimacy and accuracy of our company. If we can match someone of high status, that only helps elevate ours.
“Who did you have in mind?”
Kirstin picks up the folder she had dropped on my desk, extending it in my direction. I grab it and set it on my keyboard, flipping it open. As my eyes fall on that all too familiar name and photo, my breath hitches.
“Levi Wright,” she answers as I stare at his picture. “He came in asking for our help, and I think if we do this justice, we’ll be back at the top of the food chain, not having to fight for first place.”
“Okay.” I glance up at her. “I’ll create his profile and plug him into the system. See what matches I can generate.”
A slow smile spreads on Kirstin’s face as she stands, gesturing with her head. “Come into my office for a second. Bring his file with you.”
I raise a brow but don’t say a word as I oblige. Following her into her office, I close the door behind me as she takes a seat at her desk. She gestures to one of the open chairs and I take a seat.
“I’ve been thinking about this for a while now, doing something like this.” Kirstin types on her computer. “These circumstances just gave me the push that I needed.”
I nod absentmindedly as I fidget with the folder, his folder, that is sitting in my lap. “I had been piling data of all I could find out from the internet about those who could be considered New York’s Most Eligible Bachelors and put them into your system. Hand me his file.”
Handing her the blue folder, I sit back as she enters the data, twirling the plain silver ring I wear on my thumb. In my gut, I already know where this conversation is headed, but I’m still not prepared when she confirms my suspicions.
“I had some promising matches, some high percentages,” she tells me before turning her desktop in my direction, showing me her screen. “But nothing like this.”
I tear my gaze away from her and look at what is before me. On the left is Levi’s photo and profile, and on the right… mine. My eyes widen slightly before drifting down to the bottom of the screen.
A ninety-four percent match.
I stare in shock, unable to get any words out.
If we got anything over eighty, that was amazing—it was rare to get anything over a ninety.
It has only happened a handful of times in the half a decade I have been doing this.
All of those who have received a percentage over ninety are still together.
Some are married, some are engaged, others are just out there traveling the world with their other half.
A match over ninety has never failed before.
“Talk to me,” Kirstin says, breaking the silence.
I can’t take my eyes away from the screen when I ask, “Are you sure that’s accurate?”
“Are you doubting your own program?” She counters, leaning back in her chair.
Kirstin studies me as I finally tear my gaze away from the screen, refusing to make eye contact. Ninety-four percent is all I can think about.
How can someone I met on a rooftop all those years ago suddenly wander into my life and, according to the algorithm I put together, be practically perfect for me? The odds are beyond slim and yet the truth is literally staring me in the face.
“Please, let me set this up,” she pleads, leaning forward and finally drawing my eyes up to her dark brown ones.
“My original intentions were to help the company, but honestly? I want this for you, Marlowe. This is huge, and it’s such a rare thing to find.
I don’t want you to miss out on this opportunity. ”
“I’ve got a kid, Kirstin.” Shaking my head, I abruptly stand from the chair and pace the room.
“I am grieving the recent loss of my father and sister. Who knows when or if Travis is going to show up again or what I’m going to do about anything involving him.
My life is such a mess right now. It’s just not the right time. ”
Kirstin pushes out of her leather desk chair and approaches me, resting her hands on my shoulders.
“Marlowe, there’s always going to be a reason why it’s not the right time.
It’s never going to be the right time. But chances like these only come once in a lifetime.
If you don’t take it now, you’re going to wish you had.
Don’t let something that could be so beautiful disappear. ”
“But Claire isn’t ready for something like this. I haven’t even told her what’s happening with her father because I don’t know myself. I can’t just bring another man into her life.”
“And you shouldn’t.” Kirstin releases my shoulders and perches on her desk. “You need to make sure you’re serious about someone and them about you before ever getting around to introducing them to her. This is about you, Mar. What are you so afraid of?”
That has me stopping short. I swallow the lump in my throat and glance out the glass walls of her office, staring at my desk. I take a deep breath before I utter what has been buried somewhere deep inside of me.
“I have been through so much with Travis for so long,” I whisper, tears springing to my eyes.
“I always used to think he was it for me. That he and I would grow old together and have more kids. But those aren’t the cards I was dealt.
I spent so long fighting for something that wasn’t good for me because I thought it was the right thing to do.
Wasted so much of my time and lost part of myself in the process.
I really, really don’t want to go through that again. ”
Kirstin is suddenly standing in front of me with a tissue in her hand, which I gratefully accept, wiping the tears off my cheeks.
“You broke the cycle, Marlowe,” she reminds me, a sad smile on her red lipstick covered lips.
“You know the warning signs, and you know what you want. I know it’s scary getting back out there again, trust me.
But honey, you can’t live your life in fear of getting hurt.
You deserve the world, the moon, and all the stars, and God, do I wish you could see that.
You deserve to give your heart a chance. ”
I start to tear up again as she pulls me into a hug, resting her chin on my shoulder as she whispers in my ear, “Allow yourself to be happy and take this leap.”
Releasing a shaky breath, I whisper back, “Okay.”