Imperfect Match

  Imperfect Match

  Melanie Harlow

  Corinne Michaels

  Love & Olives Ink LLC

  Copyright © 2019 by Melanie Harlow and Corinne Michaels.

  All rights reserved.

  No part of this book may be reproduced in any form or by any electronic or mechanical means, including information storage and retrieval systems, without written permission from the author, except for the use of brief quotations in a book review.

  Cover Photography: Nicole Ashley Photography

  Cover Design: Sommer Stein, Perfect Pear Creative

  Editing: Nancy Smay, Evident Ink

  Proofing: Michele Ficht, Janice Owens

  Paperback Formatting: Champagne Book Design

  To Laurelin, for making this perfect match!

  M & C

  Contents

  1. Willow

  2. Reid

  3. Willow

  4. Reid

  5. Willow

  6. Willow

  7. Reid

  8. Willow

  9. Reid

  10. Willow

  11. Reid

  12. Willow

  13. Reid

  14. Willow

  15. Reid

  16. Willow

  17. Reid

  18. Willow

  19. Willow

  20. Reid

  21. Willow

  22. Reid

  23. Willow

  24. Reid

  25. Willow

  Epilogue

  Bonus Scene

  About the Authors

  Also by Melanie Harlow and Corinne Michaels

  Acknowledgments

  One

  Willow

  “I’m retiring,” my mother says as I sit in the chair across from her. “And I’m thinking of selling the business.”

  “You’re what?” I stare over the desk at her in complete shock. “Mom, you can’t be serious.”

  “It’s time, Willow. Your dad and I want to travel the world while we still have the energy to do it.”

  “Okay, fine, but don’t sell the business! My Heart’s Desire is the number one matchmaking service in Chicago! You’ve spent twenty years of your life building it up.” My mother is brilliant and has this innate ability to see a couple’s potential without any explanation. It’s like she sees through all the pretenses and lies, and gets to the heart of what a person really needs.

  She sighs. “I know, darling, but I’m not getting any younger, and you’re not getting any better at this.”

  It’s the truth, but I feel like I have to defend myself anyway. “I’m still in training.”

  “Willow, it’s been three years.”

  “It takes time to make a perfect match!”

  “I had five marriages under my belt in my first year.”

  “Well … I’ve come close a few times, haven’t I?” I don’t actually know if this is true, but I like to think it is. I’ve set up countless clients, followed all of my mother’s directions. I’ve agonized over finding the subtle nuances in interviews that I think a client would appreciate ... but all my matches have been total busts.

  I’m clearly a love disaster where my mother is a guru—in work and in life.

  “I suppose I could ask Aspen to take it over,” she muses, looking out the window.

  “Aspen!” My jaw drops. My mother cannot truly think this is a good idea. I love my sister, but she needs psychiatric help ... or even just a shower and haircut. She took my parents’ hippie mentality and decided it was a life choice, much like being vegan or keto. She feels that she can’t partake in anything that supports the government. Therefore, she lives on my parents’ land, steals—or borrows, if you ask her—their electricity, water, food, and anything else she needs. Then tries to say she’s “living off the land.” I called it being a lazy ass.

  And then a month ago, my mother hired her at My Heart’s Desire as an administrative assistant. In that short time, she’s already made two matches!

  “Well, if I’m not going to sell it, I need someone to take over. Aspen is so new at this—I was hoping it would be you. In fact, that was the entire point of you coming to work for me. With your business degree, plus my mentoring, I figured it wouldn’t take long for you to be ready, but …” She gives me a pointed look as she trails off.

  I sit up taller. “I am ready, Mom. Give me one more chance. I know I can find someone a perfect match.”

  She releases another heavy sigh. “And you know, I can’t help but wish that out of all the people for whom I’ve found a soul mate, one of them could be you. I regret not finding your happily ever after. I’m positive that’s your problem.”

  Here we go.

  The fact that I’d rather be single than settle is a mystery to her. “It’s not a problem, Mom. I’m happy. I don’t currently need or want a man.”

  “You can lie to yourself, but not to me.”

  It’s actually the truth. It’s not that I don’t believe in love, but I haven’t been able to find it, and yet I’m very happy in my life. I live in a great apartment, I have the best across-the-hall neighbor ever (who also happens to be my best friend), I have plants to take care of, and no need whatsoever for another asshole boyfriend.

  If there’s a hole in my world, it’s children. I grew up in the most insane, ridiculous home that ever existed, but I loved my childhood. We owned a beautiful lot up in Michigan with a freaking petting zoo. It was a time filled with new animals and trips out to the woods to search for buried treasure that my father hid the night before. It was sleeping under the stars, swimming in the lake, listening to ghost stories. (Later, it was my sister smoking plants that I’m sure my mother didn’t know she was growing.)

  I’ve always dreamed of children, marriage, and the picture-perfect happily ever after, with a little chaos thrown in.

  The problem?

  I have the worst taste in men ever. I’ll think a guy is great, enjoy the first date, and then he asks for anal or something ridiculous on the second date and ... boom, single again. Yet another example of how much I suck at matchmaking … I can’t even find myself someone worthy of a second date.

  But I’ve got a plan to get where I want to be. And while it doesn’t require a husband, it will require me to have a job and an income. Seeing as I don’t have another option lined up, I need to salvage this situation.

  I try to redirect. “We’re not talking about me, Mom. We’re talking about the company.”

  “Fine, but is it too much to ask for a grandbaby before I’m in a wheelchair?”

  “Mom, I’m thirty-two! You act like you’re dying and I’ve failed to give you hope. Plus, we both know that Aspen will probably end up pregnant before me. Lord only knows what the hell goes on in that ridiculous Airstream she lives in.”

  My mother smiles wistfully. “Aspen is an old soul.”

  “And a hot mess,” I grumble.

  She mimics my words from a moment ago. “We’re not talking about your sister, we’re talking about you, my Weeping Willow. You could find love, but you have no prospects because you spend all your time with Reid.”

  My mother both loves and hates my best friend.

  “I do not spend all my time with Reid.”

  “Really? Who were you with last weekend?”

  “Reid and I had plans,” I say with indignation. I don’t know why that’s a big deal. He needed help, and I wasn’t busy.

  “Okay, and what about Monday night? What did you do?”

  I hate where this is going. “I was at home.”

  “Alone?”

  “No.”

  She smiles with fake sweetness. “Who were you with?”

  “I was watching televisi
on ... with Reid.” I tack the last part on softly.

  “And the rest of the week? Did you have plans with friends?”

  “I did, actually.” Reid is a friend, so technically I’m not lying, right?

  “Uh huh, and was the friend Reid?”

  Damn her. “Yes, Mother. It was.”

  “And last night, were you busy with someone other than Reid?”

  I glare at her because she knows damn well I was watching TV with Reid because that’s what we do every Thursday. It’s our thing.

  “So to recap, you spent last weekend, Monday, Tuesday, Wednesday, and Thursday with him?”

  My mother is a pain in my ass. A big one.

  “Willow?” she nudges.

  I roll my eyes. “Yes, okay? Yes, I spent all those evenings with Reid!”

  “Did someone say my name?”

  Speak of the devil and all that ...

  I groan and look back to see Reid Fortino himself standing in the doorway, looking like he owns the place. His dark brown hair is pushed to the side and he’s wearing a very expensive black suit with a crisp blue shirt underneath, which makes his eyes appear even bluer. Broad shoulders with thick arms and a tapered waist make most women get all tongue-tied around him.

  I like to tease him about looking like the male version of Xena the Warrior Princess—dark and brooding with that hint of danger … you’re not sure if you want to run from him or maul him. Even though I have zero romantic feelings for Reid, I can’t deny how hot he is. He had a meeting today in the building and said if he finished early, he would stop by. I didn’t realize what time it was.

  Normally, I’d be happy to see him, but he always enjoys when my mother picks on me about my relationship status, and he loves to argue with her.

  I look at the ceiling. “Really, God? Really? You couldn’t have dropped anyone else at the door? It had to be him?”

  “Which only proves my point,” Mom gloats.

  “What’s up, Wills?” Reid asks, entering the office. “Were you talking about me or something?”

  I straighten my head and look at him. “Yes, my mother was just saying that you’re killing my love life.”

  He smirks. “I’m saving her, Mrs. Hayes. That’s all. I keep the dirtbags away and—”

  “And you keep the worthy ones from approaching,” she says in her chastising-mother voice.

  “You wound me.” Reid clutches his chest.

  Mom laughs with a shake of her head and I watch him charm her into submission. It’s amazing and kind of scary to watch women around him. He’s smooth, good looking, and has an ability to make even smart, strong women do his bidding. Well, all except me.

  I’m completely immune to his charm, or as I call it, his bullshit.

  “I doubt that very much, honey,” my mother tells him. “If you’re going to keep Willow from finding love, the least you could do is date her.”

  He nearly chokes and I burst out laughing. This might actually be fun for once. “He won’t date me, Mom. He doesn’t find me attractive.”

  “I never said—” Reid starts before getting interrupted.

  “You don’t think she’s pretty?” Mom asks, as though he’s a crazy person.

  “I think she’s beautiful.” Reid looks to me for help.

  Instead of bailing him out of what will surely be a painful conversation with my mother, I lean back in my chair with a shit-eating grin. You’re on your own, buddy.

  “Then why is the idea of dating her so terrible?” Mom presses.

  “It’s not.” Reid loosens his tie.

  “So you just want to monopolize her time but not allow her to find love?”

  He opens his mouth, shaking his head but my mother is already on to her next question.

  “You don’t think she’s worthy of finding love?”

  “I didn’t—”

  “And what about the guys she does date, do you think it’s okay to scare them off by walking around her apartment as though you live there?”

  I nod. “Right, so unfair.”

  Reid glares at me with open hostility. Which makes me grin wider.

  My mother folds her arms over her chest. “If you’re not willing to date her, then you should at least allow her the opportunity to find someone else.”

  Reid struggles briefly for a reply, and then smiles like he’s got it all figured out. “I know, Mrs. Hayes, but it’s hard because Willow chases away the girls I bring home too.”

  Oh, that bastard.

  He’s so full of shit. First, he thinks what my mother does is total bullshit. Second, he doesn’t even date; he just sleeps with random bar girls and calls it dating. All he’s doing is deflecting now, and when my mother turns to look at me, I can see it worked.

  Damn it.

  “Willow!”

  He smiles triumphantly at me, and now it’s my turn to glare. “I don’t do that, Mom. I’ve tried to find him a nice girl, but he rejects them all.”

  My mother’s gaze shifts back to him and I stick my tongue out at him, like the mature adult I am.

  “It’s just not true, Mrs. Hayes,” Reid protests. “I have tried to find someone, but Wills is the reason all the girls say they can’t love me. And I can’t choose some stranger over my best friend. You understand, don’t you?”

  My mouth falls open because he just played her like a fiddle. My mother will never be able to resist his little wounded boy sob story. There’s nothing she likes more than someone she can fix.

  Drat.

  “Oh, honey, I didn’t know.” She gets to her feet and pulls him into her arms.

  Reid looks over her shoulder at me like the cat that ate the canary. “I’ve really struggled with this. You know, emotionally. I’m very sensitive that way.”

  For the love of God.

  I flip him off as he tries to stifle his laughter. It almost looks like he’s shaking with tears.

  “Mom! You can’t believe him, he’s full of shit!”

  Her arms drop and the disappointment in her eyes towards me only fuels my fire. “Willow Hayes, this man just showed a true bout of heartsickness over his desire to find love, and you chastise him?”

  “You seriously don’t believe that, do you?”

  Reid covers his face with his hands.

  “Oh, Reid.” My mother says his name with a gasp. “I’m so sorry, honey.”

  And then he’s fake-weeping in her arms again.

  I’m going to kill him tonight. But how? I’m thinking food poisoning, since I’ve never known him to turn anything edible away. It would definitely be the easiest option and the least messy. Shooting him seems too bloody. And he’s way too strong for me to choke, although the way he’s grinning at me again might give me Herculean strength.

  I move my mouth but don’t make a sound. I’m going to kill you.

  He smiles wider and mouths back, I’d like to see you try.

  Game on, jackass.

  Two

  Reid

  Willow’s mother rocks me in her arms like the sad, pathetic, unloved man I’m pretending to be. All the while, I’m looking at Wills and trying not to laugh.

  She and I both know my act is total crap.

  I’m not unloved or sad. She might say my inability to cook and shop for myself is pathetic, but as I remind her, she enjoys doing those things for me. I wouldn’t want to take that away from her.

  The truth is, I’m a normal guy with the best friend in the world living across the hall. She makes sure I’m fed, and she ensures I don’t look like a total loser by helping me pick out clothes. More than that, she’s always there for me.

  When my dog died, Willow was there.

  When my idiot brother Leo moved in because his girlfriend kicked him out, Willow helped make sure I didn’t kill him.

  When my ex-girlfriend cheated on me, Willow was the one offering to help bury the body. (Glinda was not the good witch she pretended to be.)

  There’s nothing in this world I treasure more than our friend
ship.

  Nothing.

  Right now though, if looks could kill, she’d have murdered me six ways till Sunday.

  “Come sit.” Mrs. Hayes pulls me toward the chair.

  Not wanting to let this charade die, I sniff as though I’m holding back tears.

  Which earns me a major eye roll from Wills. “Oh, please,” she says under her breath.

  “I want you two to have someone in your lives to share more than just pizza and Chinese food with. You need a real relationship,” Mrs. Hayes says while glancing back and forth between us. “I know you’re friends, and it’s so important to have that platonic affection too, but you need someone to love romantically who will love you back the same way.” Before either of us can say anything, she lifts her hands. “Not that you two don’t love each other, but you don’t love love each other. I think we can all agree on that.”

  Willow sighs and nods, and she and I exchange a look.

  No one gets our friendship. She’s beautiful, not to mention funny, smart, and put together in that I’m-a-Real-Adult way, but it’s never been romantic for us.

  We’ve somehow managed to keep our friendship securely in the friend zone.

  “My point is that maybe you guys are hurting each other instead of helping,” her mother goes on.

  “Mom, we’re fine.” Willow holds up her hands. “We really are. Reid is happy. I’m happy. Not everyone needs to be married to be happy.”

  Her mother turns to me with her best maternal stare. “Do you want a wife and children?”

  The truth is no, I don’t. I don’t want any part of being a dad, or a husband, or turning into any version of my own father. I grew up with the most fucked-up parents a person could have. Mom is a raging alcoholic. Dad works constantly to avoid my drunk mom, and my brother and I had to fend for ourselves more often than not. They had all the money in the world, but they were miserable, and they made us miserable too. Why would I want to repeat that?