Page 10 of Match Me if You Can

She falls silent for a beat then prompts me impatiently. “Well?”

“Well what?”

“Well what the fuck else would I be talking to you about? Are you engaged to a very nice, but beautiful girl with a steady job, one who’ll quit and populate the world with tiny sexy mini-Ace Ambroses who’ll help me conquer the world?”

“I don’t think you should be referring to babies as sexy.”

A scoff. “Mini Ace Ambroses would be.”

I sigh. “Ally.”

“Fine,” she grumbles. “They will be adorable little baby models who will grow up to make me a lot of money once they reach the age of consent.” A beat. “Better?”

“Much,” I say dryly.

“Well?” she repeats after a moment.

“Well what?” I ask, rubbing the towel across my forehead, catching stray beads of sweat.

“Well,” she snaps, “are you engaged, my most profitable client? Or do I need to find someone for you?”

Fuck, no.

I’ve seen the trail of trash she dates.

I want her nowhere near a woman I’ll be required to get cozy with—no matter that it’ll be for a quantifiably short amount of time.

“I’ve got it covered,” I say.

A long pause, Ally’s disbelief hitting my ears through the speakers of my phone. “You’ve got it covered?”

“Yup.”

“Who is she?”

I think of the ice princess, the flinty blue eyes, the demeanor that can freeze a thousand men’s balls off, the so-polite-it-can-wound fierceness…

“You’ll love her.”

FIVE

Violet

“I am a fucking idiot.”

And yet, I’m staring at my phone, at the banking app open on the screen, taking in the fact that the balance is a million dollars greater than a few days before—the other million to be delivered upon successful completion of the “job.”

A job I don’t want to do.

And yet I’m about to transfer a chunk of that money to pay my rent, about to set another portion to the side for Josie’s salary plus a hefty raise.

Her nephew has picked up baseball.

Apparently, bats and gloves are expensive as shit.

Not as expensive as shoes, but…

“None of this is taking your mind off what you agreed to,” I whisper, my gaze drifting to my bed, to the suitcase and overnight bag—both of which are packed.