Page 6 of Stupid Matchmaking Love
“I don’t know. You tell me,” she jokes, which makes me chuckle more.
“Well, you’re wrong on both counts. I haven’t met this woman yet.”
“Oh, so it is a woman. This is juicy. Tell me more.”
I shouldn’t. I really shouldn’t. One of my rules is not revealing too much about myself early on with anyone, but there’s something about this moment—everything with her is easy. It’s the fastest connection I’ve had, maybe ever.
I pinch the corners of my eyes with my thumb and forefinger. “To tell you the truth—”
“Please, I’m all ears.”
“Apparently, a woman who’s about to start working for me is hunting me down for dating material.”
“No.”
“That’s what I was told.”
“By who?”
“One of the men at the party. He told me I’d do best to avoid her.”
“Why?”
“Crazy. Off her rocker. Stalker potential.”
“Sounds serious.”
“Hence, why I’m here.”
“And she’s supposed to start working for you? Awkward.”
“That’s why I’m staying clear of the lobby. Alcohol and bad intentions don’t mix.”
“What’s her name?” she asks before taking a sip from her water bottle.
“Cristina.”
She spits out the water and coughs.
“You okay? Here.”
I hand her a napkin, and she wipes her mouth. “Yeah, I’m okay. But maybe . . . maybe this woman isn’t so bad. I mean, who’d you hear this from?”
“A guy named Jace.”
Her eyes narrow.
“Why? You know him?”
“Somewhat.” She adjusts her hair, pushing up the wisps that kiss her neck. Her skin looks so soft my fingers itch to touch it.
“Yeah, according to that Jace, I might have to get a restraining order.”
She chokes on her water.
I rise, ready to pat her back or whatever she needs. “You sure you’re all right?”
She waves me away. “I’m fine. Really. But, um, maybe you got some misinformation.”
