Page 19 of Imperfect Match (Imperfect Match 1)
“Dad is visiting our madre and asked me to come along. He got me a few things for the compound.”
“Aspen, it’s not a compound, it’s the backyard.”
“It’s where I’m in touch with the world.” She’s so far out of touch, it’s not even funny. “What are you working on?”
“I’m finding a match for Reid.”
She laughs. “Really?”
“Yes, why?”
Aspen comes closer to the desk. “Can I see your prospect?”
My sister is a lot like my mother. She sees things in people—I wish I had that gift, but I don’t. They always talk about the eyes and how you can see a person’s soul and truths. I think they’re just eyes, but apparently this is why I suck at my job.
“No,” she says as she hands me back the paper.
“No?”
“No. She won’t work.”
I sigh. “Why?” She’s truly the best I’ve found. Each trait that Reid requires, Kandace has. She’s pretty, smart, has her own money, she cooks, and she is even in the same field as him. Her video profile made me a tad bit ragey because she was so perfect for him.
“Because ... she’s not for him.”
“Aspen,” I groan. “I need more than that.”
“It’s a feeling I have.”
“You haven’t even met her!”
Then my sister sits ... on the floor ... because my chairs are wood and she has a thing about trees and death. I don’t point out that the floors are hardwood because I don’t have the emotional capacity for that fight.
“I don’t need to. Reid will never match with her.”
God, give me strength.
“Well, I think you’re wrong. She’s got everything he wants.”
“I would wager you’re incorrect,” she retorts. “In fact, I know you are, like you were when we were little about where the sun went as it set.” Aspen smirks and tilts her head to the side.
When she does that, I’m instantly eight years old and want to pull her hair and call her names. My sister and I were the worst as little girls. My parents have a huge home. It’s ridiculous, but they insisted that we share a room. They both grew up very modestly and believed the bonds with their siblings were strengthened by sharing.
So, Aspen, who’s been a slob since she was little, shared my room.
My beloved room, which I’d color-coded for easy cleanup. I liked order and a bit of neatness, but my sister would purposely make the room a mess.
Making me ... crazy.
We fought daily, calling names, pulling hair. We were so bad my parents finally separated us, but Aspen thought it was comical to still come into my room and destroy it.
Right now, I feel like she’s doing the same damn thing.
“I wasn’t wrong then and I’m not wrong now. You barely even know Reid; I know everything.”
“Not who is right for him.”
I groan. “I think I know what he’s looking for more than you do. You looked at a photo.”
