Finding Forever (12 page)

“How many people know, Avery? What, were you bragging about how easy I was? Is that why they were all looking at me like that, like I was—”

Holy shit, I wasn’t expecting
this.

Tori had looked up, and her eyes were glossy with unshed tears. I could handle anger. I was used to dealing with
angry
women, but tears? Dammit.

Swallowing the impulse to either go back outside and not deal with this, or pull her into my arms, I approached her and took her hand, but she snatched it away as she stood. “Tori, wait a minute before you get all upset, please? Nick is the only person I’ve told, and he’ll keep it to himself. The guys were looking at you like that because… I mean, have you
seen
you? It’s not at all what you’re thinking.”

She lifted her eyes to meet mine. “You’re
sure
?” My emphatic nod calmed her considerably. “I’m sorry for freaking out, but I’m embarrassed enough knowing for myself that I did something so reckless. The thought of
everybody
knowing, and thinking I’m a…”

“A what? Grown ass woman?”

She shook her head. “It’s not about that. I can’t have a reputation as someone who sleeps around, not in my industry. If my female clients think I’m miss loose-booty, why would they trust that I’m not sleeping with the men? If my male clients think that, what keeps them from trying to approach me about it? It’s… all bad, and I want to keep it as private as possible. Please?”

“Tori, I don’t go around bragging about the women I’ve slept with. Are you trying to get me to believe you didn’t tell
anybody
what happened that night?”

The sudden drop of her eyes back to the floor answered
that
question. “It was a good friend, who I know will keep it to herself.”

“Ditto,” I said, turning on my computer to pull up the inventory database. “So… are we good?”

She pushed out a heavy sigh before nodding. “We’re fine.”

“Good. Now, what’s the make and model of your car?”

— &—

“This… isn’t what I was expecting, but somehow it makes sense.” We’d pulled up to a large yellow craftsman-style home in a neighborhood that looked like it belonged in a magazine. Every house had a unique facade, with quirky landscaping, and on Tori’s street, I didn’t see any two that were the same color.

“What
were
you expecting?” she asked as she climbed out of the car and pressed a button on her keys to let up the garage.

“Loft apartment, no plants, no maintenance. Definitely not ‘Wisteria Lane’.”

She frowned, confused. “That’s not the name of my street.”

“I know, it’s the name of the— never mind. This is the car?” I asked, stepping into the garage to look at the midnight blue luxury vehicle.

“Yep, this is my sick baby.”

After tossing me her keys, she sat down on the steps to the garage while I tried to get it to start. Sure enough, it was sputtering, trying to connect, but not quite making it.

“Why did you think I’d be somewhere uptown in a loft?” she asked, just as I was pulling out the code reader to connect to her car.

I shrugged. “You look like that type. Spotless apartment, where the landlord comes to change your light bulbs for you. Maid service, so you don’t have to touch dirty dishes, all of that. Order in, or go out to have dinner because you don’t cook.”

“You’re kidding, right? That’s not me at all,” she giggled.

“Okay. Tell me about you then.” Frowning at what I saw on the screen of the code reader, I looked up at her before popping the hood on her car. Why was she so damned
cute
? Sitting on the steps as she was put her in the perfect position to rest her chin on her hands, with her elbows propped up on her knees. She had her head turned to the side, contemplating what she was going to say, and when she turned back, connecting her hazel eyes with mine, it gave me a strange sensation in my chest.

What the hell is going on with me?

“I’m very low-maintenance. I don’t like to have a fuss made over me. I change my own light bulbs, and air filters, and I cut my grass most of the time. I clean the house myself, and if I didn’t cook, Mel and I would probably have blood pressure through the roof from eating sushi or Japanese take out every night.”

“Mel?”

She nodded, making her curly ponytail bounce. “My assistant, remember? She’s my step-sister, she lives here too.”

“Wow, so you and your husband had a roommate?”

Why did I ask about him?

Her smile faltered a little as she answered. “No. This was my house before I got married, he and I had an apartment in the city. After I filed for divorce, I came back.”

Tori didn’t look particularly pleased with that line of conversation, so as I turned to peer down at her engine, I changed the subject to one I thought would go over a little better.

“So… how did you get into matchmaking?”

I didn’t miss her little sigh of relief before responding. “Oh, I’ve always been the ‘hookup’ girl. Back in high school, all the way through college, I saw things in people that made them work.”

“I get
that
, but turning it into a business?”

“Well, I double majored in computer science and business but I ended up at a little start-up company, which I
hated
. Then, there was this black entrepreneur’s conference here in Dallas that I attended… changed everything.”

“The Black Enterprise Magazine thing? You went with Des?”

“Yep! But, anyway, I went in to listen to one of the speakers, and she talked about finding what you were good at, and channeling that passion into a career. That resonated with me… and here we are.”

I turned back to her. “That’s pretty damned cool. So you’ve been doing this how long?”

“Six years. Fifty-seven couples have made it past the six month mark , thirty-three weddings, and as far as I know, twenty-six children. But, full disclosure, that’s not counting some break-ups and two divorces that I know of, so… it hasn’t been
all
peachy.”

“But your record is still good. Things … happen between people, things that have nothing to do with them being good for each other or not.”

She smiled. “I know. I try not to take it too hard when one of my couples doesn’t end up working out, but I usually end up loving my clients like family. It’s hard not to grieve with them. I get really invested.”

“I can understand that,” I said, nodding. “But what about you… you ever used that computer of yours to match yourself?”

Almost immediately, the smile slid from her face, turning to a closed expression. “No,” she said, in an adamant tone that said it wasn’t a topic that was up for discussion.

I lifted an eyebrow, but she didn’t look inclined to elaborate, so I decided to leave her alone, and got back to fixing her car.

— Tori —

Avery knew I was lying. I could
tell
, from the raised eyebrow he gave me before turning back to the car. He shook his head at something he saw, then took something from the bag of things he’d brought along from Ignition
.
He fiddled with the car for a few minutes before climbing back into my driver’s side and starting it. It roared to life without a hitch, sounding as good as the first day I bought it.

I stood, walking over the car where Avery sat with an annoyed expression on his face. “What did the mechanic tell you was wrong when you took your car in before?” he asked as I approached.

“Something about the spark plugs… he said they were gonna replace them.”

Rolling his eyes, Avery shook his head. “Don’t
ever
take your car back to whoever the hell you took it to. Next time something happens, call me, or you take it to Nick, okay?”

“Why, what’s going on?” I asked, confused.

“Well, the first problem is they
didn’t
give you new spark plugs. It looks like they cleaned the old ones and put them back on. The second problem is they weren’t put in correctly. The third problem is that your spark plug wires weren’t connected well. Replacing spark plugs is basic shit, and they couldn’t get that right, but I bet you they were going to charge you another fee to get it towed to them, and then charged you again to do the job they were supposed to do the first time. It’s bullshit,” he huffed. He was pissed.

Wow
.

“Um… okay. I won’t take it to them again. I had no idea about any of that. My knowledge of cars is limited to making it look pretty.”

Avery snorted. “Yeah, I’m sure that’s what they were banking on, taking advantage of people who don’t know about cars. I don’t like that shit.”

There was a short period of awkward silence where neither of us knew what to say. He began gathering his tools to put away, and I suddenly felt an overwhelming need to keep the conversation going. Hooking my thumbs into my belt loops, I broke the ice.

“The question you asked me earlier, about if I’d ever matched myself with a client… the answer was actually yes.”

He looked up, with a little smile that told me my words weren’t a surprise. “Yeah… I figured, from the way you responded. What ended up happening?”

I shrugged, pressing my lips together in a tight smile. “It ended up being a huge mistake. Rafael was an actor who got his ‘big break’ shortly after we got married, and he started doing what men with that kind of money, and access and power do.”

“Big break… are you talking about Rafael Oliveira?”

“One in the same,” I said, chuckling at the recognition. “It was
so
stupid. I mean, he had a playboy reputation before he was big name. Being a married man wouldn’t look good for his ‘brand’, so we couldn’t be seen together, which meant we couldn’t do anything together, except argue and have sex. Eventually, once I realized he was cheating, the sex stopped, so all we did was fight, and…. well, here I am, divorced.”

His eyes widened. “Damn.”

“Damn is right. So, I learned my lesson, no more matching myself with clients, under any circumstances.” I locked eyes with him, hoping the full meaning of my words connected. There was no way I was imagining the subtle vibe between us, but it wasn’t something we would be acting on. I needed that to be clear. He gave me a slight nod of recognition, which relieved me, but at the same time, made me feel a little empty. I gave myself a few seconds, then brushed it off, asking him what I owed for the repair of the car.

“Are you serious, Tori? That took like five minutes, of course you don’t owe me anything.” He glanced at his watch. “But… if you’re hungry, do you wanna join me for an early dinner?”

I shook my head. “I appreciate the offer, but I’m actually due at my parents’ for dinner. My step mom always cooks a bunch of stuff, and my dad is on the grill today.”

“I mean… I like barbecues.” Avery leaned against the door of my car, locking in on me with those
damn
eyes, and a grin that made my knees feel a little weak.

“I know some good restaurants I can recommend,” I responded, pretending I didn’t realize he was fishing for an invitation.

He chuckled, grabbing my hand before I could step away. “Come on, Tori. I fixed your car, and probably saved you a bunch of money from your wack-ass mechanic. You’re gonna deprive me of a home-cooked meal after you stood in my face and
bragged
about it?”

Crap
.

He was laying it on thick, and I was falling for it, because a twinge of guilt crept up my shoulders, nagging me until I gave in. “Fine,” I said. “Why not?”

I discovered
exactly
‘why not’ shortly after we arrived at my parent’s home. After greeting him, Lynne sent Avery outside with my dad and uncle to help with the grill. When he was out of earshot, she turned to me with a huge grin.

“Lynne… please, he’s a client. He helped me out with my car, so I invited him to eat with us to return the favor. It’s
nothing
. Ask Mel, she knows.”

“She’s lying, mommy,” Melanie chimed in from her place at the kitchen counter, where she was frosting a caramel cake. “I don’t know who she thinks she’s fooling, but she’s climbed
that
tree before. Your body language is telling on you girl,” she said, exchanging a glance with Lynne.

I sighed, wondering why it hadn’t occurred to me that
this
— bringing Avery to my family’s house— was another bad idea, and would
absolutely
send the wrong message. It wouldn’t surprise me at all if my dad and uncle were outside explaining to Avery that he’d better put a ring on my finger, or my dad’s
favorite
thing to tell my teenaged dates, “Make sure you put a hat on your jimmy, lil boy. Send my daughter home with a baby you don’t plan on taking care of and I’ll mess ya’ up.”

“Oh Mel, she’s embarrassed, let’s not pick on her,” Lynne said, pulling down a stack of plates from the cabinet. “Even though, I bet that gorgeous chocolate man would sure make me some pretty grandbabies.”

When she didn’t get the answer she wanted — that we would be giving her the aforementioned grandbabies
soon
— she went after him, and I was pleased to see he handled himself well, assuring her there was nothing romantic about our relationship. After dinner, I walked out to his car with him. My parents lived in a neighborhood where the nearest house was a quarter of a mile away, so outside, the air was quiet and still.

“So… you ready to start your dates? The first one is lined up for this week,” I told him.

He shrugged, looking a little embarrassed as he leaned against his car. “I guess. It still feels a little strange to hand over control to someone else.”

“Don’t think about it like that. Just… I don’t know, think of it like a blind date where you
know
you’re compatible with that person. It’s not like it’s your great-aunt’s friend’s sister-in-law’s niece from church, you know?”

“But what does it mean if I’m not feeling her? I’m doing this for Des, but I’m not gonna pretend.”

I stepped in front him, looking him right in the eyes. “It means you’re
just not feeling her
. That happens. It’s not a perfect science. People are still individuals. No matter what my program or my ‘gut’ says, if one of you doesn’t feel a spark, it’s not the right match, and we move on. Okay?”