Miss Match (8 page)

“If she’d add an online dating branch to the company, we’d be doing fine.” Zoey unclicked her seatbelt and they got out of the car.

“Don’t you dare
suggest it.” Brooke locked the door and they walked toward the building. “Have you forgotten Janet?”

“’Course not.” Zoey scowled. Janet had been fired on the spot for suggesting online dating. “I’m just saying Charlotte’s being an idiot.”

The open sign in Toujour’s front window wasn’t lit, but the front door swung open when Brooke gave it a try. The space felt empty without Lianna at the desk. The silence where Christmas music usually played made the whole thing seem even more foreboding.

They wandered past reception and through the cubicles. People were visible through the clear glass of the boardroom.

“The
Jaws
theme song is playing on repeat in my head,” Zoey said.

“I’m sure Charlotte has some new idea she wants us to try on how to drum up business.”

“Ugh. Please tell me she isn’t bringing more people over from the French office.”

Brooke grimaced. A few months ago, Charlotte had brought her top matchmakers over from France for an intensive two week training session with all the matchmakers. To say there’d been some culture clash would be putting it mildly. “Let’s get in there so we can figure it out.”

The boardroom was already mostly full with employees. Toujour wasn’t a large company—a staff of around twenty, most of them matchmakers. All the chairs around the large oval table were taken, so Brooke and Zoey took seats at the back of the room.

“My hands are sweating,” Zoey said.

“Join the club. Where’s Charlotte?”

Just then Charlotte walked into the room, the last of the employees trailing after her. They quickly took their seats and settled down. Lianna stood at the front of the room, counting heads. “Everyone’s here,” she told Charlotte.

“Good,” Charlotte said in a thick French accent. “Then let us begin.”

Everyone looked at Charlotte expectantly. She took a deep breath, placing her hands on the board table in front of her. Her French manicure stood out starkly against the chocolate of her skin. “I’m sure you’re all aware of how slow business has been the last few months. The last ten years, if we’re being honest. Things never got off the ground like I hoped they would when I opened Toujour, and it’s been—what’s the American expression?—‘uphill’ ever since.”

“I think you mean ‘downhill,’” Lianna said.

Charlotte scowled. “Downhill is easy, not hard. None of your American expressions make sense.” She sighed. “That’s not the point. What I mean to say is that Americans don’t appreciate matchmaking the way the Europeans do. Our numbers haven’t increased since my French staff came three months ago. Toujour is still losing money and I’ve made a difficult decision. Unless we can turn things around in the next three months, I’m closing the business.”

The room went from silent to thunderous before Brooke could blink. Her heart thudded. Her pulse throbbed in her neck.

“You can’t just close,” Lianna said loudly at the front of the room.

“What’ll we do?” one of the matchmakers asked.

We have to fix this.

“She gave us a time frame,” Brooke said to Zoey. “We’re not giving up just like that.” Brooke stood, raising her voice to be heard over the chatter. “You said three months. That means we have three months to change your mind, right?”
Please, let it be so.
She couldn’t lose Toujour. Not her dream job. She’d begged and harassed Charlotte as a college freshman until being hired as an intern, then worked her way into being Charlotte’s protégé, the top ranked matchmaker at the firm. All that hard work couldn’t be for nothing.

The room quieted down. People looked back and forth between Charlotte and Brooke.

“So we still have a chance?” someone asked.

Charlotte caught Brooke’s eyes. Her black corkscrew curls spiraled all over her head, and she wore a cheery yellow dress that set off her dark skin—and contrasted sharply with the room’s general mood. But Brooke couldn’t miss the circles underneath Charlotte’s eyes. The woman was exhausted. “I’ve tried everything I can think of to save the company and I’m out of ideas. So I’m bringing it to you.”

“What will you do if we close?” Zoey asked.

“I had planned to return to France soon regardless of what happens here. If I close the office, that’ll just speed up the process. I have five matchmaking firms thriving in Europe.” Her nose wrinkled in disgust. “Americans only want their online dating and temporary relationships. No one here is interested in real commitment.”

That’s not true! We just need to try harder.
Brooke had matched up dozens of couples interested in real commitment. That’s why she’d become a matchmaker. And she and Antonio had been matched. They were proof that Toujour worked.

“I want everyone to take a few days to think how we can make this work,” Charlotte said. “Submit your ideas to me, and on Friday I will announce which idea I have chosen. We have until Valentine’s Day to implement the idea and start turning a profit.”

If Toujour closed, where would Brooke go? There wasn’t another matchmaking firm in the state. Would Antonio agree to move if she found a position elsewhere? They couldn’t survive on only his income.

No. She couldn’t think like that. She would save Toujour.

Maybe if we start a Valentine’s Day campaign. Single people always get desperate around the holidays.

“You’re dismissed,” Charlotte said. “You’ve got thirty minutes until we open for the day. Start brainstorming ideas.”

The room broke apart and filled with a distressed buzz as people started talking.
That’s it—find a solution or you’re fired?
Desperation washed over Brooke in waves. There had to be something they hadn’t tried. Something that could save the company. She stood, pushing through the crowd of upset co-workers toward Charlotte’s retreating figure.

“Brooke,” Zoey called.

“I’ll be back,” Brooke muttered. Charlotte had five other firms to go home to, but Brooke’s career would disappear if Toujour closed.

It’s not like I’m surprised. I barely have enough clients to spend a full eight hours at work each day.
Brooke shrugged the thought aside. It didn’t matter. There had to be another way.

What if we do a special promotion—buy a three month package at a discounted price. We could use social media to spread the word.

The door to Charlotte’s office stood closed. Brooke knocked, then entered without waiting for a response. Charlotte looked up, her mouth opened and face scrunched in a scowl. She relaxed. “Oh, it’s just you. Come in, and close the door behind you.”

Brooke did as she was told, taking a seat in front of Charlotte’s desk. “I can’t believe you didn’t tell me,” Brooke said. Her voice sounded wounded, even to her own ears.

Charlotte looked up from the papers she leafed through. “I’m sorry about that, Brooke. But I didn’t tell anyone until that meeting. I didn’t want word to get out and cause a panic.” She turned back to her papers.

“So that’s it?”
I can’t believe this is happening.
“Turn a profit in three months or we’re done?”

Charlotte slammed the papers down on the desk. Brooke jumped in her chair.

“Do you think I want
to close Toujour? This was supposed to be my big break in the United States. But the company has been losing money for nine months. The fact is, Americans aren’t interested in traditional matchmaking.”

“I’m proof that’s not true.”

“Most
Americans don’t care, then. They don’t care that we can get them discounted tickets to sold out events, or reservations at the best restaurants. They don’t care that my matchmakers help them overcome their flaws and past relationship baggage. All they want is online dating, with its instant gratification and cheap monthly fee.”

“You talk like saving Toujour is impossible.” Brooke choked on the words.

“Toujour is thriving in Europe. Come with me, Brooke. Any office, your pick. Maybe Italy. Antonio would like to move home, wouldn’t he? You’re too talented not to continue on as a matchmaker.”

“Antonio and I want to stay here for at least five years. We have a plan.”

Charlotte sighed. “I’m sorry to hear that. I’ll write you an excellent recommendation, of course. You should have no trouble finding another position here. Maybe not as a matchmaker, but something. And when you do move to Europe, you’ll have a job with me.”

Luke. He can help. Give Charlotte a no-interest loan or something.

“I’m not moving to Europe.” Brooke placed her hands flat on the desk, splaying her fingers wide. “I’m friends with Luke Ryder. I’m sure he would be a financial backer for the company, if it’s money you need.” Brooke silently apologized for involving him without his knowledge. But she had to save Toujour. Matchmaking was the only thing she was truly good at.

And if matchmaking didn’t work, what did that say for her future with Antonio?

“All the money in the world isn’t going to help this place. It’s clients we need. Lots of them. And I don’t know how to make that happen.”

Brooke massaged her temples.
Think!
“There has to be something. Maybe if we start a refer-a-friend program with existing clients. Or what if we implement a free trial? Or maybe get a celebrity client to attract notice?”

Charlotte froze, her eyes locked on Brooke’s. “What did you say?”

“A celebrity client . . .” Brooke’s eyes widened. “Someone like Luke Ryder.” Brooke stared across the table at her boss. Had she really just suggested signing Luke as a client? Would he even consider it?

Charlotte leaned forward, her dark eyes sparkling. Brooke could almost see the circles underneath them disappearing. “If Luke Ryder were to sign up for Toujour’s services, women would flock to join.”

“They’d all want a chance at dating Luke,” Brooke said eagerly. “And then men would sign up, hoping for a chance to date all those beautiful women.”

“After a while, they’d all start to find real happiness. Things would—how do you say it?—‘iceball.’” Charlotte’s eyes darkened. “But Luke would have to really want to find a soul mate. If news got out that he was a marketing plant, my reputation would be destroyed.”

Brooke grimaced. Luke wasn’t really relationship material, and the situation with Candi wouldn’t help things. “Everyone’s looking for a lasting relationship, right? Some just don’t know it yet.”

“I’ve taught you well, Brooke.” Charlotte leaned back in her chair. “It’s all a spout dream. If I thought I could just ask a celebrity to sign, I would’ve done it months ago.”

“You aren’t friends with any celebrities. I am.”

“Do you really think Luke would do it?”

“He’ll sign if I asked him to.”
I’m sorry, Luke.

“Are you submitting this as your official proposal?”

Brooke nodded. “The best part is, we won’t even have to spend a lot of money on marketing—the media will give us all the free advertising we want if Luke’s involved.”

Slowly, Charlotte nodded. “Hopefully the media attention will be more positive in the future, and not like what happened at the gala. But I’m willing to take the risk. Unless someone comes up with a better idea, we’ll try it.”

“And if we turn a profit in three months, you’ll keep Toujour open.”

Charlotte smiled. “I’ll do you one better, Brooke. If this works, I’ll leave you as head of this office when I go back to France. I think you’re ready.”

Brooke’s eyes widened. “Are you serious?”

“Yes. I wouldn’t leave until I had trained you adequately, but you’re ready. I’m warning you though—it will take a miracle to turn this business around.”

“I’m counting on it.”

CHAPTER NINE

Luke sat straight up in bed,
gasping as icy water numbed his face. He spluttered, wiping it away with cold fingers. He blinked it out of his eyes, bringing Mitch into focus.

Luke swore, then swore again. “What was that for?”

Mitch smiled grimly. “The board has called an emergency meeting, and your presence is requested. I figured you hadn’t checked your email again and didn’t know. Since you apparently had a few nightcaps after I left last night, I couldn’t wake you up by conventional means. Get dressed. We don’t want to be late.”

Luke sank back against his sheets, then sat bolt upright as the water seeped into his shirt. “My bed’s all wet now.”

“Talia, make sure the housekeeper knows to change Luke’s sheets when she stops by today,” Mitch said.

“Sure, Snitch. I’ll tell her. Do you want me to start the shower for you, Luke?”

“Yes,” Mitch said.

“I was talking to Luke, Snitch.”

Mitch rolled his eyes. “When are you going to get that glitch fixed?”

“Start the shower, Talia.” Luke stood, pressing his feet into the heated carpet in a vain attempt to get warm. “I’m freezing.”

“I’m dead serious about this one, Luke. You want to be at this meeting.”