Not Your Match
Andi doesn’t believe in matchmaking. But when her best friend buys her a subscription to Toujour, a professional matchmaking service, she agrees to give it a try. She’s matched with a celebrity client, but he can’t make her heart flutter or her limbs turn to mush the way Ben, her best friend’s brother, can with a simple smile.
When Ben’s fiancée calls off their wedding—for the third time—he flees to Los Angeles, desperate for a new beginning. He moves in across the hall from Andi, his high school ballroom dance partner and his sister’s best friend. Despite nursing a broken heart, his long-forgotten crush flares to life. He’s just beginning to believe he can move past his breakup, and maybe even ask Andi out, when his ex-fiancée shows up on New Year’s Eve, determined to win him back.
Dating the wrong people has convinced both Ben and Andi that what they really want is each other. All that’s standing in their way is a fake boyfriend, a jealous ex-fiancée, and being afraid to risk their hearts.
Other Books by Lindzee Armstrong
No Match for Love Series
Other Books
Copyright
©
2015 by Lindzee Armstrong
Published by Snowflake Press
All rights reserved. This book is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents are either a product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual events, locales, or persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental. No part of this book can be reproduced in any form or by electronic or mechanical means, including information storage and retrieval systems, without the express written permission of the author.
Cover Design by Novak Illustrations
Interior Design by Snowflake Press
Edited by Kelley Gerschke
Tooele, UT
ISBN 978-0-9863632-5-2
Library of Congress Control Number 2015917240
Dedicated to my dad, who taught me that reading opens up a whole new world. You’re still my favorite person to talk books with. I love you!
Andi was reasonably certain she’d be trapped in the stifling conference room until the end of time. It was going to take that long for her supposedly-in-love client to reach an agreement on the prenup.
At least it wasn’t another divorce case. Though Andi hadn’t ever been married, she and Mark had been together for seven years, and divorce cases reminded her of their messy breakup.
Andi leaned back in her padded chair and shot Miss Deborah Barrett another glance. Andi hadn’t bothered to find Deborah’s age in her file, but she was pretty sure Deborah was barely old enough to buy alcohol. She wore a low-cut blouse, which emphasized her bought-and-paid-for chest, and had the leathery, tanned skin of someone who’d spent too much time at the Santa Monica Pier with not enough sunscreen. Her arms were folded tight, further emphasizing her breasts, and her eyebrows were pulled down over heavily made-up eyes.
“I don’t see why you won’t agree to an extra grand a month,” Deborah said.
Her fiancé, Mr. Trevor Daniels, snorted. “An extra grand a month, paid out over seven years, is eighty-four thousand dollars.” Trevor was at least twice Deborah’s age. His graying hair was trimmed short, and his charcoal suit spoke of the money his Beverly Hills plastic surgery practice afforded him.
Andi honestly had no idea how the two of them ended up together. Aside from a mutual love of plastic surgery and wealth, the two seemed to have nothing in common.
Scratch that—she knew exactly why they ended up together.
Deborah unfolded her arms and leaned across the table, grasping her fiancé’s hand. “Trev, this is silly.” Her voice dripped sweetness. “We aren’t going to get divorced, so why does the amount matter?”
“Exactly.” Trevor forced a smile. “It shouldn’t matter at all.”
Andi barely withheld an eye roll. She understood why couples wanted prenups, but all they seemed to accomplish was breeding distrust. Most of her clients were less soul mates destined for an eternity of happiness and more gold diggers looking for a nice alimony check after they did their time. Trevor and Deborah were getting married in a month, and instead of arguing over china patterns, they were in a stuffy attorney’s office arguing over who got what when they eventually divorced.
Andi’s eyes wandered from the four carat rock on Deborah’s finger to her own bare one. If Mark had proposed six months ago instead of leaving Andi for another woman, would they have decided a prenup was necessary? Probably. And that should’ve told her all she needed to know about the relationship. She’d been an idiot not to dump him first. In the end, relationships weren’t worth the trouble.
“The two of you are going to have to compromise,” Andi said. She tried not to glance at the clock on the wall. It had to be close to six, which gave her an hour to finish up this contract, buy a birthday present for her best friend, and get to the party. She was so going to be late.
“Yes, a compromise,” Holly cut in. She was Trevor’s lawyer, and one of Andi’s favorite co-workers. Holly was a few years older than Andi, slender and pretty, but fierce in court. Where Andi hated the divorce and prenuptial aspects of family law, Holly seemed to thrive on it. “I think an extra five hundred a month is more than fair for both of you.” She glanced at Andi for confirmation, and Andi nodded. Anything to get out of this office.
“Okay,” Trevor said. “But I want the bearded dragon as well.”
If Andi weren’t such a professional, she would’ve snorted.
Deborah let out a gasp. “I’ve had Maurice since he was a baby.”
“And yet somehow I’m the one who cleans his cage and makes sure he gets fed. He likes me better than you.”
“My mother gave me that dragon as a graduation present.”
“Yeah, and you’re still upset Maurice wasn’t a Porsche.”
“If you loved me half as much as you love Maurice, maybe we wouldn’t need a prenup.”
Ten minutes later, Trevor relented and agreed Deborah could keep the dragon. Andi and Holly stood shoulder to shoulder and watched them disappear into the elevator. The doors closed and the elevator descended, taking a weight off Andi’s shoulders.
Four years of undergrad work, three years at Stanford Law, and she was reduced to hearing couples bicker about bearded dragons. The only difference between divorce cases and prenups was that in the latter, couples at least pretended sweetness.
Were all relationships doomed to failure? The longer she worked in family law, the more she marveled that she and Mark had lasted so long.
This wasn’t what she’d imagined herself doing as a lawyer. But junior associates didn’t get to pick their cases, even if their dad was a partner at the firm. Not after only a year on the job. So for now, she’d continue working divorces, with the occasional prenup or adoption case sprinkled in.
Andi should’ve stuck with ballroom dancing, whatever Mark’s opinion on the matter. At least she would’ve have an outlet for her stress. Her mind floated back to Ben, her high school dance partner and best friend’s older brother. Together they had commanded the dance floor. He’d had a way of effortlessly gliding around the room, dipping and swaying and tossing her along with the music. The few times she’d danced with Mark, his movements had been stiff and bumbling, turning dancing into a chore. She still regretted not snagging Ben for a slow song when they’d both been at his sister’s wedding last year. But Andi had been busy with her maid-of-honor duties, and she hadn’t wanted to upset Mark.
“I didn’t think we’d ever reach an agreement,” Holly said. She leaned against the wall of the conference room and folded her arms. The hallway was eerily quiet, most of the office doors shut tight. “I give that couple two years, tops.”
“I’ll take that bet. I give them six months.” Andi hated how jaded lawyers in family practice were, but after a year of doing it herself, she understood why. The breakup with Mark hadn’t helped her perception. The fact that he hadn’t actually cheated on her didn’t ease the sting of him leaving for another woman.
“Loser buys dinner for the winner.” Holly stuck out her hand, and they shook on it.
“Got any fun plans for tonight?” Andi asked.
“Just a date with my television. Aren’t you going to a birthday party?”
“Yes, and I’m running late. Rachel’s already going to harass me for showing up solo.”
“She still feels guilty about the breakup, huh?”
“Yes, and she’s convinced the only way to fix things is to find me a boyfriend.” But the last thing Andi wanted right now was another relationship. It wasn’t worth the hassle.
Back in her office, Andi grabbed the files for her most pressing cases and looked around, making sure she hadn’t forgotten anything. The screen on her computer was dark, pens neatly arranged near the keyboard. She picked up the scratch paper she’d used that day and ran it through the shredder. She put the books stacked on her desk back in their proper place on the bookcase.