Not Your Match (2 page)

Her eyes landed on the box next to the bookcase. It was taped shut, with Mark’s New York address on the label. She’d looked at that box every day for three months. It didn’t contain anything important, just a few things she’d found lying around the condo—a sweatshirt, a few books, an engraved fountain pen—but she needed to send it to him and close that chapter of her life for good.

Tomorrow,
Andi promised herself as she flipped off the lights. She’d take a lunch break—her first one in months—and deliver the box to the post office if it killed her.

Too bad it didn’t contain anything she could pass off as a present for Rachel. Stopping by the mall would make Andi even later for the party, but she couldn’t give a card with cash. Again.

In her car, Andi analyzed traffic on the GPS. Even without a mall stop, the quickest route showed her arriving at Rachel’s at 7:32. She’d have to stop by the grocery store near Rachel’s for a card and write her an IOU for . . . something. Maybe a sweater or a purse.

Andi fiddled with the radio, settling on her favorite salsa station. Her foot tapped against the floorboard as she sat in traffic, and she longed to wrap her arms around a tall gentleman and dance. Her mind flashed back to Ben. His arms had always felt strong and secure. She’d taken every dip and jump knowing he’d catch her. No other partner had made her heart race with the quick step and her limbs melt with a waltz.

She missed dancing. Somewhere along the way, she’d let her enthusiasm for law—and Mark’s opinion—influence her away from it. Come to think of it, she missed Ben. He’d made her laugh, and the hours they spent practicing were the highlight of her day. He’d poked fun at his missteps in practice and hadn’t constantly lectured her about focusing on the future.

The song ended, and a commercial came on for a day spa. Perfect. She could write Rachel an IOU for manicures and pedicures. The commercial ended, and the DJs started discussing the latest celebrity gossip.

“Ladies, you’ll want to listen to this,” the female radio announcer said. “In case you live under a rock and haven’t heard, Luke Ryder is looking for a girlfriend. Yes, that’s right. Billionaire CEO of Ryder Communications signed with the dating service Toujour. Now’s your chance!”

“Why is a billionaire bothering with online dating?” the male announcer asked. “It’s not like he has a shortage of interested women.”

“You can’t believe everything you read in the tabloids.”

“Yeah, but he’s a freakin’ billionaire. He’s young, he’s attractive, and he’s rich. Women must be pounding down his door. A matchmaker seems like a weird choice.”

“Toujour’s not just online dating—it’s a full-service matchmaking company,” the female announcer said. “They claim they can find your soul mate.”

Andi snorted. There was no such thing as a soul mate, and even if there was, she doubted a dating company could help her find hers. Not that she was looking. Being single suited her fine.

At the grocery store, Andi picked the shortest checkout line and waited for the person in front of her. She tapped the birthday card against her leg, glancing at her cell. 7:42. This side trip would cost her at least fifteen minutes. The spiky-haired cashier popped her gum as she slowly scanned items, as though she knew Andi was in a rush and deliberately wanted to aggravate her.

“Andi?”

The woman standing in line behind her was tall and slender. Her russet-colored hair was pulled up in a top-knot, and her face was clean of makeup. It had been almost six years since Andi had seen her, but she’d recognize those pronounced cheekbones and sparkling eyes anywhere.

“Elle!” Andi wrapped her arms around the woman and laughed. “It’s been ages.”

“At least five years,” Elle agreed. “I see your posts on Facebook sometimes, but it’s good to see you in person. You’re working at your dad’s law firm, right?”

“Yeah, I’ve been there about a year.”

“I always knew you would do it. In college, you couldn’t stop talking about practicing law at your dad’s firm. I’m so happy for you.”

“Thank you,” Andi said. She only wished the reality was as great as her dream had been. “What about you? I see you post pictures sometimes so I assume you still dance. Are you competing?”

“Not anymore. I work for a charity now—Footsteps for Change. We offer free dance classes to underprivileged children.”

A whisper of jealousy sliced through Andi. What would it be like to help others for a living? But she pushed it away. She would get to pick her cases and focus on adoptions and domestic violence cases—family law that would help instead of hurt—soon enough. “Elle, that’s fantastic.”

“I really love it. A lot of research has proven that extracurriculars keep kids out of trouble, and dance helps develop their brains. We have a crisis center that’s open twenty-four hours a day so they have somewhere safe to escape to when things get tough at home. It’s exhausting trying to get the charity up and running, but rewarding too.”

“Your total’s $6.32,” the cashier said, popping her gum.

Andi fished her debit card out of her wallet and swiped it. “I wish I could stay and chat, but I’m late for a party.”

Elle withdrew a business card from her purse. “Give me a call sometime. We’re always looking for volunteers willing to teach a few times a month. You’d be perfect for it.”

“I don’t dance anymore.” The answer was a reflex, born from years of turning down anything that might interfere with her plans for law.

“All the more reason to come teach. Do you have a card? I’ll call you.”

Andi thought of all the reasons she’d quit dance—the time it had taken away from studying, the physical toll on her body. Mark’s disapproval. “I’m pretty busy these days. But it does sound fun.”

“We can work something out.”

Andi didn’t have time to argue. She pulled a business card out of her wallet and handed it over. “I’m sorry I have to run off. We’ll talk later.”

“Definitely. It was nice seeing you, Andi.”

“You too.” Andi grabbed her receipt and bag, then waved goodbye.

She should’ve told Elle no upfront. She didn’t have time for ballroom dance, and she didn’t have a partner. Ben—the only partner she’d felt completely in sync with—now lived in Arizona with his fiancée.

She didn’t want to dance if it wasn’t with him. It was one of the reasons she’d quit after completing her undergrad degree. None of her college dance partners had held a candle to Ben.

Andi floored it, and pulled onto Rachel’s crowded street at 7:57 p.m. Nearly an hour late. Christmas lights lined the eaves of the house, and three wire reindeer grazed in the front yard. The porch light illuminated the giant evergreen wreath on the front door. Andi put the car in park and walked up the stately driveway.

She knocked on the door, stooping low to avoid the boughs of the wreath. A few moments later, she heard footsteps. But they were heavy—not the light steps that accompanied Rachel. Her husband, Adam, maybe? Andi glanced at her phone. 7:58.

The door swung open. Andi dropped her phone in her purse and glanced up, then blinked in surprise. A lanky figure. Toffee-colored hair that looked as though he’d recently run his fingers through it. Chocolate-brown eyes and a five o’clock shadow.

Rachel’s brother. Andi’s favorite dance partner.

It was Ben.

Andi threw her arms around his neck, laughing. “Ben! I was just thinking about you today.”

Ben returned her hug, and a zing shot up her spine. His arms felt familiar and comforting. She had the sudden urge to nuzzle closer.

Whoa. She was really losing it if hugging Ben—the boy who, sure, had been hot, but more like a brother than potential boyfriend—made her feel all fluttery.

“I hope you were remembering me fondly and not cursing all the times I stepped on your toes or dropped you in practice.” His voice was deep and raspy, just as she remembered it, sliding over her like hot chocolate on a cold day.

“I never remember you stepping on my toes, but I do remember getting dropped in practice once,” Andi teased. “My butt was sore for a week.”

Ben grimaced, motioning her inside. “Sorry about that. But in my defense, you were busy ogling Daniel Kim instead of paying attention.”

“Exchange students were my kryptonite. I couldn’t help myself.” Andi shut the door behind her. The open floor plan allowed her to see through the sliding glass doors in the kitchen to the back patio filled with people under heat lamps and around the fire pit.

“A likely excuse. All the girls were obsessed with him that year.”

Andi laughed. “So what are you doing here? Did you come all the way from Arizona for Rachel’s birthday, or are you here for Christmas too?”

Ben ran a hand through his hair. “Didn’t Rachel tell you? I moved back. Adam knew someone, and I got a job at a charter school a few minutes away. I start after winter break.”

Ben was back in town. Her stomach swarmed with butterflies. What was wrong with her? “I haven’t talked to Rachel much the last couple of weeks. Things have been crazy at work.”

“Well, I only found out about the job a week ago.”

“That’s great that you’ve moved back.”

The sliding door opened, and Rachel stepped inside. She wore a festive red Christmas sweater that showcased her trim figure, and black leggings with white reindeer on them. Her bangs were pulled back with bobby pins, adding another layer to her short bob. She smiled when she saw Andi and ran across the room, throwing her arms around her in a hug. “I worried you weren’t going to make it. I’m so glad you’re here.”

“I got tied up at work.” Andi swatted Ben on the arm. “Why didn’t you tell me this guy was moving back?”

“I thought I mentioned it.” Rachel shrugged. “Guess I forgot. Food’s on the counter. Grab a plate and come out. It feels great with the heat lamps and fire. We’re roasting s’mores soon.”

Andi handed the card to Rachel. “Happy birthday.”

Rachel opened it, her eyes scanning the hastily scrawled note, then squealed. “Mani-pedis with my bestie? I’m holding you to this.”

“We’ll go soon,” Andi promised.

Rachel turned to Ben. “You take care of this girl tonight. I don’t want her slipping out early to go home and work.”

Ben wrapped an arm around Andi. A shiver shot down her spine, a response that had her struggling not to giggle.

“I won’t let her out of my sight,” Ben promised.

“Perfect.” Rachel gave Andi another hug, then hurried out to the backyard.

“So how’ve you been?” Ben asked, following Andi to the kitchen table with its wide array of food.

Andi shot Ben a sideways glance. “I know that tone. Rach told you about Mark.”

“She feels awful.”

Andi groaned. “She has
to stop blaming herself. If Mark and I couldn’t hack long distance, then we wouldn’t have been able to hack a marriage.”

Ben rubbed the back of his neck. “You know Rach. She feels responsible since she hooked him up with the contact in New York.”

“She might’ve hurried along the process, but he always had his sights set on bigger and better things than local journalism.” Andi should’ve realized in high school that his ambitions spelled doom for their relationship. Instead, she’d wasted seven years on him. She wouldn’t make that mistake again.

“So, how are you?”

Andi sighed. “Honestly, it’s been rough. I haven’t been single since I was a sophomore in high school.” And apparently being single transformed her into a hormone-crazed sixteen-year-old melting over any guy who smiled, regardless of his availability.
Ben was engaged, for crying out loud. She needed to pull herself together.

“Mark didn’t deserve you anyway. He was kind of self-involved.”

“He was a jerk,” Andi agreed. “But he knew what he wanted out of life and wasn’t afraid to go get it.” Even if it meant leaving her behind. Andi grabbed a plate and piled it with food. She took a bun and loaded it up before adding a burger. “So tell me about your life. Did Whitney come with you to L.A., or is she still in Arizona?”

Ben looked away. “We broke up.”

Andi fumbled the salad tongs, dropping lettuce awkwardly on her plate. “Oh, Ben. I’m so sorry. I didn’t know.”

“Things had been rocky for a while, and she didn’t want to stick around to work it out.” He rolled his shoulders. “So here I am in Los Angeles. When Adam mentioned the possible job, I jumped at the opportunity.”