Page 20 of Love’s a Script (Hearts Collide #1)
Chapter Twenty
Excerpt from the official Hearts Collide Matchmaking training manual
IV. The matchmaker/client relationship
The best relationships are built on trust. That’s the same for the matchmaker/client relationship. The following should be considered to keep the dynamics as strong as possible:
Your client list is not your dating pool.
Remain courteous and warm, but remember, your clients are not your friends.
Avoid romantic involvements with clients.
If a romance cannot be avoided and a relationship is pursued, the client’s membership at the agency will be terminated. Membership will not be reinstated if parties break up.
* * *
Nearly a week had passed since the blizzard that had cloaked part of the province for days, and in that time, Mary had tried to convince herself that what had happened in the hotel room with Ruben didn’t have to change anything.
She could do her job, and they could carry on as they had before that wonderful kiss, which existed in the same lawless plane that made it possible to day-drink at the airport and not have a problem.
However, every time she tried to open up Ruben’s file to do said job, she was struck with such profound embarrassment that left her wanting to lobotomize herself.
But with no surgical experience, she only had one real solution.
“Are you able to take over a client’s account for me?
” Mary asked Eden. They sat in Eden’s office, Mary in the seat clients always occupied, feeling truly humbled.
Transferring matchmaking duties was not an unusual practice in the agency, but it was typically done for logistical reasons or a matchmaker’s familiarity with a demographic.
“Maybe,” Eden said. “Who’s the client?”
Mary took a breath. “Ruben Byers.”
One of Eden’s thin eyebrows rose on her face. “The radio show host?”
“Yes,” Mary said as she readied herself for follow-up questions. Eden was perceptive enough to probably deduce that Mary’s previously expressed attraction had since complicated.
“Are you in love with him?” Eden asked as rotely as you would for the time.
“No.”
“Did you sleep with him?”
“No,” Mary said, but couldn’t quite get herself to admit what did happen. The conversation was mortifying as it was.
Eden reached for her tablet and spent close to a minute tapping and swiping, undoubtedly checking her schedule, before looking up and saying, “All right. Send me his files and relevant information.”
“Thank you,” Mary said, feeling the heaviness that had hounded her chest for the last week ease, “and I’m sorry for the extra work.”
Mary wondered if her colleague judged her, but she tried hard not to care because either way she was getting help.
“Would you like to be kept in the loop about his progress?” Eden asked.
“It’s okay. You can handle it like you would any of your other clients.” She needed to close the chapter on Ruben.
“Have you told Cassidy?”
“Not yet, but I will. You don’t have to worry about that.” Mary was dreading that talk, though.
“If you want,” Eden said, “we can tell her you wanted him to experience different matchmakers and get a feel for the agency as a whole.”
Mary’s surprise must’ve telegraphed onto her face because Eden added, “I thought it would be unnecessary to make the transfer a thing. Especially, you know, with the cruise lead announcement around the corner.”
It was an incredibly kind offer. One Mary would never have requested, but it saved her from the experience of telling her boss that her efforts to do good by the agency had been thwarted by an instance of unprofessionalism. If they’d been closer friends, Mary might’ve hugged Eden then.
* * *
Ruben wasn’t expecting anyone when his apartment doorbell sounded on a weekend afternoon.
“Open up!” squawked his cousin over the intercom.
He buzzed Junie in, and she arrived at his door carrying a snow sled.
“Special delivery,” she greeted, hauling the sled into his arms before slipping past him into the apartment and shucking off her boots and bohemian-style wrap jacket.
“I thought I was picking it up from your place,” he said, propping the sled against a wall as Junie made herself comfortable on his couch.
“Yeah, so did I. That’s why I got it from storage and put it out at the front. But it’s been three days, and it’s becoming an eyesore.”
“Sorry.” He sighed. “Work’s been busy.”
The Blizzard Long Weekend, as it was referred to, had damaged a power line near the station, so while repairs were made, the displaced All Intents and Purposes team had relied on different studios for their broadcasts all week, creating more work and unique stresses.
“You want a drink?” he asked, stepping into his kitchen.
“Yeah, whatever you got is fine.”
He returned to the living room minutes later with a large bowl of microwaved popcorn and soft drinks, and Junie stopped skimming the selection of streaming shows on his television to partake. “I’m guessing the sledding date was Matchmaker Mary’s idea,” Junie said.
“No, why?”
“Because I haven’t seen you play in the snow since we were kids.”
“I do have the capacity for fun and adventure,” he said. “Also, Mary’s not my matchmaker anymore.”
“Wait, you’re done already?”
“No, I’m still at the agency. I’m just working with someone new.”
It would be an adjustment going from Mary to Eden, who, while an attentive and adept matchmaker, couldn’t be accused of being warm or overly friendly. She might’ve half smiled once during their first meeting.
“Why? What happened?” Junie asked, looking concerned.
“It was something to do with her schedule,” he said calmly. The email Ruben had received informing him he’d no longer be working with Mary had cited a vague logistical conflict that might’ve made sense if he’d read it slower, but he knew it was simply a cover for the real reason.
He’d tried to banish the details of that kiss with Mary—the heat and pull of her hands around his neck, her petal-soft lips, the ease with which her body had pressed against his—but still, they plagued him.
If she hadn’t created distance between them, he would have in order to regain some professional detachment and preserve the integrity of his reporting.
The feature and the radio show at large were his most important pursuits, and he’d been reminded of that when he’d walked into the studio at the start of the week and found it void of buzzing lights and whirring equipment.
It reminded him of the recurring nightmares he’d suffered during the months his show was being threatened with cancellation, where he’d find himself standing in a lifeless studio.
“That seems kinda unprofessional to drop a client like that,” his cousin said. “Didn’t she know her schedule before taking you on?”
“It’s not a big deal. Things come up.”
“Okay, but what if you were attached?”
He shrugged. “I wasn’t.”
Junie didn’t say anything after that for a while, resuming her search for a program for them to watch. He’d thought she’d dropped the subject until she suddenly turned to him, smiling. “Oh, I know what happened with your matchmaker!”
Ruben tensed but, as casually as he could, asked, “What?”
“All those days in a hotel room together,” Junie said. “I bet you got on her nerves so bad. You probably said something to offend her, and she couldn’t do her job without wanting to smack you upside the head.”
“Hm,” Ruben said, relaxing. “You might be right.”
“Not might. Definitely. You can be a real pain in the ass sometimes.”
Junie was a sounding board for Ruben on many things, including relationships. So, as easy as it would’ve been to be honest about Mary, he knew it would precipitate a long, interrogating conversation that he didn’t feel like having. Especially now that Mary and that kiss were all in the past.