That wouldn’t be helpful. She'd probably tell him to see a therapist.
Annika was my true love.
In hindsight, he could admit that there were things about her that had driven him crazy. Surely he'd done the same to her. If she'd only talked to him, maybe they could've worked things out.
I have nothing left to give.
The truest answer of all, but one he wasn’t about to share with this virtual stranger—or anybody for that matter.
He never should have brought the matchmaker up here. He'd agreed to the meeting because Mother had pushed. He'd meant to dismiss her quickly, but she'd surprised him with her sass, and something underneath her attitude made him think of kicking a puppy when he'd wanted to turn her off.
He'd said the words agreeing to four dates without thinking. He was a man of his word. He'd go through with them. But he wasn't going to find a match.
"I'm quite over what happened with my brother." His cool tone gave voice to the lie, but he couldn't look at her as he said it. He flipped open his laptop, unlocking it with a few keystrokes. It was a matter of a few seconds to pull up his diary.
"I have a state dinner a week from today. I'll bring a guest of your choice. You can make arrangements with Conrad. She'll need to be cleared by palace security."
She stared at him as if he'd lost his marbles. Maybe he had.
"You want to take a first date to a state dinner? I assume it's black tie."
He nodded.
"And you want me to choose someone for you after a fifteen minute meeting?"
"Is that a problem?" He hadn't fired her, but maybe she would quit.
He could see the wheels turning in her mind. There was a tiny part of him that wondered if she could do it, could find someone to bring his heart to life again.
Then he dismissed the thought. He would settle for companionship. That was enough. It had to be.
"If you don't mind, I have a full schedule today." He knew he was being rude, but he didn't apologize.
"Fine." There was fire in her eyes as she stood and straightened her skirt. In the blouse and business attire, he wouldn't have given her a second glance if he'd seen her at an event or in public.
But there was a spray of freckles across the bridge of her nose that he'd noticed on the beach, and now he'd couldn't stop noticing them.
She was utterly unremarkable, except for those freckles.
He decided he didn't like them.
"Thank you for your time," she said stiffly. She flounced from the room. A moment later, he realized she'd left her bag on the floor beside her chair.
He heard the outer door open and close.
No matter. He'd have Conrad return the bag to her.
His desk phone rang with the distinct tone that meant it was his private line, one that only a handful of people had access to.
He picked it up without glancing at the display.
"Valentin. Don't hang up."
Max.
Hearing his brother's voice brought back a visceral memory of those last moments. Annika's lips, swollen and bee-stung after kissing his brother. Max's flashing, unapologetic stare. The crippling pain of betrayal.
"What part of 'I never want to speak to you again' was unclear to you?"
