Chapter One
It seemed like all of New York City was awake on the morning of Lily Vance’s twenty-third birthday to celebrate with her. Gliding through Central Park, her running strides long and easy, she inhaled the gorgeous August morning and adjusted the volume on her headphones so that the soundtrack to her life took over. When she stopped near the pond, she stretched her arms over her head and checked her phone to see eleven messages and four missed calls. Everyone she loved had already reached out to wish her a happy birthday. Her heart swelled.
She called her mother, Rebecca Sutton, first. “Mom!”
Immediately, Rebecca launched into a dramatic version of the happy birthday song, bellowing it. Lily could picture her mother’s face as she sang, her eyes closed in concentration, and she laughed until her mother finished the final word.
“That was beautiful.” Lily walked back toward her apartment on the Upper West Side. Birds twittered in the trees, as though eager to keep the song going. “Are you finally going to record an album? Your fans are waiting.”
Rebecca giggled. “Your sarcasm is really something, Lily Vance. How is my twenty-three-year-old daughter doing?”
Lily searched her mind and heart and found the integral, forever truth. Despite all the joy in her life, she missed her father and wished he were still alive. Since they’d lost him a few years ago, it had felt like every member of Lily’s family—from Rebecca to Shelby to Chad—had re-evaluated what it meant to move through the world. Lily had been a student at Columbia University back then, unsure if she’d make it to graduation. Miraculously, she graduated this past May.
But there was still an emptiness, an ache in her stomach that reminded her that nothing would be as light and easy as it had once been.
When Lily reached the front door of her apartment building, she said a final “I love you” to her mother and got off the phone, eager to shower and run off to work. But when she rode the elevator to the eighth floor and stepped into her apartment, she called out, “Hello?” because she sensed something was wrong. Her apartment was too quiet, too dark. Her heart shattering in her chest, she tiptoed through the foyer, removing her running shoes and searching. Like all women, she’d read numerous horror stories about break-ins in the big city. An instinctual part of her told her to turn around, get back on the elevator, and get away.
But suddenly, she heard a familiar voice. “Lily, come in here! I need your help with something.”
Realizing it was just her boyfriend, Lily breathed a sigh of relief and padded into the kitchen to find him. She considered telling him that she’d thought he was an intruder, but thought better of it when she entered to find him flipping chocolate chip pancakes and wearing an adorable apron. She’d given him a key for just this reason, hadn’t she? She sprang toward him and covered his face with kisses. “I didn’t know you were coming over!” she cried. “You’re a sneak.”
Liam’s smile was enormous. Abandoning the pancakes for a moment, he kissed her gently, then more deeply. Then he ordered her to sit down at the kitchen table, poured her a mug of coffee, and asked her about her run. Liam was about as uninterested in running as he was in marketing and matchmaking—both of Lily’s chosen monetary pursuits—but he was a good listener, his dark eyes widening at all the correct times. “I could never run as far as you,” he said, sliding a few perfectly cooked pancakes onto her plate. “You’re brilliant at everything you do.”
Lily stuck out her tongue. “You’re just saying that because you have to. It’s my birthday.”
But suddenly, Liam was on his knee, his hands on her thighs. His eyes went glassy and filled with panic. For her part, Lily stopped breathing. Never had she imagined that Liam would propose, especially not when she was glossy with sweat and still breathing hard from her run. But a woman couldn’t choose when a man asked her to spend the rest of her life with him. All a woman could do was search her heart and discover if her love for him was enough.
“I know we haven’t been together very long.” Liam wrapped his massive hands around hers. “But I’m head over heels for you, Lily. I want to be with you for the rest of our days. I want to know you when you’re old, when your hair is gray, when you want to eat prunes and go out to dinner at four in the afternoon. I want to have children with you. Marry me.”
It was a gorgeous and heartfelt speech, filled with stutters and pauses that made Lily weak. When he was finished, she threw her arms around him and kissed his cheek. “Of course I’ll marry you.” She realized only after the fact that she hadn’t hesitated at all, which surprised her. But she’d been so empty the past few years, searching for answers. It struck her as obvious. The answer was to get married and build a family with Liam.
When she drew back, Liam hurried to his backpack and retrieved the ring, explaining that he’d wanted to propose tonight at dinner. He’d had everything arranged in his head—champagne and glinting lights and their very best outfits. “But I saw you at the kitchen table and realized that now was the time. Now, when nobody else is around.”
Lily was no longer hungry. When faced with a lifetime with the man of your dreams, it felt almost impossible to return to a stack of pancakes. She extended her hand and watched as Liam put the ring on her finger. Her heartbeat intensified. She wondered whether she should call in to work today and say there was an emergency. What could the emergency be?I’m in love. Someone loves me. My life is about to be perfect.
Suddenly, Liam took her into his arms, and they danced through the kitchen, first slowly and then sped up, laughing as, out the window, Manhattan brightened into another hot August day. Lily had tears in her eyes. “We’re getting married!” she said again and again.
Last May, Lily graduated from Columbia University with a degree in business and marketing and a minor in English literature and painting. After that, she’d taken an internship at a fashion magazine in Lower Manhattan, which paid very little but promised “future benefits and contacts that will maximize the trajectory of your career.” It was to those offices that Lily went the morning of her birthday, smiling from ear to ear until she rode the elevator to the thirty-third floor and stepped into yet another birthday party. Everyone from her bosses to her bosses’ supervisors, to the other interns, was there with pastries and little presents: a journal, a few books, a set of paintbrushes, anda plant for her desk. Lily felt intoxicated from all this attention. It didn’t take long for someone to notice her engagement ring, either, since it was five carats and so big and flashy on her finger. Everyone shrieked and demanded the story. She told bits and pieces of it, conscious that it was too simple for many of the women who craved grand, romantic proposals.
“Liam Reynolds!” her boss said, shaking her head. “You got him when nobody else could.”
Lily’s lips quivered into a nervous smile. It was true that her future husband had once been a sought-after bachelor in New York City, and numerous semi-famous women had set their sights on him. He was from a prominent family, was, interestingly, half Japanese, and was an up-and-coming actor. The fact that he’d wanted to date Lily, she remembered now, had initially come as a shock. But now he was just Liam, her beloved, her future.
It wasn’t for another hour and a half that she managed to get to her desk and get some work done. There was just so much to talk about. Twenty minutes after that, her co-intern, Georgia, approached tentatively and whispered, “I want to talk to you. When you have time.”
Lily gave her a thumbs-up.
Georgia was one of Lily’s clients in the matchmaking arena. Becoming a matchmaker had happened to Lily sort of by accident after she’d put together a few dates back at Columbia and learned she had a knack for it. Most of those pairings had ended up in engagements or across-the-country moves post-graduation and were still happy to this day. When other Columbia University students began seeking Lily out for her matchmaking help, she thought,Can I do this as a side hustle?It had surprised her to realize that she could charge basically whatever she wanted. People wanted partners, they wantedcompanionship, they wanted love. They were tired of dating apps. A matchmaker was the perfect compromise.
Georgia and Lily went to the break room, grabbed cups of coffee, and sat at the table with a gorgeous view over the city. Georgia couldn’t stop smiling. Lily half expected her to float off the chair and into the air above the fruit bowl.
“Lily, it was amazing,” Georgia said finally, her eyes flitting up to Lily’s. “Like, we connected about almost everything. He got all my jokes. He gave me so many compliments. I felt like I was on cloud nine.”
Lily remembered the man she’d selected for Georgia: three years older, a business grad with a financial background, and a lover of puppies. He’d just gotten out of a seven-year relationship, but Lily had pivoted this “problem” into proof that he could commit for the long term.
“I’m waiting on him to text me first,” Georgia said. “Unless you think I should write him?”
Lily only vaguely remembered this conundrum from her dating past. Were you supposed to text him first? Or should you wait and let him text you? Generally, Lily’s rule of thumb for her female clients was to play it cool. Patience was always a good thing. She passed this on to Georgia, then reminded her it was important to keep dating and not put too much pressure on this one “brilliant” guy. She paired Georgia up with another guy, an ex-hockey player turned financial guru. Georgia didn’t seem pleased.
