Chapter
One
Foster
The customer facing me at the counter is yapping away, but I’m not hearing a word, because a) Maddie March is not actually a customer but here to harass me about the Valentine Dance again, and b) through my shop window, I can see Ari Little standing in line at Cardinal Coffee, jumping up and down in the freezing cold.
What the hell is wrong with that woman?
“Are you listening to me, Foster?” Maddie asks, tapping the desk bell, which is meant to be used only when a customer needs assistance and staff are busy elsewhere in the store. The bell ringing is extremely annoying, but more irritating is the fact that Ari’s not dressed for February weather. Her faded blue jeans, fitted sweater, knit cap, and flimsy crochet scarf are not cutting it. The same goes for the Chuck Taylor sneakers. Those rubber toes freeze.
“Stop that,” I grumble, grabbing the desk bell and tossing it into the trash.
“Hey!”
“Take a number,” I say.
“There’s no one else in the store,” replies Maddie.
A minor detail, as I’m watching Ari wiggle and fidget to keep warm. Her sweet, full bottom looks extra bouncy in those cotton scrubs, too. Damn.
“We still need to do your birth chart.” Maddie taps her pen on the counter to get my attention. “And by the way, you haven’t filled out the entire personality test online yet.”
I tear my eyes away from Ari and glower at Maddie. “I’m working.”
“On what?” Maddie asks, gesturing around the room to the empty sporting goods store.
I’m working on plans. And they all involve me. Me, myself and I and have nothing to do with her cockamamie Valentine Dance.
I agreed to try the matchmaking service as a promise to my best friend Rowdy, for reasons I can’t remember now.
So, I’ll do it, but I have no plans to take this matchmaking thing seriously. I’ve given up on love. But I’ll tolerate one blind date if it gets everyone off my back about finding someone to date in Songbird Ridge. They’ll see that I’m too much of a mess even for the town matchmaker to help me.
“You don’t need me to do a personality assessment. It’s a waste of time. How many personalities could there possibly be in this town?” I ask her.
I know I’m difficult. But the fact is, I’m annoyed that she’s distracting me from keeping my eye on Ari.
Maddie clucks at me. “You bid on the whole matchmaking package at the auction, remember? Come on, Foster, you need to let me do my job.”
“It was for charity.”
Outside, Ari now stands at the front of the coffee line. I can’t see her face, but Jared, the barista, smiles at her like a kid with a schoolboy crush.
I never liked that Jared. Too chatty. Too friendly. And that generator that runs the coffee stand is too loud.
Diplomatically, Maddie says, “And it was mighty generous of you to bid such a high amount in support of the arts community, knowing how much you’re opposed to funding the guild.”
I look from Ari back to Maddie, deeply offended. “I’m not opposed to the guild.”
Maddie shrugs. “That’s not what I heard. But I’m not going to quibble with you since you did bid on my item. Now, I have your date of birth. March 13, 1996. What time of day were you born, and in what town?”
“Why? I’m a Sagittarius, what else do you need?”
Maddie rolls her eyes. “Play along at least? I need to get this done in time for the Valentine’s Day Singles Dance. I have a lot on my plate!”
I can’t believe I agreed to have my first blind date be at a Valentine’s Day event. I’d much rather meet at my favorite bar and restaurant, Magpie. It’ll be nice and quiet up there near the ski resort, now that most of the ski chalets are empty for the season. It’s a nice vibe for a date, and not as heavy-handed as something Valentine-themed.
When I’d complained about that, Maddie reminded me that her new business, Swan Matchmaking Services, is sponsoring the singles mixer, and having real clients in attendance would be good for business.
