The Billionaire and the Matchmaker

Michael could see her anger faltering. Smithy had that effect on people. No one could stay mad long around his lovable clown act. It was an even more potent superpower now that he was in a chair. Michael could only hope it would work to his benefit. He wanted to explain everything, but not until she’d calmed down.

“Well, what do you say?” Smithy asked, opening his arms wide with a smile. “Michael’s not going to own up to this, of course, but it was all my idea. You can thank me later.”

Emily’s face turned crimson. She stammered a response and then looked up at Michael, her eyes narrowing. “Michael is responsible for his own actions. He is the only one to blame for how this ended.” With one last, scornful look in his direction, she lifted her chin. “Goodbye, Michael.”

Emily abruptly turned on the heel of her tennis shoe and marched toward the door, where Lydia stood watching them. The two of them hurried out of the building, leaving Michael feeling like he’d just had his intestines forcibly removed.

Smithy glanced questioningly up at him, the grin melting from his face. “Was it something I said?”

Michael shook his head and worked his jaw. Every nerve in his body screamed for him to run after her. To make her listen to the truth. But for the first time in his adult life, he felt powerless. She had every right to hate him. He had used her badly. His plan to get in and get out had blown up in his face.

Except, he wasn’t the only one who got caught in

the crossfire.

Chapter Eleven

Emily stared miserably at the screen of her phone. It was three a.m. and she’d finally had the nerve to block Michael’s number, but not before about a dozen texts and three voicemails came through, all of which she’d ignored. She had the tiniest bit of satisfaction in the fact that he was trying and failing to get her back. Michael Knight didn’t seem like the kind of guy used to failure. Maybe, this would teach him a valuable lesson.

She dug her spoon viciously into a pint of Ben & Jerry’s chocolate chip cookie dough and redirected her attention to her mom’s ancient box TV. Their old VHS copy of You’ve Got Mail played on the screen. This was her last week in the house. On Saturday, the movers were coming and next week, the home of her childhood would belong to someone else.

And Emily would be homeless.

She laid down on the couch and allowed the tears to roll down her face as Meg Ryan met Tom Hanks in the epic garden scene. It was so perfect. Two people, meant to be, finding their happy ending. Why didn’t those things happen in real life?

Why did reality have to be such a disappointment?

As the ending credits began to roll, her phone dinged with a message. Emily grunted and pushed herself up on the couch to stare blurry-eyed at the bright screen. It was from Lydia.

Need mint choc chip ice cream stat. Can you come over?

She shot up to her feet in an instant, adrenaline coursing through her veins. There was only one reason for a text like that and Emily knew she needed to hurry.

?

Lydia opened the door to her apartment, black mascara streaking down her puffy red face. She waved Emily in and shut the door behind her with a loud, gasping sob. Emily dropped the bag of ice cream and pulled her friend into a hug, holding her until the sobbing came to a hiccupping end.

“What happened?” she asked, leading Lydia to the brown leather sofa in front of the fireplace.

Lydia dropped with a plop into the cushions and wiped her swollen nose with a tissue. “Edward and I broke up. We were discussing the wedding and he wouldn’t commit to a date. We got into this huge fight. I knew that he was just avoiding the subject, but he wouldn’t admit it. I mean, if a man won’t commit to a date, it means he doesn’t really want to get married. Doesn’t it?”

She broke down into tears again and Emily sat beside her, patting her on the back.

“I don’t know, Lyd,” she said, grimacing. “Are you sure he was avoiding it?”

“He told me he didn’t want to talk about it right now,” Lydia said, her chin trembling. “How clear can you get?”

“That’s pretty clear...” Emily replied with a frown.

“I knew this was going to happen. I just knew it.” Lydia threw the wad of tissue on the floor and huffed. “Two months isn’t enough time to know if someone’s your soulmate. I let myself get swept away by the romance. I’m so stupid.”

“You’re not stupid.”

Lydia might have been a serial dater, but she was anything but stupid. The fact that Edward had worked his way so far into her heart was really something. He’d broken through her walls. And by all accounts, he was a good guy.

But love was never simple.

Emily couldn’t help but let her thoughts drift to her own problems with men. With Michael, especially. It stung to think of his handsome face.