Unlovely Things (Love By Design 2)

“Oh, you’re done. I need more cake. I’m going to, uh, check on the cake.” I wondered if she would bring out the chocolate next. Taylor’s eyes darted back and forth between Louisa, the kitchen’s revolving door and then me.

“Her hair looks nice,” Taylor said to Louisa as she arranged her napkin and fork with an OCD precision.

“Oh yeah, easy fix. I’m glad you sent her over.” I sensed my hairdresser had more to say, but she shut down as the kitchen door opened again and Carmen returned with another full plate of sin and samples for us to try.

“Okay, so this one is the mocha fudge, and here we have the cookie dough.” Carmen’s hands shook bringing the platter to the table we occupied. Her voice babbled as she pointed out more flavor options for the wedding cake.

I was eager to dive in to taste all of them when I got a nudge under the table in the form of Taylor’s foot. I looked over to her and her eyebrow shot up, daring me to say something. Obviously we were going to reconvene for some kind of girl council. Besties just knew this shit.

“Hey Kristen, can you help me with the coffee maker?” Taylor wiped her hands on a napkin, standing up, her eyes darting to the back suspiciously. Okay, I hankered a guess we would be using the kitchen to sort this out leaving the other two out front.

“Coffee maker?” I slipped a wink under the radar.

She cleared her throat. “Yeah, now.”

“Okay, Okay.”

Taylor practically dragged me into the back room, looking over her shoulder at Carmen and Louisa.

“What the heck was that about?” I asked her.

Taylor flipped her hands up in the air as if it was totally obvious whispering. “I’m trying to set Carmen up with Louisa, but she’s being stubborn.”

“Oh.” The more I mulled it over, the more I realized it made sense why Carmen had gotten all weird the second Louisa strolled in.

“Is this your covert plan? Matchmaking now?”

“Shhh! I don’t want them to hear.”

I crossed my arms over my chest, not liking this one bit. “Because it’s not already obvious? I don’t think I want to be a part of any more happy couples. Who is going to be left for me to hang out with?”

“This is not always about you.” She said in a frustrated tone.

“Hey, I’m the only single one left; we can totally make this about me.” I argued.

Taylor let out a deep breath that made her loose blond hair float as she explained further. “Carmen got burned, she just moved here and I thought…” Her voice trailed off and I couldn’t stop my glower.

“What, that a rebound would help? That girl—” I pointed behind me in Louisa’s general direction, whispering. “—can massage your head during a shampoo with those deceptive little hands better than a dude. This one bakes cakes in shop that looks like pink threw up in it.” I pointed around the space making sure she saw every girly nuance in sight. Taylor might have made out with Carmen once or twice—because I didn’t know all the details and honestly didn’t want to know—but I wasn’t getting the girl-on-girl vibe from Carmen or the fact that these two had much in common.

“Yeah, no kidding, and since when did pink decide sexual orientation or a really good head massage?” Taylor had a point but I still wasn’t seeing it.

“Okay, I’m an idiot, but I still don’t get the feeling that they would be into each other, what do they have in common. Movies? Music?”

“I don’t think a little push could hurt.” She said crossing her arms defensively.

“No of course not. Have you been watching that Monroe Matchmakers show again?” I saw the stubborn glint in Taylor’s eyes. She was so going to match them up whether they wanted it or not.

“Carmen’s ex cheated on her, but I didn’t think she was into him that much anyway.”

“Didn’t they date for two years or something?”

“Yes, but he wasn’t good for her and I don’t think guys are really her type.” Taylor shrugged, explaining, “She just has this ultra-strict right-wing family and doesn’t fit in anywhere.”

“Ooookay.”

She nearly stomped her foot, getting my attention when she grabbed my arm, frowning. “What part of this bothers you? The matchmaking or the lesbian part?”

“Seriously, Taylor? You have to ask? Of course it’s the matchmaking part. I couldn’t care less about two chicks tying one on.” I really didn’t care. It wasn’t my business, but I still didn’t think matchmaking was a good idea. I’d watched too many reality shows where it all backfired. Besides, Taylor was an interior designer, not a lifelong matchmaker like Carla Monroe and her kids.