Curves for the Single Dad

Not one bit. I opened the envelope slowly, carefully, almost certain whatever it was would bite me, possibly poison me. She didn’t, I thought as I pulled the certificate from the envelope. She wouldn’t. But as my eyes bounced over the words, I knew that she, in fact, would. And had.

“Gretchen, why?”

She shrugged, her smile unapologetic. “Because, it’s time. Dickhead left months ago, and you haven’t had even one date since. Not even a blind date. This will kickstart you into your thirties. Properly.”

“How will a Time for Love gift certificate do all that, Gretch? Huh?” I was annoyed. Frustrated with her beyond belief, but too polite to really show it.

“Even if your friends don’t find you the one, they will get you out there, in the world, dating again. You are far too beautiful and too vibrant to wilt away all because some jerk didn’t see how great you are. He doesn’t deserve that kind of power over you or your life.”

“I’m not giving him any power.” Sure, I haven’t dated since we broke up, but I’ve been busy with work.

“Really? Then when do you take the detective’s exam?”

“I just missed the last deadline,” I stammered. “I’m working on it and my life. Just because you lucked out in the husband department doesn’t mean that’s what we’re all meant to have.”

“Bull,” she spat angrily. “You have a plan and you’ve done nothing since dickhead left, almost two years ago. You haven’t dated, which makes it hard as hell to fall in love, which I could forgive if you were moving up the police ladder. Which you aren’t. It’s like he broke you, Tara.”

Ugh, I hated the idea of that. That he’d not only broken my heart, but maybe he’d broken me. I couldn’t let that happen. I wouldn’t. “Fine. Thank you, and I’ll think long and hard about using it.”

“That’s all I ask,” she said smugly.

“Don’t worry,” Eva and Sophie said at the same time. “She’ll use it,” Eva finished, her words sounded more like a threat than a promise.

And I knew, no good could come of this.

Chris

“The publisher was happy to fork over that big advance, once I convinced them you had a really good reason for killing off Detective Glockman.” I could hear the smile in my agent, Tom’s voice. But also a question, because everyone thought I’d lost my mind for killing off the man who’d given me wealth and fame, not to mention the ability to take care of my little girl without much help.

“I did. I was sick of writing Glockman, the stories were getting harder and harder to make interesting. Fifteen books, and it was starting to feel like pulling teeth.” It had taken almost a year to get the final book finished, and that included three months of arguing with Tom, my editor, and even the head of the publishing house’s mystery division. “The book is doing well.”

“Better than well. Fifteenth week on the bestseller list is incredible Chris, really. Be proud of that. Celebrate it big time. Just please, for the love of all that is sweet and right in this world, tell me you have something good to follow the death of Glockman?”

“As a matter of fact, I do.” I knew Tom as itching to get some kind of information on what I was planning next, but torturing him was one of my favorite past times, since he often played the role of editor, agent, father, assistant and nag-in-chief.

After a long pause where I sat sketching a photo of my eight year old daughter Lila, bent over her new favorite coloring book.

“Well? Dammit man, are you gonna make me pull it out of you word by word?”

Maybe? “That depends, do you have the patience for that?”

“Fuck no,” he growled and I could hear his hand, or maybe his head, pounding on the big oak desk in his New York apartment. “Just give me the basics. And tell me it’s not romance.”

A loud laugh escaped, startling Lila who gifted me with a scowl. “It’s not romance, not really. I guess.” The low growl that came down the line put another smile on my face. “It’s a thriller and a mystery, I suppose. A man uses a matchmaker to hunt for women. He gets off on using different disguises to be whatever he needs to be to find the right woman he thinks is guilty of some misstep, lures them in and kills them.”

It was really just a ghost of an idea that I’d been playing with ever since my buddy Oliver went and fell in love—and then got engaged to—a matchmaker. I need to do a lot of research, both online and in the real world.

“Seriously?”

I nodded even though he couldn’t see me, wondering what his tone meant. “Yep. What do you think?”