The Matchbaker (A Romantic Comedy) Read online

  I enter through one of the many glass doors lining the front of the building. A giant, semi-circular desk takes up the entire foyer, and two perky twenty-somethings greet me with a chipper, “Hi!”

  The blond with the slightly darker tan moves closer to me. “Can I help you with anything?”

  Clearly, I seem lost. “Um, yes, please. I was hoping to take a tour of the facility.”

  “Wonderful! Have you ever been a member of a Fit & Fab before?” I shake my head. She procures an index card and a small pencil from the desk and hands them to me. “Then I just need your name, phone and email address. One of our club specialists will be right with you.”

  “Thanks.” I fill out the card while I wait. As I’m writing the .com of my email address, a guy wearing a Fit & Fab t-shirt emerges from one of the offices along the wall to the right.

  I don’t know what to make of him. I mean, he’s cute, kind of. Totally not my type. He’s half lumberjack, half beefcake. I prefer clean-shaven and lean muscles. Like Colin.

  “Hey Chelsea!” he addresses the girl behind the counter.

  “Tyler, we have a new prospect. She would like a tour of the club.”

  Tyler breaks out in a wide smile that nearly blinds me and I want to tell him he can lay off the whitening strips. “Candace! Welcome to Fit & Fab! Are you familiar with our clubs?”

  “Um, no,” I say, trying to match his vitamin-induced enthusiasm. “F & F virgin.” I immediately regret my word choice, but it’s too late to do anything about it. He definitely heard me and is grinning ear to ear.

  “Well, I’m happy to pop your F & F cherry, then.”

  Oh, my God. Is he flirting with me? No, he can’t be. That’s ridiculous. We’ve known each other for a total of two and a half seconds. I laugh at his joke as he ushers me into the juice bar. It’s so impressive—huge and modern, and the menu has all kinds of health words on it like spirulina and probiotics. This is just what I need to get myself back on track!

  “Nice,” I say casually when he asks what I think. I don’t want to gush too much just in case I’m not as impressed with the rest of the gym.

  Not at all fazed by my lackluster response, he says, “Great! Let’s move on to the locker rooms.”

  He instructs me to take my time in the locker room and meet him outside the doors on the opposite end, which apparently lead to the pool and Jacuzzi area. It’s great. It’s all just great. The locker rooms are clean and modern, with a steam room and sauna. The showers are stocked with brand name shampoos and soaps. I can just see myself coming here after work, running off the cupcakes I ate during the day, then soaking in the Jacuzzi, relaxing in the sauna, showering and eating at the café, so all I have to do when I get home is fall into bed. With this place at my disposal, it won’t even bother me that I’m living in Mom and Dad’s basement.

  “How’d you like the locker rooms?” Tyler asks as I emerge into the pool area. It’s warm and damp, and there are people in swim caps doing laps up and down the massive pool. Skylights overhead give a great view of the moon and stars, and I imagine myself doing the backstroke as I stare up at them after a long day of work.

  “Really nice,” I say.

  “Well, this is the pool,” he continues. “As if you couldn’t tell.”

  “I was just about to nickname you Captain Obvious,” I tease.

  He laughs. “Just one of my many charms: pointing out the obvious.”

  Okay, he’s definitely into me. It makes me feel all warm and nervous inside.

  “All right, if we head out this way, I’ll show you our aerobics rooms, spin and yoga studios…” He’s rambling on about all the features of the club, but I’m not even listening anymore. I’m plotting a way to hint that I want him to ask me out. I could just ask him out myself, but—

  No. No buts. I’m a modern woman. I can ask him out. If I want to start dating, I have to put myself out there. And not just by dropping hints. It’s time for me to grab the bull by the horns.

  By the time we wrap up the tour, I’m ready. I’ve rehearsed my casual invitation a thousand times in my head. But I want to wait until the very end, after I’ve signed up and paid.

  We come to the end of the tour and Tyler turns to me with that wide smile. His teeth aren’t nearly so blinding once you get used to them. “So, what do you think?”

  “Let’s do it!” I say.

  “Yeah? All right. Follow me, and we’ll just get your info into the system, take your picture for your club card and you’ll be good to go.”

  “Wonderful.” I give him all the info he needs to set me up for an account, hand over the paltry membership fee (which is about a quarter of what I would have paid in Manhattan for a gym like this,) and then smile for my picture. Considering I’m in a mu-mu and fat pants, and my hair and makeup are a disaster, the picture turns out all right.

  “So, listen,” I say, trying my best to sound casual, “I’m kind of new in town, and I don’t know a lot of people, but I was wondering…would you like to have drinks sometime?”

  Tyler smiles again. “How about tonight?”

  “Tonight?” I’m so not dressed for drinks, let alone a first date. “Um, well…”

  “I just have to wrap up a couple things here. It’ll take me ten minutes, tops.”

  “Oh, uh—” Come on, Candy, use your words. “Where should we go?”

  “I know this great spot,” he says, and it must be really great, because he seems really jacked up about it. “You’ll love it.”

  “Great!”

  I run to the ladies’ locker room to fix my hair and face while Tyler takes care of his end-of-day stuff. I don’t look half bad, but I’m desperate for a little eyeliner, just to give my eyes a bit more definition. But I have to make do with what I have in my bag, so I apply another coat of mascara, rosy up my cheeks and slather on more lip-gloss. My messy coif has grown on me, so I fluff it up to make it even messier, until it’s verging on a Helena Bonham Carter thing.

  Once I’m satisfied with my look, I wait for Tyler in the lobby on one of the white leather couches. Chelsea is still there behind the desk and she calls out to me.

  “So what did you think of the place? It’s really fab, huh?”

  “Oh, yes!” I shout back over the blaring music. “Fit and Fab!”

  Chelsea laughs at my joke. “Is there anything else you need?” she asks, and it occurs to me she must be wondering why I’m lingering in the lobby.

  “Oh, no!” I say. “I’m just waiting on Tyler. We’re going to go have drinks, actually.”

  Chelsea breaks out into a huge, sassy grin. “O-M-G, you are going to have so much fun! I wish I could go with you guys. Tyler is the funnest!”

  Funnest? And did she just say she wanted to go with us? On our date?

  I don’t know what else to say to her at this point, so I just smile and shrug, then pull out my phone and look at it as if I’ve just received a really important text. The club phone rings then anyway, and Chelsea has to pick it up. Thankfully, by the time she hangs up, Tyler is on his way out of his office.

  “All set?” he asks.

  “All set.”

  “’Night, Chelsea!” He waves a massive hand at Blondie and then ushers me out the door. “Did you want to leave your car here or just follow me?”

  I contemplate the benefits of both options, but in the end decide it’s best for me to have my own transportation. That will keep me from over-imbibing again tonight. “I’ll follow you,” I say, and then we part ways to go to our own cars.

  I tail him to a little bar about fifteen minutes away. It looks like a country-western bar, to be honest, but Tyler didn’t strike me as the country-western type. A giant neon sign reads: EASY BEEF ROADHOUSE, and it has a giant neon lasso around it. Huh. Maybe Tyler likes steak.

  We meet on the sidewalk and walk into the bar together.

  “Told you it was great, didn’t I?” Tyler yells over the Conway Twitty song. Or is it Hank Williams? I’m not a connoisseur of c
ountry music.

  I don’t want to be rude, but this hardly seems like a good place for a first date. I mean, the twangy music is playing so loudly I can hardly hear myself think, and there’s one of those bull-riding thingies in the middle of the room, just past the dance floor, where a few people are line dancing. I’m so out of my element.

  On the upside, despite the fact I’m in my sister’s mu-mu and fat pants, I’m pretty much the best-dressed woman in the place.

  “Come on!” Tyler leads me through the crowd of people to the bar and sits down. I try not to get offended that he didn’t pull out a barstool for me, or even wait for me to sit down before he did, and remind myself this is casual. We’re still just getting to know each other. Maybe Tyler doesn’t want to lead me on before he knows more about me. I get that, really I do. But at the same time, some manners wouldn’t hurt.

  The bartender approaches within seconds. “Hey, stranger!” he says to Tyler.

  “Hey yourself!” Tyler says back to him.

  “Who’s this little hottie?”

  I have to look around to see who he’s talking about.

  “This is Candace. She just joined Fit & Fab tonight, so we’re celebrating.”

  I’m a little embarrassed I didn’t realize they were talking about me, but flattered just the same.

  “Oh, my gawd, you are going to love it!” He winks at Tyler, then says, “What are you drinking, sweetie?”

  “Just a Bud Light,” I say, totally taken in by our hunky bartender. Maybe I should dress like this more often. I’ve never had so much male attention in my life.

  “What about you, hot stuff?”

  “The same.”

  Wait a second. Did he just call Tyler hot stuff? I narrow my eyes and observe the hunky bartender a little more closely as he procures our drinks. Damn. There’s definite flair there. How did I miss it? I give my head a little jolt as if it might fix my Gaydar like one might fix a busted TV. Well, it’s no wonder Tyler didn’t get all prickly and jealous when he called me a hottie.

  “By the way,” he says to Tyler as he places our drinks in front of us, “you’ll never guess who’s here.”

  Tyler’s brow furrows as if he knows, but hopes it isn’t true. “Who?”

  The bartender pauses for effect and then says, “Kelly.”

  Tyler immediately picks up his drink and takes a long swig of it.

  “Who’s Kelly?” I venture, and Tyler gives the bartender a nod.

  “Tyler’s ex. A real piece of work.”

  “Oh, my God.” I turn to Tyler. “We don’t have to stay if you don’t want to. We can totally go somewhere else, I won’t mind.”

  “No, no. It was bound to happen sometime. It’s not that big of a town, after all.” He takes another drink of his beer. “But it’s a big enough bar, we should be able to avoid each other.”

  “Okay.” I settle back against my barstool and peruse the crowd. I’m desperate to know which one Kelly is. Honestly, no one here looks like they would be a match to Tyler, which is probably why he and Kelly broke up in the first place. They weren’t meant to be, clearly…but I rather think Tyler and I make a nice-looking couple.

  “Hey, you want to dance?” Tyler asks me, as if it’s just occurring to him that dancing is something I might enjoy.

  “Yeah, sure, but I’m not really boned up on my line dancing.”

  “Don’t worry about it,” he says as he hops off the barstool and extends his hand to me. “Just follow me. You’ll pick it up in no time.”

  Okay, I really thought line dancing was just the Electric Slide set to country music, and even then I was nervous about taking part. But it’s so much worse. Tyler is tearing up the floor in a series of spins and turns and fancy footwork. It’s all I can do to face the proper direction at any given moment. When did line dancing become so complicated? I’ve done it a thousand times at weddings, but I’ve never seen anything like this.

  “You’re doing great!” Tyler calls to me over the music.

  I smile tightly back at him. “I’m trying!”

  After three excruciating dances, I throw up my proverbial white flag. “I think I need some water.”

  “Sure.” Tyler escorts me back to the bar and we ask Sean, the bartender, for two waters.

  “Tyyyyyyyy,” Sean says with a sly smile and a sing-song voice, “you’ve been working on your moves, haven’t you, sugar?”

  “Yeah, well…I’m trying to impress someone.”

  Oh, my God. Is he talking about me? We just met tonight, for goodness sake! But I think it’s sweet he was exerting himself to impress me. Not that he needs to. Tyler is such a great guy. Just being around him makes me feel at ease and cheerier somehow. I can really see this going somewhere.

  “And who would that be?” Sean looks at me as he says this and gives me a wink.

  “That would be someone by the name of none-of-your-business,” Tyler shoots back.

  “Uh-oh. Here comes trouble.”

  Tyler’s head snaps up to look at Sean. There’s terror there. It can only mean one thing: Kelly is on her way over.

  “Kelly?” Tyler asks, his tone grave.

  Sean nods and runs his cloth around the rim of the glass he’s holding.

  I feel like I’m about to witness a genuine Wild West showdown. I surreptitiously turn in my seat to look behind us. I want to get a good look at the bitch who broke Tyler’s heart before he shoots her down and sends her on her way. But there’s no one there. At least, there’s no woman there. Just some guy with a flannel shirt and dreamy blue eyes. Huh. Maybe Kelly chickened out when she saw me.

  A satisfied smile passes over my lips. Good. At least she already knows I’m not willing to share.

  “Well, well, well,” comes a male voice from behind. “I never expected to see you here tonight.”

  Tyler doesn’t move. He doesn’t even turn around. He simply says, “I don’t want any trouble, okay?”

  “Really? Seems to me you’ve come looking for it. You know this is my usual watering hole.”

  “You’re not the only one who likes to come here for a drink…or to see old friends.” Tyler gives the barest of smiles to Sean, and suddenly, I feel like I’m missing something. Like the pieces of the puzzle aren’t quite fitting together.

  I’m feeling a bit uncomfortable all of a sudden, so I look around the bar and pretend I’m not listening in on their confrontation. I’m starting to notice things I hadn’t noticed before. Like the giant rainbow above the barn door. At first, I thought it was an homage to The Wizard of Oz, but now…

  Oh, my God. It’s not an homage to The Wizard of Oz. It’s an homage to Judy Garland. And a symbol of gay pride.

  I dart my gaze frantically to the couple across from us. They’re not just two men having a drink together—they’re lovers having a drink together. How the hell did I miss that?

  Okay, calm down. It’s not a big deal. Tyler has no idea I thought he was coming on to me, or that I thought we were out on a first date. And even if he did, it’s not like there were any clues to his sexual orientation I could have picked up on.

  Except for the fact he brought me to a place called Easy Beef Roadhouse, whose clientele is ninety percent male.

  I gulp down my water, feeling like the biggest idiot. I’ve got to find a way out of here.

  “So, who’s this pretty little thing? Got yourself a new hag now that Chelsea’s got a boyfriend.”

  Chelsea? Hag?

  Tyler sighs. “Kelly, I have nothing to say to you. Why don’t you just skedaddle?”

  Wow. They really take this country western thing to an extreme in here.

  “Yeah, all right,” Kelly, the man, says. “I’ll see you around.”

  “Not if I can help it.” Tyler is still facing forward. He never once turned around to look at Kelly, and I understand why. Kelly is the type of guy who could charm his way into your pants with one sultry look. “I’m really sorry you had to witness that.” Tyler is looking at me now, a soft
expression on his face.

  Damn, he would have made a great boyfriend.

  “No, it’s fine,” I say. “It’s never fun to have to face an ex.”

  “Especially when it’s Kelly.” Sean puts two shot glasses in front of us and pulls out a bottle of Jameson.

  The idea of shooting whiskey right now makes me gag, but I have no choice. I need something to numb these feelings of humiliation, and beer is never going to do that.

  “Bottom’s up!” I yell, and slam back the Jameson. I have a momentary flashback to sitting in Clyde’s office, sputtering on the single malt he’d offered while propositioning me. Despite this huge fail of a day, I have to admit, this is way better than working for Clyde.

  Twelve

  Okay, I can do this. I don’t need Mom anymore. I just need to be confident in my own abilities. I had a full two weeks with her by my side—I know what I’m doing now. Right?

  “You better get started, Candy.”

  I look up at my sister who has already begun the sugar molds for the day, and nod. I should get started; I’m just at a loss as to where I should begin.

  “Here.” Holly is standing before me, the pink order slips in her hand. “Start with these, and double the amount so you can put the extras in the display.” She pauses and gives me a once over. “You okay?”

  I nod again. Why am I so nervous?

  All right, deep breaths. I glance at the first pink slip. An order of Spice-it-Up cupcakes for Mrs. Shoemaker. Mrs. Shoemaker? I know that name. I know it really well, as a matter of fact. She was my third grade teacher. Geez, she must be a hundred years old by now.

  I shrug and pull myself together. I want to impress my teacher—I have to do a good job.

  My hands are shaking as I start to measure the ingredients for the cupcakes. I make sure to follow the recipe to a “T”, carefully adding and then checking off the ingredients as I do. Flour? Check! Sugar? Check! Eggs, allspice, baking soda, butter, salt, milk, spices? Check, check, check! I watch them go round and round in the mixer until the batter looks perfect. Then I grab my spoon and give it a few spins around the bowl, praying for perfection.