The Matchmaker Meets Her Match Read Online Free PDF Page B

Rilka’s already barely functioning brain. “That may be true but I’m guessing you’re not the right man.”
    “Apparently not. Next thing I know, 911 is being called and statements are being taken.”
    Wonderful. That’d show up in the morning paper. She hoped no one had been indiscreet enough to mention that their date had been set up by Rilka Árpád, Matchmaker. Of course Hilda would, as evidence of her own innocent involvement. “I trusted my matchmaker when she set us up,” she would be saying to the D.A. “Rilka is supposed to screen her clients,” Hilda would tell the reporters, crossing her skinny arms over her meager chest.
    There’s no such thing as bad publicity
, Rilka reminded herself. One of her competitors called herself “Matchmaker to the Stars.” Rilka could be “Matchmaker to Nonviolent Offenders.”
    Marcus was breathing heavily again, his only sign of deep distress. At least
he
didn’t yell at her. “Are you downtown?” she finally asked.
    “Yes.”
    “Okay. I’ll be there in a few minutes. I make no promises. I usually side with the women in cases like this because men can be such pigs.”
    A pause. “You know, that seems like an inappropriate sentiment for a matchmaker.”
    “I didn’t choose this field of endeavor,” Rilka said. “It chose me.”
    “I always say the exact same thing,” Marcus said genially.
    • • •
    By noon on Monday, Rilka had not heard from Hilda’s lawyer, and she seemed to have gotten Hilda to calm down, so she relaxed a little — as much as she was able, considering how tightly wound she was by nature. Marcus had been sprung and no bail money had been required, which was a good thing. Marcus had kissed her on the cheek and hissed, “Set me up with another insane woman and I
will
steal all your silver,” but he would calm down, too. He always did.
    The phone rang and she glanced at the caller I.D. Jeremy Ford. Did she want to take a call from Mr. I-Just-Want-to-Get-Laid?
    She supposed she had to. She sighed and picked up. “Yo.”
    “Is that Rilka?”
    “Yes.”
    “You know, my brother always makes me answer the phone with the name of the business and a pleasant little, ‘How can I help you?’”
    “Uh huh,” Rilka said. “Have you ever met anyone interested in unsolicited advice?”
    “That wasn’t advice, it was merely a observation.”
    “Uh huh. What do you want?” Damn, she was forgetting the
polite
part of her matchmaking mantra: Be direct but polite.
    “Have you got anyone lined up yet?” Jeremy asked, apparently undaunted.
    “I told you — ”
    “Yeah, but I’m not paying you to tell me to hang out at bars.”
    Rilka considered the possibility that she hated Jeremy. Or possibly it was just the job she hated. “You know, this isn’t Amazon.com.”
    “I have all the reading material I need,” he said. “What I’m looking for is
companionship
.”
    There was something in the way he said it that made Rilka pause. He cleared his throat. “Because the solo action is getting a little old.”
    That made her feel better. “Has it ever occurred to you that I don’t want to know what you do in the privacy of your bedroom?” Rilka asked.
    “You’re kind of a prude for a matchmaker,” Jeremy said. “Again, not advice, just an observation.”
    “I’m sure it’s a great disappointment to you,” she said in the freezing tones that had abashed better men, but he just laughed and said, “Maybe it’ll encourage you to hook me up faster if you have to listen to me describe my sexual deprivation in great detail.”
    “Describing masturbation over to the phone to someone not your wife is probably illegal in this state.”
    “And if it isn’t, it should be?” he said. “Get to work, Rilka. Bye.”
    • • •
    Jeremy was grinning like a damned fool when he hung up the phone. He’d waited until his lunch break to make the call so his brother wouldn’t overhear. He’d probably get the wrong idea and think Jeremy