The Matchmaker

Chapter 3

"I can't believe you want me to become buddies with the nation's golden boy, turned bad boy and his best friend! You do realise I could walk in there and blurt out something that could jeopardise everything we've accomplished so far?"

"Hey, it's for the sake of the business remember? Just make sure you have your shit together and don't lose your cool."

Easier said than done.

Groaning, I hang up on her and decide to bake a few more cakes before the reality of my situation hits me in the face. I've used an excessive amount of electricity today along with cream cheese and butter! Shrieking, I take out all my baked goods and quickly turn off the stove before power cleaning the dishes (all that water...dear God please forgive me for the extra zero at the end of this utility bill) and decorate what I've baked.

Admiring my now finished creations, I place all the goodies in my extremely empty fridge and devour a cupcake while sipping on some warm milk. I'm not about to sacrifice all my baked treasures to a neighbour who may harbour resentment for my behaviour earlier today, and I deserve a damn cupcake instead of air-dried noodles. Not to mention the smell of vanilla and chocolate wafting through and attacking my senses; I'd rather happily die in this moment then let Zander Nolan discover I'm the secret matchmaker for his social circle.

My glorious moment is short lived as a knock on my door gives me another minor heart attack.

Not again, who could it be this time? 

Not even bothering to look through the peep hole this time, I open the door a fraction and frown when I see a tall figure leaning against the opposite wall with arms crossed. 

My eyes dart nervously and I look both ways before addressing the knocker, "Um, hi?"

"You know you're awfully rude neighbour."

"Sorry, but you're a stranger and you know what they say...stranger danger," I said breathlessly, stunned that the nation's golden boy would come knocking on my door a second time.

Raising a heavy brow, Zander looks down at me questioningly, "And just how old are you?"

"Old enough to drink and smoke."

"Interesting answer."

"Hmm, listen I don't mean to be rude but what exactly can I help you with?"

"I was wondering if you had any eggs?"

"Eggs?" I asked, surprised that a baking ingredient and protein alternative made me feel disoriented.

"Eggs."

"Brown or white?"

"Er, does it matter?"

"Significantly so," I stated, not even sure if it actually did.

"Right, so do you have any?"

"Nope. Sorry, it was nice meeting you," grabbing the door handle, I begin to shut it close but once again, he yanks it back.

"Whoa, not so fast. Shouldn't you invite me inside and apologise?"

"And why the hell would I want to do that?"

Startled by my bluntness, his brows furrow and I almost cackle at how ridiculous this must look but all of a sudden, his eyes darken and I shrink back from the severity of their lustre. 

The door gets pushed back entirely and the mug in my hand feels as if it's about to slip and fall into a million shards. Keep your shit together Cat, and don't let your future client get upset. He'll be lining your pockets and determining the contents of your bank account.