Mismatched

5. Jake

It was Wednesday afternoon when Jake strode into his restaurant, bike helmet in one hand and shopping bags in the other. He was in a reasonably good mood until Johnny announced, "Jake, you just missed a call."

"Who from?"

The waiter sifted through the pile of post-it notes on the small reception desk, looking more doubtful by the second. "What was her name, again?"

Jake tried not to show his impatience. "Did you know her? Was it a customer, supplier, or friend?"

Johnny shrugged and gave up looking through the post-its. "Sorry, I can't find it."

"Was her name Ebony, by any chance?"

"Yes. Yes, it was!"

Ebony actually called.

And now her number was gone.

Jake had lost his phone four days ago. He'd feared that Ebony had called his old mobile, and after hearing it was disconnected she'd never bothered calling back.

"Move aside," Jake said. He nudged Johnny aside and began sorting through every scrap of paper, every page in the notebook, and every business screen on the iPad. Fifteen minutes passed and he gave up searching. Work called. In ten minutes, he had a meeting with a coach company. If he could secure this contract Sinclair's would be back on track during the winter months. Lunch hours would be brimming with bus-loads of tourists. It might very well be the solution he'd been searching for—Mrs Harrostone had rarely steered him down the wrong path. Although, that was debatable when it came to Ebony. The fortune teller had foreseen more meetings for Jake and the mysterious girl. When Ebony had accepted his card, it had been a long shot. Now that he'd lost her number, seeing Ebony was akin to seeing the Tooth Fairy.

Striding into the office, he locked the door and dumped his things onto his desk. He dialled Mrs Harrostone and explained the situation. The fortune teller's lacklustre response did not give him hope, "I'm sorry, Jake. She never made another appointment, so I never got her number."

"Did she mention where she works, at least?"

"She might have." Silence. "But I don't think I should give out that information."

He scoffed, knowing he sounded ungrateful, but he hadn't felt this desperate in years. Two years, precisely, when he'd begged Mel to stay. Mel had walked out the door, her possessions already loaded into their car. He hadn't seen her since the day they had signed the papers a year and a half ago—the second worst day of his adult life. Looking back on it now, he'd been a fool to beg. "I guess you're right."

"Remember, Jake," she said. "The week is not over, yet. I said to give it until Friday. Ebony might call back. You did make quite an impression on her when you fixed her bracelet. People don't tend to forget such acts of kindness."

"I have a lot less faith than you do. People move on with their lives. Random acts of kindness become memories they recall from time to time. Nothing more."

"Maybe so. But if you don't find Ebony and you feel the time has come to meet somebody new, perhaps you should try the matchmaking agency down the road."

Jake tried not to grumble. "You mentioned that Friday. I don't think that's for me."

"Ebony was the exception?"

"I suppose she was," Jake said, surprising himself.

"Well, it's up to you, Jake. Whichever path you choose, I'm sure it will be the right one—whether you bump into Ebony somewhere, or go to the matchmakers at Kismet."