The Angel Matchmaker

6 Months Earlier

*6 Months Earlier*

Cecily Crew P.O.V

"This has to be the oddest thing I've ever seen. How do you pronounce your name, dearie?" The plump, elderly woman behind the granite counter asked me. She had snow white hair framing her circular face, with round spectacles to match the face shape. She faintly reminded me of Mrs. Clause.

"It's pronounced Cecily. Se-sill-e." I stated, breaking the 6 letter name into 3 seperate syllables. I smiled in patience, but honestly, she was wearing it thin, and quickly.

"Last name?" She asked, finger skimming over the sleek keyboard situated in front of her. I groaned inwardly, wanting to be done already. Unfortunately, this was needed for my line of work, wether I liked it or not.

"Crew. Cecily Amarah Crew." I smiled again at the plump woman. Smiles. Smiles. More forced smiles. When in the world will they end?

"Beautiful name, for a beautiful girl." A voice behind me said. Turning around, I was faced with a dark gray cotton wall. After realizing I was an idiot and it was a shirt, I looked up, immediately facing a gorgeous face : Reece Diavolo. Grandson of Satan himself.

But a right ass, nonetheless.

"What do you want, Reece?" I asked him, fully out of patience. Well that took long, I thought sarcastically. Why was Reece Diavolo here, of all places? He belongs in Hell, rather than a DMV in Chicago, Illinois.

"Baby girl, I want what I always want. You." He said cockily, amusement lacing his tone. I rolled my eyes at his comment. Reece was a bastard, but then again, that's usually what happens when your dad is Satan's Heir.

"Yes. I'm sure the whole 4 times we've talked have been very meaningful to you, have they not?" I asked with fake innocence, turning back to the woman and grabbing my new liscence. Sure, it wasn't the most attractive picture in the world, but it would work until I was forced to renew it again. Reece sighed dramatically and rested one arm on the wall next to my head.

"Why do you hate me?" He asked with a puppy dog face. God, there isn't enough time in the world to answer that question. Because you're an ass. Because you're conceited. Because you're a womanizer. Because you're anti-love. Because you're you. Instead, I went for the safer choice.

"I don't hate you. I don't hate anyone. At the very least I tolerate them. However, Reece, I'm in love with you. Your pale skin and frumpy arms that couldn't even fill out a girls tshirt. I would love you, but it's against the rules. I would if I could, but I can't so I shant." Fronting a hurt expression, I mocked him, adding a pushed out bottom lip for dramtic affect. I scoffed and he grabbed my waist and pushed him away.

"You're a dick."

"And you're a priss." He countered, sneering at me. I balled my hands at my sides. If this were a cartoon, and I were the protagonist - or antagonist, on some occassions - I would have steam coming out of my ears. What is it about Reece Diavolo that gets me so worked up? Not physically, not mentally, not sexually, just a mixture of everything. Well, except for sexually. Because, you know, he's Reece.

"Asshole."

"Prude."

"Fucker."

"Bitch."

"Twat."

"Slag."

"Mistake."

Reece's chest heaved up and down in anger, but then again, so was mine. I realized that it was moving when I realized that Reece was staring directly at my boobs. I sighed, breaking eye contact first, so I could rub my temple. I could feel a serious headace coming in, and this would not be pretty. I was still angry, and so was Reece, but I decided that I'd best leave it alone.

I grabbed my purse and walked away, stuffing my liscence into my pocket and getting into my car. One of the perks of my job is a company car, which I greatfully take with both palms carefully. It's a sleek silver BMW with black leather interior and seat warmers. I mean, who wouldn't want seat warmers?

I was home when I realized I had forgotten something. It was subtle at first, but then, it gradually became more prominent that it was missing. Mainly from the message on my home answering machine.

"Hey, Avery, baby. So, it's Reece. You left your phone at the DMV, you silly goose. Anyways, if you want to get your phone back, I suggest you call it as soon as possible. Woah, that sounds cool. Erm - anyways - yeah. So just call me. Well, not me, your phone, but......you get the point. Okay, bye then." Reece said with embarassment as he was flustered. Hah! I made you embarassed, Reece Diavolo! But then the message really set in, and I closed my eyes, thinking only one thing.

Reece Diavolo has my phone.

AUTHORS NOTE :

Yes, it's short. Nice deductive reasoning, Sherlock. OOOOOOH! Has anyone in America (Or possibly other countries I don't know!) the new tv show Elementary? It's flipping amazing. Anyways, I refuse to update my other stories until this has 25 reads. So..yeah. I'm gonna go to bed.

G'Night Loves(:

-Lauren, who is falling asleep writing this