The Matchmaker

Chapter 14

This goes beyond the normal sense of what's acceptable as 'ridiculous.' Still slightly dazed from Zander's effect on me, I've snapped out of it enough to watch on in horror as he knocks on a door, grinning from ear to ear.

The door in question, opens ajar and a petite blonde in bright 80's workout clothes stares back at us, sweat gleaming against her neck; I must hand it to her, to be able to exercise and remain active in the dead of winter really is something to applaud. Most of us just hibernate throughout the season – and by most, I mean, me.

Ignoring her annoyed expression, Zander gives her a beaming smile she can't refuse, "Hello there, we're from the Daily Chronicle and would like to know if you're interested in being interviewed for our upcoming magazine feature?" 

Closing my eyes momentarily, I take a quick peek at the Blonde and relief fills my insides as she seriously considers the offer – she's actually buying into it. "Sure why not, what's the article about?"

"We'd like to know how a selective few people live in this complex, how your apartment looks like, and what your everyday lifestyle is," I pipe in, knowing she'd need more than a magazine's name to get us past the door.

Considering this for a fraction of a second, she nods before clearing a path for us, "Sounds interesting, come on in then." And just like that, we file into her apartment without being questioned any further. This is either the "Zander effect" or this woman has no sense of suspicion, to be able to let people waltz into your apartment simply because they say they're from a random magazine? Shaking my head, I just pray the rest of this little plan doesn't come crashing down on us.

"I'm currently renovating the place, so watch the paint cans in the kitchen."

"Do you work at home?" Zander asks faintly, surveying the room with a quick scan.

"No, I'm a stay home mom. My kids should be back from their evening cram school in three hours."

"Nice one Sherlock, she doesn't even work!" Agreeing with Patrick as he harshly whispers into Zander's ear, I quickly scan her apartment to find yogurt containers and granola bar wrappers littering the coffee table.

"Are you planning to run a marathon?" I ask suddenly, my question startles her because she notices me for the first time with real interest.

"Yes, how'd you know?"

"The DVDs and workouts specifically are designed for long distance running, and by snacking on yogurt and granola bars you've managed to maintain a higher stamina level. It isn't the most efficient way, but it still does the trick." By now, I've placed my index finger against my chin,  tapping it I look around more closely, my gaze travelling.

"Are you an investigative reporter?" The woman asks bemusedly. My eyes widen in surprise – did I just open my mouth when I shouldn't have? Shifting my gaze from the coffee table, I turn around to see three pairs of eyes staring at me with curiosity.

"Erm, no. I'm...I'm just an assistant," laughing with a nervous shake, I mentally slap myself and begin shuffling away from a specific pair of contact blue eyes that haven't left my figure.

"That was impressive, Catherine," Zander finally admits, his eyes narrowing.

Hell.

"I was just...I – I, I was just..."

"C'mon don't be shy, look. Zander here is so impressed that he's in minor shock," Patrick places a reassuring hand on my shoulder, panicked worry reflected on his face as I've gone slightly pale from a pair of piercing eyes that were dead set on evaluating me. 

"No I'm not," Zander vents, giving his friend an irritable glare.

Gloating, Patrick shakes his head, "Yes you are."