Romance Reset

  Romance Reset

  MAKE ME A MATCH SERIES

  Kay Lyons

  KINDRED SPIRITS PUBLISHING

  Copyright

  ROMANCE RESET Copyright © 2020 by Kay Lyons

  Cover art © 2020 @ alessandroguerr

  Cover art design © 2020 Kindred Spirits Publishing

  All rights reserved.

  978-1-946863-98-0

  978-1-946863-99-7

  No part of this book may be reproduced in any form or by any electronic or mechanical means, including information storage and retrieval systems, without written permission from the author, except for the use of brief quotations in a book review.

  Contents

  Chapter 1

  Chapter 2

  Chapter 3

  Chapter 4

  Chapter 5

  Chapter 6

  Chapter 7

  Chapter 8

  Chapter 9

  Chapter 10

  Chapter 11

  Chapter 12

  Chapter 13

  Chapter 14

  Chapter 15

  Chapter 16

  Chapter 17

  Books Also Set in Carolina Cove

  Also by Kay Lyons

  About the Author

  FAQ

  Chapter 1

  “You did wha— Seriously?” Amelia Parker asked, blown away by the news her best friend had just dropped like a bomb. “You hired a matchmaker? For me?”

  “Yes, for you,” Izzy said. “Meli, you Googled directions to sperm banks and checked out their Yelp reviews.”

  “I was researching. That’s no reason to go crazy a-and hire a matchmaker.” It wasn’t that she was anti-matchmaker but what the process meant. She’d made a firm decision about using a sperm bank to get the family she wanted. Trying her hand at dating—again—messed with that plan. And with her biological clock ticking… Time wasn’t on her side.

  "Yeah, hiring a matchmaker is the crazy in that scenario. If you’re willing to go that route just because the big four-oh looms in the distance–”

  “Not that distant.”

  “Then there is no reason not to try my idea first,” Izzy said as though Amelia hadn’t interrupted her. “Meli, you’ve given up on love and romance and I can’t stand it.”

  The noise of the restaurant faded into the background as Amelia stared into the concerned expression of her friend. The fat-paddle fans overhead kept the air flowing, but nothing could cool the heat flooding Amelia’s body due to stress.

  “Says the woman who is as single as I am.” Izzy was an artist Amelia had met four years ago after consigning a special piece for a particular movie set. They’d hit it off and become fast friends. But shouldn’t a friend know not to mess with another friend’s plans?

  “That may be so but I’m not trying to be a baby mama. You seriously don’t want to raise a kid alone, do you?”

  “Who says if I’m with someone he’ll stick around? Do you know how many single parents are in the world? I know it’ll be difficult, but why not save myself the heartache of meeting someone only to have them walk out later?”

  “Wow. Cynical much?”

  Amelia glared at Izzy. “Wait until you’re my age. I’ve pretty much seen it all.” Izzy was ten years younger than Amelia and obviously wasn’t worried about children any time soon. Izzy had issues with her two biological sisters, and not for the first time did Amelia wonder if Izzy’s stubbornness and persistence had something to do with the difficulties within her immediate family.

  “You’re doing this,” Izzy said. “You’re meeting her. I won’t hear another word about it.”

  Izzy tilted her head as she stared at Amelia and wore what Amelia always thought of as Izzy’s booya expression. Izzy widened her very expressive eyes and set her jaw, lips pursed in a determined line. “So is she setting you up, too?” Time to change tactics. Obviously getting out of the mess wasn’t an option, so maybe she should drag Izzy along for the ride?

  “No. At least not yet, anyway. Look, you mentioned meeting Marsali Jones on the set of the movie set you’re designing, and that she’s a friend of Oliver Beck’s. He’s a freaking Hollywood actor and friends with this woman. She’s obviously got something, and if anyone can help you find the perfect man, I think she can. You know I’m right.”

  “Izzy—”

  “You said how well you and Marsali hit it off, so I decided to take it a step further and contact her for you. She loves the idea, by the way, and thinks the world of you.”

  “You told her?”

  “Only that you’re ready to settle down with a family. Anyway, she sang your praises and said she knows she can find you a wonderful match.”

  Amelia groaned and buried her face in her hands. “I’m going to strangle you. Poison you. Push you off a boat into the Intercoastal.”

  “Yeah, yeah. Come on, Meli, you’re embarrassed about being set up by a professional matchmaker, but you’re not embarrassed about knowing which sperm banks have a better selection of swimmers?”

  That comment was delivered right as their waitress stopped by their table to deliver their drinks, and Amelia nearly dove under the wooden surface. She wasn’t shy by nature but certain things needed to remain private. Like their talk of sperm banks and her plan to use one in order to become a mom. “She’s joking,” Amelia said to the teenager.

  “Am not,” Izzy countered in a low, singsong voice once the waitress left their drinks and was out of earshot.

  “Why do you think me having a baby is a problem?” Amelia asked, continuing the argument with her so-called friend.

  “It’s the way you’re going about it that I have a problem with. That and the fact you think you can pick a kid from a catalogue of characteristics when picking men that way hasn’t worked out for you.”

  “Owwwch.” Didn’t Izzy get it? She was tired. Tired of searching, tired of looking for the right man only to be disappointed. She’d spent the last twenty-three years dating. Maybe not seriously at first, but later she’d tried and wanted more but never found it. And the sad fact was that men her age were now searching for younger women because they were finally ready to settle down and have families, and her age factored into a relationship.

  “Today you’re hearing truth,” Izzy argued. “All truth and nothing but. I’m tired of sugarcoating my thoughts on this, and you’ve asked me for my opinion several times, so you’re going to get it. No holding back.”

  “I changed my mind. Lie to me,” Amelia muttered.

  “Nope. And since I knew you’d protest and make excuses to not meet Marsali, now’s a good time to tell you she’s here. Hiii, Marsali,” Izzy called, waving to someone behind Amelia. “Scoot,” Izzy ordered in a low breath to Amelia.

  Amelia gasped and turned, realizing Marsali Jones was indeed joining them. But what Izzy hadn’t considered was whether or not their off-set connection would, well, get back to the set. If Amelia’s colleagues found out about this, she would never live it down. “Okay, then. Strangulation it is,” Amelia muttered to Izzy.

  “Ladies, how are we this evening?” Marsali asked, moving with graceful intent toward their table.

  Marsali looked as put together as always, dressed as she was in a bright sleeveless top and white skinny jeans. The coral color of her blouse brought out Marsali’s tan and the many freckles that looked so charming.

  “Great now that you’re here,” Izzy said, motioning to Amelia to scoot over to make room.

  “Amelia, it’s so good to see you again,” Marsali said, tone sweet.

  “You, too,” Amelia managed to mutter, knowing Izzy wanted Marsali to sit beside her on the booth seat in order to block her only hope of escaping the train wreck Izzy had put into motion.

  “Please, have a seat,�
�� Izzy added, raising one of her perfectly groomed eyebrows in Amelia’s direction.

  Amelia glared at Izzy but scooched over so that Marsali could lower herself onto the padded seat and settle in.

  “Amelia, don’t look so nervous. I won’t bite,” Marsali said.

  Amelia pasted a weak smile to her lips and took in the other woman’s fresh-faced appearance. Marsali Jones was not what one might expect in a professional matchmaker. Amelia guessed Marsali to be in her late twenties, but with minimal makeup and freckles galore, Marsali wound up looking not much older than a teenager. Combined with her long, curly hair, she looked way too young to be weaving people’s futures together in the lifetime kind of way. How was this ever going to work? “Sorry. My dear friend Izzy kind of sprang this on me.”

  “No worries. Before I take you on as a client, I have to feel comfortable with your willingness to be matched. So if you’re truly not willing and you don’t want to give this a try, we’ll just move on and have some nice girl talk. But before you say no,” Marsali said when Amelia opened her mouth, “I hope you’ll give me a chance, because I’m pretty darn good at what I do. Are you willing to share your story? Is there a particular reason you’re pursuing—”

  “Sperm banks,” Izzy interjected. “Sperm that could come from anyone.”

  Once again, the young waitress returned at the most inopportune time and caught the last of Izzy’s statement. Amelia watched as the girl’s eyes widened just a tad before she smoothed her features and attempted a modicum of diplomacy, something Amelia wished Izzy could learn. Fast.

  “Um, can I get you a drink?” the waitress asked Marsali.

  “Iced tea, half cut, please,” Marsali said, smiling at the young woman. “Thank you.”

  “Coming right up. I’ll get y’all’s order when I get back.”

  Amelia watched as the girl slid a weirded-out glance in her direction before she walked away. Amelia shot Izzy what she hoped was a silencing look. “Seriously? Will you please stop airing my business to the entire restaurant?”

  “Sorry,” Izzy mumbled. “But it’s the truth.”

  “You don’t have to shout it to the world,” Amelia said with a groan.

  “If you’re that uncomfortable talking about it, how on earth do you think you’re going to be able to do it, Meli? Where would you say the kid is from? Mars?”

  “Okay, okay, let’s… take a breath,” Marsali said, calmly inserting herself in the conversation. “Amelia, tell me about you. Let’s start there, shall we? I know the answers to some of these questions already, but it helps to ask them again to break the ice and get things rolling. Let’s begin with, have you ever been married?”

  Forced to endure the next hour or so of torture unless she was going to jump up atop the table and make a run for the door, Amelia resigned herself to the conversation about to take place. “No. I haven’t. I… I was asked once but we were too young.”

  “And in response she sold everything she had, emptied her bank account, and left for Europe the very next day,” Izzy added.

  “So marriage scared you?” Marsali asked, her gaze searching.

  Didn’t marriage scare everyone? “I was eighteen and he was my first real boyfriend. And since then, I’ve been living my life,” Amelia said to them. She hesitated to own her truth. Didn’t want to face it because she’d never again experienced a love like that one and in the twenty-three years of dating since, she’d felt like a failure because of it. Like she’d given up her one and only chance and had been punished because of it.

  “I see. That is young,” Marsali said. “Have you come close to marriage since then?”

  “No. Well, sort of, but… I found a ring and thought he was close to asking me but then discovered him sleeping with my neighbor so…”

  “I see,” Marsali murmured as she took notes. “Would you say you’re wary because of your experiences? Afraid of repeating them?”

  “Definitely. She dates sporadically,” Izzy offered. “And the moment they get serious, she bolts.”

  “I don’t bolt, I simply refuse to settle,” Amelia clarified. “If I feel someone is getting serious when I’m just not that interested, I end things before it becomes more complicated. There’s a difference. Marriage shouldn’t be about settling. Not if you want it to last.”

  “Fine, I’ll give you that. But you’re definitely settling if you do this whole sperm thing,” Izzy said, thankfully lowering her voice, “without giving Marsali a chance. Just try it, Meli. What can it hurt? Other than a date here and there since you moved back to Wilmington three years ago, you’ve worked nonstop. At this point, I’d be surprised if you remember what men look like.”

  “Okay, okay, ladies, let’s focus,” Marsali said softly, earning their attention once more. “Amelia, I think it’s clear Izzy wants you to be happy. We can agree on that, right?”

  “I suppose,” Amelia murmured.

  “Well, I have some great guys in my database looking for equally great women. We have a lot of ground to cover, but if you agree, I’d love to set you up. You’re how old?”

  “Thirty-eight,” she murmured, avoiding Izzy’s gaze because of her upset with her friend. “Which is why time is of the essence if I’m going to be able to get pregnant at all.”

  “I understand,” Marsali said in a soothing voice. “And believe it or not, I have some guys feeling the same way. They’ve put their careers first and have reached an age where they want to be a father before they feel too old to enjoy the experience. So let’s start with what you like in a man. What attracts you and makes you want to get to know them better?”

  Amelia closed her eyes and took a calming breath. Marsali and Izzy couldn’t make her do anything she didn’t want to do. Answering a few questions wouldn’t hurt. Would it? “I like… intelligence, being able to hold an articulate conversation. I like good looks and manners. Someone who knows how to treat a woman like she is more than an object to be used for sex or housekeeping duties.”

  “A man who appreciates his woman as his partner,” Marsali murmured. “I like those qualities, too. They’re getting harder to find these days but not impossible. What else?”

  Amelia lifted her shoulders in a shrug. “He’d… have to be faithful. That’s definitely a priority. I mean, if I’m involved with someone, I’m not just passing time until the next person comes along—and that’s impossible to find in the dating world right now. I know,” she stated, glaring at Izzy, “because I’ve tried to find that man despite what Izzy thinks, but men today say cheating is normal and everyone does it.”

  “Not true. Fidelity is hard to find but not impossible,” Marsali countered. “It depends on where you’re looking, and again, my database is filled with men who are actively looking for women who desire the same things you’re describing.” Marsali scribbled in her notebook and began making bulleted lists. “Does occupation factor in?”

  That question threw her. She wasn’t a snob but… “He’d have to bring something to the table. I mean, at my age, I have a home, a good job, a life. He’d need to enhance that, I suppose.”

  “No, you’re exactly right,” Marsali said. “You don’t want someone who would be a detriment to your career. You want someone as motivated as you are and as successful. Someone supportive. Now, what about looks? Do you prefer facial hair? Dark hair or blond? Is bald or balding a yes or no?”

  Amelia answered the questions one by one, even though she felt the whole process was useless. The waitress returned and took their order, and as soon as she was gone, Marsali picked up where she’d left off.

  “What about kids? Okay if he has some already?”

  “Yes.”

  “And you want children?”

  More than anything. “Yes. If possible.”

  As the interview continued, Amelia found herself really thinking about her perfect match. Who he’d be and how they’d fit together as two parts of a whole. Marsali made it easy, gently leading her with another question when Amelia
hesitated or helping Amelia narrow down too broad of an answer. They covered political stances and religion.

  “What about pets? Are you a dog person? Cat only? What?” Marsali asked.

  “Definitely no reptiles. Or rats,” she quickly added, “or creatures of that sort. I’m allergic to cats so they’re out as well. A dog would be okay.”

  “Dog-friendly is good. A lot of my men have happy, healthy dogs so it bodes well,” Marsali said, smiling. “Okay. That about does it, I think. I have what I need from you, but I’ll text or call you if I have any more questions. The good news is that I have a couple of men in mind,” Marsali said.

  “Seriously?” Amelia asked.

  Marsali gave her a gentle smile.

  “You’re not demanding, Amelia. What you desire is a good man. An honest, loyal, hardworking man with integrity and drive. That’s doable.”

  “If it’s so doable, why haven’t I met him already?” Amelia asked.

  “Because they’re working as hard as you are and go home just as exhausted. Plus, they have also been jaded by dating and have much the same reservations. Women aren’t the only ones who have been cheated on and lied to, taken advantage of, and even abused. But they want to find someone special and are ready to commit, and know they probably won’t find this person in a bar. Most of my clients are successful and therefore well-known in the area, and don’t want their clients or associates seeing them on dating sites. That’s why they go through me. It’s discreet, the dates are vetted, and it’s simply more professional. So, it’s decision time. I can help you. The question is… do you want me to?”

  Oh. Oh, boy. Even though Marsali seemed to be a wonderful person, this was a lot to consider.