Series: Mr. Match #4
the formula for love. So why is he still single?
couples have found love thanks to me, that was never really the point. The one
guy I most wanted to match?
Diego finds out exactly who I am. And then the questions will begin. Why
hasn’t Mr. Match found his match?
into question all the matches I’ve made so far. It’s time to step away.
business, I’m starting to wonder if love really is as easy as a mathematical
formula. Because Tatum Archer does something to me that defies logic and
confounds reason. I feel feelings for her, even though the algorithm says I
well, okay, that wasn’t part of the plan, but Charlie is my sidekick now and
I’m okay with that.
business sounds like just the kind of challenge I thrive on. I just
didn’t expect Mr. Match himself to be quite so…
temporarily, it makes perfect sense from a business perspective. But getting
involved with a client would be the end of everything I’d spent years building.
keep our hands off each other?
doesn’t date clients, and Max isn’t signing up for a romantic liaison that
hasn’t been mathematically guaranteed. So why can’t he stop thinking about Tatum? Or about her ridiculously enormous
dog, Charlie? Not that he’s thinking about Charlie romantically, of course. But
the dog is part of a package deal. And maybe he’s thinking about Tatum a little
The final book in the Mr. Match series sees Mr. Match finally find his own
match! Don’t miss the laughs in this hilarious series finale!
to answer a bunch of questions I didn’t want to answer. Before the whole thing
blew up and then tanked spectacularly because I was revealed to be a fraud. And
so naturally, I had a plan.
was lounging on the leather sofa in the middle of my living room. “It’s a
goldmine! Why would you do that?”
found me again. “Max,” she said quietly, looking sad.
That wasn’t my style. “It’s fine. It’s not even that. The whole secrecy
thing is exhausting, and I think I’m pretty close to being outed, which would
be bad for the business. Bad for me. And probably bad for the Sharks,
hurt the Sharks,” she said.
the living room from the patio and yard. My house was nice—big and open, lots
of upscale touches and fancy appliances. But it felt cold to me, despite the almost
constant San Diego sunshine, and I spent a lot of my time out on this patio.
Less oppressive than that unfilled space. “Why do you care if I keep it,
anyway?” I asked, turning to look back inside.
over the grass beyond the patio toward the fence, which sat just along the
curve of Mission Bay. The Isleys lived a few doors down, though I swear we
didn’t plan it that way. “I don’t know,” she said. “It’s
nostalgia, I guess. You always talked about figuring out how love wasn’t this
complicated mystical thing. And then you did it. I just thought it would mean
something to you, even if you never …” she trailed off, glancing at me
and then sinking into a cushioned chair next to the teak table.
efforts at finding a match of my own. I’d been one of the first complete
profiles in the database, but my file had sat there, gathering dust, for years
now. The algorithm was built to match and weigh the most crucial aspects of
someone’s personality, giving mathematical priority to those aspects
statistically most likely to correlate to longevity in relationships. I’d
tweaked the math multiple times over the years, and tons of happy couples all
around San Diego, Los Angeles, and now Arizona, had benefited. But I had
rainbow-maned kind with a cat riding on its back like a Viking conqueror,
throwing glitter around. I was like a sad gothic unicorn, horn draped in black
crepe and too much guy liner.
again?” Cat asked, interrupting my train of thought.
“I have a novel idea for you.”
novel or not.
her eyes at me and blowing out a breath in frustration. “Listen first,
jackass. Then tell me no.”
sentences that make sense.”
couldn’t help reverting to grade-school banter when we were together. It was
our dynamic. It drove Mom crazy, but when Mom wasn’t around, we reveled in it.
“Why not try this dating thing the old fashioned way?”
imagined a stagecoach rolling in, a frightened-looking Midwestern girl coming
down off the steps in a hoop skirt. It turns out I have a very visual
imagination. I do best when I keep my little imaginings to myself though.
I agreed. I wasn’t eager to see where Cat was going with this. Distraction
here.” Cat stood up. “I met an adorable girl at the gallery last
week, and I got her number. You set me up on dates before I met Xavier, so now
I’m setting you up.”
up on dates that had a high mathematical probability of working out
successfully. That’s how you met Xavier, remember?”
The formula had needed tweaking back then. But you had to hand it to a guy so
germaphobic he’d managed to find a place to buy condoms to put on the passenger
seat of his car. “Still. Definitely no to the setting-Max-up
and was texting someone.
wanted. I stood and went to look over my sister’s shoulder, but she’d already
You guys are probably perfect for each other.” Cat smiled like she had
just achieved world peace.
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