Match Wanted Page 9

  No one was forced to do anything by Eliza or anyone else. I’d been to Match de Amour. I saw the women and the men who frequented there. They were there on their own whim, and knowing Eliza, she wouldn’t allow anyone to force anyone to do something they didn’t want to do.

  The phone in my office rang, but I ignored it. I wasn’t in the mood to talk to anyone. Then it rang again. Usually, my secretary knew that if I didn’t pick up once, to make an excuse. Except for one exception.

  Giving in, I answered the call. “Yes?” I scratched the back of my head and tried to calm down the whirlwind inside my mind.

  “Sir? Your daughter is here to see you,” Stasia said.

  Yeah, I thought so. Wendy didn’t come here too much. But when she did, it was usually important. I hoped the babies were okay, but I was sure her impromptu visit wasn’t about the babies.

  “Thank you Stasia, send her in.”

  After a few moments, my door opened, and Wendy with her huge baby bump came waddling into my office. She wore a simple maternity dress and had flat ballet pumps on her swollen feet.

  “Daddy!” she said with her arms out, asking for a hug. I got up and gave her one. “Are you okay? I’ve been trying to get you, but you haven’t been answering your phone.”

  “I’m fine, and sorry, I’ve been preoccupied,” I said, helping her to a seat. She sat down and rubbed her stomach. She would be a good mother.

  My grandchildren would have a loving family. I could already tell that Eliza would make a good, if somewhat young, grandmother. The image of her cuddling our grandbabies gave me a momentary peace of mind. This storm would end. And end soon.

  Wendy blew out an exasperated breath. “I saw the news about Eliza… it’s not fair, she’s not some whorehouse leader… Or else I wouldn’t have invited her to my wedding…” Wendy’s cheeks flushed with anger.

  “I wish I could’ve gotten to know her sooner,” I said with a cheesy grin.

  “Yeah. I should have introduced you at our wedding… Daddy, I have something I need to tell you.”

  “What is it?”

  “Well,” she said, and then stopped to bite her cheek. “I now consider Eliza a dear friend, but before I really got to know her, I went to her for help…”

  “Help?” I sat at the edge of my desk. Maybe this was what I was sensing when I felt Eliza was holding something back from me.

  She stood and began pacing the office. “We were having money problems, remember?” She wrung her hands as she moved from one side of the office to the other.

  Then it hit me. Eliza, Wendy, Sam, and what Eliza was being accused of.

  I jumped up. “Wendy! Please don’t tell me you went to her for—”

  “It’s not like that! You see, she told me if I was a match to one of the rich men in her system, that I’d get paid for dating them. Sex wasn’t even on the table. And if it was, it was because both parties wanted it. It just happened that Sam was the one looking for a match… and a fake wife…”

  “Fake wife?” I echoed, planting my hands down on my desk to keep me grounded.

  “Yes…” she whispered.

  I swallowed hard, doing my best to keep my temper under control. “I see. Your marriage to Sam is fake?”

  “God, no, I love him with all my heart, but at the beginning, yes, it was fake. Sorry, Daddy, I disappointed you—”

  “Not at all. You’ve grown up to be a fine young lady, and things luckily worked out in your favor. You could never disappoint me. If anything, I’m disappointed in me. If it wasn’t for my actions, you would never have found yourself in such a position.”

  “Oh, Daddy,” she said, coming over to my side. “You did all you could do. I don’t blame you for how you were after mom died. If anything were to happen to Sam…”

  “I know, baby girl, I know.”

  As surprised as I was at Wendy going to Eliza for help, she wasn’t a pimp. Eliza wouldn’t do a thing unless the two people were a match, and she had brought a lot of loving couples together. Even my daughter and her old sweetheart. That led to me doing better too.

  I was still on Eliza’s side. Always. I would never doubt her actions or suspect her of forcing young girls into prostitution.

  “I hope my confession doesn’t change your feelings for Eliza. I just wanted you to know the truth since everything is being splashed on TV. Sooner or later my story would probably leak out too.”

  “Don’t worry. No one’s going to get away with this. One way or another I’m going to find out who’s behind this and I’m going to make them pay.”

  Wendy, who was now out of breath, sat down and regained her composure. “If anyone can do it, you can, Dad.”

  “That was brave of you to tell me. Thank you, Wendy.”

  “Thanks, Dad. You deserved to know the truth. Tell Eliza that I told you. I kind of begged her not to say anything.”

  “Okay, princess. I understand. I really do.”

  Wendy took another gulp of air before pushing herself out of the seat and giving me a peck on the cheek. “See you, Dad. I’m meeting up with Willow and her friend Stacy. They’re taking me shopping for baby furniture.”

  “Don’t push yourself too hard. Stay off those feet,” I said and wagged my finger.

  She rolled her eyes. “Yes, Dad…”

  She left my office and closed the door behind her. Work would have to wait.

  I had a few connections in the media and eventually got the number to the main reporter on the story. The one who broke it.

  I dialed her number and waited for her to pick up while I tapped my fingers impatiently against my desk.

  “Hello, this is Melissa Wynn speaking.”

  “This is Mr. Monroe from the Dawson and Dawson firm. I was wondering if you could tell me the person who’s been spreading shit about Eliza Rousseau.”

  “That information is private, Mr. Monroe” she scoffed, smacking gum as she talked.

  “I have a few women represented by this firm who’d like to talk to someone off the record, for now. They’d like to speak to the person who’s brought this issue to light.”

  “I see…”

  Silence followed. She was letting it marinate, but reporters weren’t known for their silence.

  “Ms. Wynn?” I said, digging for a response.

  “I’m sorry. I am not at liberty to give out that information. Bye.” She hung up, and I slammed my phone down, breaking off a few chunks of plastic.

  “Shit.”

  There was knocking at my door, and I tore myself from the phone to answer it. “Come in.”

  “Beckett, you’re back earlier than expected. Good. I want to talk to you…” Mike Dawson, my friend from rehab, slipped into my office. His walk was slow and cautious. He must’ve sensed my anger.

  “Sure, Mike, what is it?” I smiled and laced my fingers together, placing them on my desk. Mike sat down opposite me, and sighed, crossing his legs.

  “What’s going on? Did you fall off the wagon? Everyone here is gossiping about how tense you are. You’re usually so cool and at ease. Please, let me know if there’s something I can help with.”

  I didn’t think I’d be the one needing help, but if anything could help me get closer to helping Eliza, then I’d take it and sacrifice my ego.

  “Yes, actually, there is.”

  Mike leaned forward and focused on my face. “What is it? Tell me, I owe you my life for helping to save my company and my ass.”

  “Have you seen the news about Eliza Rousseau’s troubles?” I motioned to the TV and switched it back on. She was on almost every cable news channel. I swallowed back a lump of anger in my throat. Mike leaned forward and examined me closely.

  “I know Eliza well. I’ve used her before. That’s how I found my wife. Now, I’ll be honest, I thought she was just a quick fuck match. But the more time I spent with her, the more I knew how special Eliza Rousseau’s services were. Without her, I would never have met Suzy.”

  “I’m blown away. S
uzy was one of Eliza’s girls?”

  “One of Eliza’s best girls.”

  “Well, I’m aiming to make Eliza my wife. But before I can do that, I have to find out who’s doing this to her so I can get them to stop. I tried, but the reporter shut me down quick.”

  “The reporter? Which one?” Mike asked.

  “Melissa Wynn.”

  “She owes me favors. Lots of them. You want to find out who’s been telling her this info,” he guessed correctly. He rubbed his chin and shifted his weight in his seat. He was thinking…

  “Yes, and find out why they’re doing it. There’s got to be a way to stop them,” I said, nestling my chin on the top of my hands in deep thought. I couldn’t sit here or pay attention to work when Eliza was out there getting attacked by God knows who.

  “Fight fire with fire. Hold on. Let me make a few calls.” Mike got up and straightened his jacket and walked out of the office with his head held high. He probably felt glad he could ‘give back to me’ since he felt I saved him.

  “Thanks, Mike. I owe you,” I said as he walked out the door.

  “I’m the one who owes you, Beckett.”

  He closed the door on his way out, and I heard a slight chuckle from him as he went down the hall.

  Now that I was all alone, I thought more about Eliza and the fact that she didn’t want me around. She didn’t want me hurt, and I was glad she didn’t want me in the path of destruction. But as her match, her mate for life, I had to make sure I could protect her. Whether she wanted me to or not. Was she so used to fighting alone?

  Well, no matter if she was. I had to change that and make her see she was no longer alone.

  What I needed to do was keep an eye on her. So, I picked up the phone and made a few calls. One to a flower shop, and another to a friend who was good with cameras and surveillance equipment…

  Chapter Thirteen

  Eliza

  I’d spent the day at home. I’d avoided Match de Amour because of all the reporters hanging around outside. Poor Lucy had locked herself inside and was refusing to come out.

  After some digging, I’d found the number to the reporter who had first brought this bullshit to light.

  I wasn’t too surprised to find out it was Melissa Wynn. I should have told her to get lost when she stopped me outside of the offices. Doing a story on matchmaking and dating apps my ass, she was trying to get dirt on me for her story.

  I dialed her number and waited for her to pick up. I’d done some research, something I should have done before talking to her the first time.

  She was known to be hard on these types of cases and didn’t let up until she drew blood. But I had to start somewhere, and talking to her was the first step in getting all this trash solved

  “Hello, Melissa Wynn,” she said, her voice devoid of friendliness.

  “This is Eliza Rousseau. I want to talk to you about these claims against my matching business.” I twirled the phone cord in my fingers and bobbled my foot up and down, waiting for her reaction to my call.

  All there was, was a simple click of the phone.

  I called her back. And she picked up. “Hello, Melissa Wynn,” she said in the same monotonous voice.

  “Hello, I believe our lines accidentally—”

  “No, that was on purpose,” she blurted, cutting me off. I felt the vein in my forehead throb.

  “You must listen to me. Surely you want to hear both sides of the story. I don’t know who is attacking my business, but they’re using you as a pawn, and I don’t like it.” Instead of twirling the cord in my fingers, I was strangling it in my palm now.

  “Or maybe, they’re telling the truth, and you’re just sugar coating prostitution.”

  “Sex is a part of life, but, I swear, my business only brings together true matches. What they decide to do mutually as two adults is there business,” I argued.

  “So, you’re admitting that you’re nothing but a pimp.”

  “I said no such thing, Ms. Wynn. Please do not twist my words. I’m a matcher. My business matches people based on a program I created about ten years ago. When we talked outside of my offices not too long ago, you seemed so chipper and somewhat sweet. Maybe you should drop by again and find yourself a match. It might help you sound a little happier.”

  The bitch hung up on me again. I slammed down the receiver, relieved I gotten a little something off my chest. But in the end, I didn’t much get anywhere close to my goals.

  “What the hell am I supposed to do now?” I could’ve called Beckett for help, but he had just gone through a lot himself. I didn’t want to take him down a rough road with me. That wouldn’t be fair to him or Wendy.

  My heart ached when I pictured his distraught face at the airport. I so wanted to have him pull me into his arms, to stroke my back and tell me everything would be okay, but I didn’t want to drag him into my mess. He was better far away from me.

  I slammed my fist onto my coffee table, shaking the ornate vase of flowers Beckett had sent me. I steadied the vase and then shot out of my seat. I needed a strong, swift drink. I went into my kitchen and dug through my drinks cabinets, all the way back and pulled out a twenty-thousand-dollar bottle of vodka. One I had saved for extreme circumstances. The last time I drank this was when my ex had admitted to cheating.

  Maybe he had something to do with this… But on second thought, this was more of a high-level revenge thing more than anything else. This seemed… female driven.

  My cell phone vibrated against the kitchen table, and I picked it up to see who was calling. Beckett, damn it. It twisted my stomach in knots to see him calling me repeatedly. I didn’t answer, and I wasn’t going to. He had to stay away from this before whoever was attacking me attacked him too.

  “Why do you have to be so damn protective?”

  He knew all my sweet spots. How to hold me, how to speak to me, and how to touch me. He was truly my match, but I attracted far too much drama, and he deserved more than that.

  As if seeking to punish myself even more, I turned on the TV. The local news channel was the first thing to come on. My face, my business, everything was splashed all over the screen. My precious Match de Amour was becoming known as a whorehouse. My rivals would be chewing on this trash like a good steak dinner.

  My phone rang again, but this time it was Lucy. I picked it up and answered.

  “Madame, I wanted to check in on you. Are you holding up okay? I’m so sorry you’re dealing with this.”

  “I’m as well as can be expected, Lucy. This will come to an end soon. There will be a good resolution, oui?”

  “Oui…” Though her voice didn’t sound very much like a ‘yes.’

  “I heard the last event was a great success,” I said changing the subject. “I’m proud of you Lucy. We need to find you a match too and soon.”

  “Ah! I’m good. I don’t want one right now,” Lucy said, her sugary voice soothing my nerves. What she had just said had triggered my curiosity to a new level.

  “What do you mean you don’t want a match?” I asked.

  “Well, I don’t think I’m ready for love or any of the baggage that comes with it. I’m much too focused on my career and learning all I can from you.”

  “You’re such a sweet girl, Lucy.” A loud banging coming from the front door interrupted our conversation.

  “Darling, let me call you back.”

  “Oui, take care, Madame. I’ll call you later to check in on you again.” Her light-hearted demeanor during trying times was good for me. It was interesting that she didn’t want to find a match. She had high respect and awareness of herself. I admired that.

  Placing my phone on my table, I quietly tippy-toed to the door. The banging sounds got louder, shaking my door and the surrounding wall.

  “Open up bitch!” shouted a loud and very familiar voice.

  Before I could get to my door, there were loud thunking sounds, and my door swung open to reveal two people on my banned list.

&n
bsp; “Samantha, and I see you’ve brought my sister Marie. Why am I not surprised at seeing you two? And how the hell did you open my door.”

  “I can break into any lock,” Samantha said proudly.

  They strode inside, leaving the front door open.

  “Dear Eliza, big sister, you look wonderful. We came here to see if we could strike a deal,” Marie said, her eyes wide with greed.

  “So, you’re behind the attacks on my reputation? I should have known, but I didn’t think you’d ever stoop this low.”

  She had never been the honest type. Getting things the good old-fashioned way through work wasn’t her style.

  “I want what’s yours. I’m so sick of you being the successful sister. The one our parents idolize. It’s my turn to have their love.”

  “If you want their love, earn it. Blackmail is not the way to go.”

  “That’s not the only reason,” Marie continued. “You promised you’d find me love, but all you found me was heartache. You’re a fraud who makes false promises. The world knows that now. I intend to find my perfect match using your database.”

  I turned my attention to Samantha. “You must be desperate to make deals with my sister.”

  Samantha glowered. “Thanks to you banning me from making matches, my money stream has run dry.”

  “Look in the mirror, the only person to blame for that is you.”

  Marie walked around my apartment, lifting up my possessions before putting them back down. I wasn’t stupid, she was silently appraising their value.

  “Get your hands off my things, Marie.”

  She turned around and laughed. “Like you can order me around. We’re not kids anymore. We have something you need.”

  “And what is that, pray tell?”

  Samantha approached me and glared. “I can destroy you with a click of my fingers, Eliza, or I can make it all go away.”

  “Why are you doing this to me?” I asked. Marie came back over, and now both of them surrounded me.

  Samantha cleared her throat. “After your security threw me out for ruining that girl’s pretty wedding dress, I happened to bump into your sister who was being blocked from entering.”