Matchmaker 05 May

Brooklyn

I staggered into my house, kicking off my heels the moment I stepped through the door. I'd flown to Seattle, Washington, on Tuesday morning, and now, Friday evening, I was finally home in Chicago, tired and ready to sleep in my own bed. Short of flying charter, first class was as good as it got, but I still had to deal with crowds, terminals, luggage, and delays. Even a charter wouldn't have helped with the weather delay in Chicago that made my flight two hours late.

I'd flown to Seattle and driven to Clear Lake to interview a prospective companion. Michelle was my most thoroughly vetted companion yet. My interviews typically took three to four hours, but I'd spent more than twelve hours, over two days, talking to Michelle. She needed to be vetted better than most. I'd tried placing a companion with Garret Lemay twice before, and both times the pairing had ended in failure.

Having my shoes off was an amazing relief, and after unpacking, I changed out of my suit into something more comfortable before pouring myself a glass of wine to help me unwind even more. Glass in hand, I settled into my couch, tipped my head back into the cushions, and closed my eyes. I flipped through my mental file cabinet to review what I knew about Garret, trying to determine if Michelle was the right person for him.

Garret was a self-assured, though charming, ass, that needed to be in control. I'd quickly paired him with a submissive woman and sent them to Las Vegas for a month of fun. Less than a week after their vacation ended, Randi, his companion, had contacted me in tears. Garret had cut all contact with her and she was devastated. She'd fallen hard for him and begged me to talk to him, desperate to find out what she'd done wrong and how she could make it up to him.

I normally didn't interfere once I paired my client with a companion, allowing nature to take its course. Most of my pairings lasted, but not all, and this was one of my failures. I was surprised because she'd seemed perfect for him. Garret needed to be in control of every situation, and Randi, a seductive brunette of twenty-three, would thrive with a strong, dominant male who completely controlled her.

I always followed up with my clients, to make sure they were happy with my services, but normally I waited about three months to give the client and companion a chance to work out their future, if there was one. Knowing that Garret had fully rejected Randi, I'd contacted him early.

The simple matter was, he'd grown tired of her, as he apparently grew tired of all the woman in his life. Strong women wouldn't put up with his bullshit, and he eventually tired of women he could easily control, even one as lovely and sexy as Randi. He was completely upfront with me and said that even though Randi had allowed him to use her in any manner he chose, he'd grown bored with her. It was probably why at thirty-one he claimed to have never had a relationship that lasted longer than three months.

After I'd spoken to Garret, I'd broken the news to Randi as gently as I could. She was destroyed, pleading with me to help her win Garret, promising to be any woman he wanted her to be. My heart went out to the her, but there was nothing I could do to help her. The fact she was willing to be a chameleon for him told me she didn't have it in her to be what he wanted. While I felt bad for her, I was always clear that I could guarantee nothing and had made no promises that she and Garret would hit it off or remain together. Companions always had the option to walk away at any time, and the clients did as well. I'd softened the blow for her by telling her I would keep her information on file, since I'd already vetted her, and perhaps I could pair her with another client in the future. There was always a demand from powerful men for beautiful, sexy, submissive women.

I'd asked Garret if he wanted me to try again, and he'd agreed. After Randi failed to catch his fancy, at least after he got tired of using her, I thought I had a better idea of what he was looking for. It had taken me almost four months to find another companion for him.

The second time I'd paired him with Callie, a thirty-five-year-old businesswoman from Minneapolis who owned a chain of fitness centers in Minneapolis, St. Paul, Rochester, and St. Cloud, Minnesota, and Eau Claire, Wisconsin.

That pairing had been an even more spectacular failure. While Callie was strong enough to stand up to Garret, they hadn't hit off at all, and after three days she'd stormed out of Vieux Monde House in the French Quarter of New Orleans, calling me the next day to tell me if she ever saw Garret fucking Lemay again she'd have him arrested for stalking.

I'd contacted Garret to find out how it had gone so completely wrong. After several calls back and forth between Garret and me, and Callie and me, I'd worked out that they were simply oil and water. They'd spent the entire three days sniping at each other, when they weren't screaming, neither willing to listen to the other, nor budge an inch in accommodation.

I'd tried to find a companion twice for Garret. He'd already paid over two-hundred thousand dollars in fees and expenses, but he'd asked me to try one more time. I'd spent another two months looking for someone that was a mixture of Randi's tolerance and Callie's strength. Not an easy combination to find.

I sighed as I took another sip of my wine. I'd sleep on Michelle for a day or so and give my subconscious a chance to work her over. I also needed to find a location, someplace to reduce the distractions and choices. I'd tried Vegas, because Randi enjoyed nightlife, and the French Quarter in a hotel that transported a couple back in time with its four poster beds, antique furnishings, and distinct lack of modern conveniences. Neither had worked its magic.

While Randi hadn't complained, in Vegas Garret had done only what he wanted to, ignoring Randi unless he was fucking her. Few women would tolerate that, and those that would he would quickly grow tired of, just like he had with Randi. In New Orleans, he and Callie couldn't even agree on where to eat or what to do to fill their time. They were too stubborn and self-centered to even try to find a compromise. They'd spent all their time ignoring each other while doing their own thing or making snide comments about each other when they were together.

I finished my wine. I was too tired to trust any decision I might make now. Tomorrow was another day, and after a good night's sleep I'd be able to think more clearly. I rose, rinsed out my glass but left it in the sink, and trudged to my bedroom. I got myself ready and tumbled into bed.

As sleep began to claim me, I decided this was it. If Garret rejected or drove off a third companion, I wasn't going to try to find another woman for him. While there might be someone out there for everyone, and I was paid handsomely to find them, I wouldn't continually subject women to his abrasive nature, no matter the money.

I sighed as I began to slide into sleep. Even if Michelle was the right person, I still had to find someplace for them to go. A place where he couldn't ignore Michelle, limit their options for eating and entertaining, yet still provide a memorable experience to draw them together. In the twilight of half-sleep, when the world seemed so clear, I realized that I needed to find a woman, and a place, that would shake Garret up, take him out of his comfort zone, knock him off his center, and make him less sure of himself. It wouldn't be easy, but it was exactly what he needed, even if he didn't realize it himself.

.

.

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Garret

"Is this it?" the Uber driver asked as he crept to a stop on the twisting, winding, road that seemed to go on forever while leading nowhere. To our right was a dirt road that disappeared down a steep grade and into a thick forest.

"I have no idea. My first time here."

"The GPS says this is the place. You want me to take you down there to see what's there?"

I eyed the road suspiciously. "Think you can you make it?"

We were riding in a Chevy Impala and the last thing I wanted was for him to get stuck. If that happened, we'd probably get eaten by bears or something.

The man smiled. "Sure. Someone's maintaining the drive."

"This is a drive?"

I guess the man heard the surprise in my voice because he laughed. "Looks like it. Never been to Montana before, eh?"

"That obvious, huh?"

He turned down the drive. "Yeah, around here, some of us drive five miles to the mailbox."

I looked at him, but I couldn't tell if he was kidding. It wasn't five miles, but it was at least two or three before he pulled to a stop in a graveled clearing. There was a new, white Chevy Tahoe sitting there, and smoke was drifting lazily up from the stone chimney. Someone was home, but I didn't know if it was the person I was supposed to meet.

"Wait here a minute," I said as I popped open the door.

I walked up to the cabin perched at the edge of a hill. It was small, probably not as big as my garage at home, and made of logs. I stepped up onto the rough plank porch and rapped solidly on the heavy wood door. I glanced around. The cabin was set in a clearing between two low peaks and surrounded by thick forest. Because summer was approaching, the grass was beginning to green in patches and a few of the trees were showing new growth. The door opened and I returned my attention to the business at hand.

The redhead who opened the door was stunning. I quickly composed myself. "Sorry to bother you, but I'm looking for Lady Slipper Meadows, 15432 Lolo Hot Springs Road. Is this the place?"

Even if it's not, can I stay anyway?

I thought but said nothing.

The goddess smiled. "The key left for me opened the door, so I assume so."

"Michelle?"

"Yes. Garret?"

"That's me. If this isn't the right place, I guess we can be lost together."

"Sounds like a plan." She stepped back. "Come in."

"I have to get my bags. Hang on." I hurried back to the Uber. "This is the place."

The driver popped the trunk and I pulled my two suitcases out, pausing as I walked past to hand him a hundred. "Thanks."

He took the bill, his eyes wide. "No, thank you, sir!"

I nodded and hefted my cases. Michelle stepped back, opening the door wide, as I entered.

"Bedroom is upstairs," she said, closing the door behind me.

I glanced around. Rustic didn't even begin to describe the place. There was a giant stone fireplace at one end of the single room that served as a living room, dining room, and kitchen, with an open loft area above, behind a sturdy looking railing, that must serve as the bedroom. Everywhere I looked there was polished wood, and the furniture was massive, leather, well worn, and extremely comfortable looking. I couldn't see the bed, but there was clearly only one room up there, and she invited me to it. I smiled as I tromped up the steps. Things were looking good already.

The huge bed was shoved against the back wall of the room with the roof sloping down on each side. To one side was a bathroom, the other a closet, and the room was much warmer than downstairs. I tossed my suitcases on the bed and turned to Michelle.

"Garret Lemay," I said, making a formal introduction.

"Michelle Abbot. Nice to—" I looped my arm around her and started to pull her into a kiss, but she blocked me with a hand in my chest. "Whoa, there, tiger. I need a lot more than your name before you get that."

I released her. "Sorry. I assumed that we'd..."

"We'd what?" she asked, her voice cool, but a ghost of a smile painted her lips.

I shrugged. "A one-bedroom cabin... and you know why we're here as well as I do."

"Then you assumed wrong. I'm sleeping downstairs."

I held her gaze. She was tall for a woman, probably five nine or five ten, with an open, friendly face. Her hair was pulled back into a tidy ponytail that revealed a graceful neck, and she had the most amazing green eyes. Add in lightly tanned, freckled skin, hair almost the exact color of polished copper, and a body that would give a monk a hard-on, she was stunningly beautiful and sexy.

"You didn't want the bed?"

"Since you're paying for this, I figured you should get the bed."

"Fair enough." I held her gaze for a moment longer, trying to get a read from her. Getting nothing, I turned away and began to unpack. "How long have you been here?"

"I arrived yesterday afternoon, late."

"You stayed out here by yourself last night?"

"Yeah, why?"

"You weren't... afraid?"

"Afraid of what?"

I shrugged.

Getting eaten by bears?

"Being alone out here in the middle of nowhere?"

She grinned. "No. Would you be?"

Maybe.

"Of course not, but I'm a guy." Her smile spread, but I could tell I wasn't making a very good first impression.

"Ah... because I'm a woman, I need a big strong man around to protect me?"

"That's not what I meant."

"What did you mean?"

"Nothing. Sorry."

"Uh-huh," she grunted. "We're only fifteen minutes from Lolo, and forty-five from Missoula. I think I can manage a night on my own."

I finished unpacking, saying nothing else while trying to spit the foot out of my mouth. I turned to her when I finished. "Done. Sorry about what I said. I didn't mean anything by it."

She smiled at me, but it was the smile of a mother for a child who had just learned a valuable lesson. "Don't worry about it. I have lunch ready, if you're hungry."

"I could eat something." She looked at me, her bemused expression telling me she'd picked up on my choice of words, and then led me back down the steps. "Why'd you arrive so early?"

"Brooklyn booked me then. You like seven bean soup?"

"Never had it, but it smells good."

She pulled two large heavy bowls from the cabinet and ladled the bowls full of a dense soup, adding a thick slice of bread to the side, and placed the bowls on the heavy wooden table. The soup wasn't my preferred affair. I usually ate a more nouvelle cuisine diet where presentation was as important as the flavors. This gruel would never pass the appearance test, though it was quite tasty.

I began nodding in approval. "This is good."

She smiled, a genuine smile this time. "I'm glad you approve."

"So, Brooklyn didn't tell you why she wanted you to arrive a day early?"

"How do you know she didn't schedule you to arrive a day late?"

I bit back on the sarcastic remark that came to mind. I was paying for this fucking rendezvous, so when I arrived was when the clock started. "Whatever."

"No. She only asked me if I minded getting the cabin opened up and stocked before you arrived. I said sure. I didn't know what you liked to eat, so I kept it simple. We have enough food for a couple of days, but then we can go back into Lolo for more supplies."

I waved my hand. I didn't cook. I didn't have time for that shit. "If this is an example of what you can do, anything you want is fine."

"You expect me to do all the cooking?"

I shrugged. "That, or we're going out. I don't cook."

"Don't or can't?" she asked, that slightly condescending smile playing on her lips again.

I ignored it. I didn't really care what she thought about me. "Does it matter?"

"No, not really. If you can't cook, but would like to learn, I could teach you. If you can cook but don't, that's a different matter."

"Let's say can't and have no desire to learn."

She nodded slowly. "I see. Since I enjoy cooking, I'll take care of that. You can split wood."

"Split wood? Fuck that!"

"You want to stay warm?"

"Are you fucking kidding me?"

She smiled. "Nope. The fireplace is the only heat in the place."

"What the fuck was Brooklyn thinking?" I growled, pulling my phone from my pocket.

We were about to have a change of plans. She looked down, the smile still playing on her lips as she spooned another bite into her mouth. There was no cell signal. I shoved my chair back and walked around the room, my phone held up as I watched for bars. Even next to the windows there was nothing. I trotted upstairs, and like downstairs, there was no hint of a signal. I looked over the railing. She was still sitting at the table, calmly eating.

"Does this fucking place even have running water?"

She looked up at me and smiled. "Yep. It has that new-fangled electricity too."

"But no cell service?"

"No phone or internet either."

"Fuck. It's like being back in the dark ages."

"I think it's wonderful."

"What are you, some kind of luddite?" I asked as I stomped down the steps.

"No, but the idea of getting away from everything for a month sounds perfect to me."

"Was this your idea?"

"No, but she asked me if I'd be willing to give it a try. I love the outdoors, so I told her I'd love to spend a month disconnected."

I threw myself into the chair. "As soon as we're done here, we're going into Lolo. I'm going to call Brooklyn and we're going to get this shit straightened out. I'm not living like this for a month, splitting wood and shitting in the woods with the bears while using a leaf for toilet paper."

She snickered. "Do what you want, but the cabin is rented for a month. I'm staying right here."

"You want to live like this? Then why don't you split the fucking wood?"

"Fine. You can do the cooking."

I glared at her. Her calm indifference was pissing me off. "Yeah, like you can split wood."

"Who do you think split the wood that's burning? There's wood behind the stable, but it's not split."

I glared at her. She wasn't kidding. "Well, even if that's true, I told you, I can't cook."

"Then you'll either learn or starve because I'm damn sure not doing all the chores while you sit on your ass and bitch."

"Or I'll drive back into town."

She shrugged. "Or you can do that, but you'll be going alone because I'm not eating out every night. I wanted to get away, and that doesn't include going to town two or three times a day."

I said nothing else as I ate my soup. She was making me feel like a spoiled, whiny brat. Maybe she liked the idea of chopping wood and humping water up from a stream, but I sure as hell didn't.

After lunch she washed the bowls, dried them, and put them away. She placed the soup aside to cool and then she went outside. I waited a few minutes before I followed. I didn't know where she'd disappeared to.

I walked around the cabin, and not finding her there, I walked to the other building. Like the cabin proper, it was made of logs and beautifully detailed, but it was clearly designed as a stable. As I approached, I heard the first thunk of an axe hitting wood. I rounded the building just as she was swinging the axe again. At her feet were two pieces of wood. She picked one of the pieces up, placed it back on a large flat log that had clearly been cut to serve this purpose. She swung again, the axe cleaving the smaller log into two pieces.

I watched as she picked up the other large piece of wood, muscled it up onto the log, and swung the axe. She hit it twice before splitting the second piece into two. She looked up, held my gaze a moment, before she walked to the wood pile, picked up another log, and carried it to the stump.

"Goddammit, just wait a second," I growled.

She jerked the axe from where she'd stuck it in the log. "Why? I'm staying whether you do or not. If I want to be warm, I need to do this." She swung the axe, hitting the log. It didn't quite split all the way. With a grunt she worked the axe loose and swung again, and then a third time to finish the split. "Go talk to Brooklyn. The keys to the Tahoe are hanging on one of the pegs to the right of the door."

She picked up one of the two pieces, put it back on the stump, and swung again. The second piece was divided just as quickly, she stuck the axe in the stump so the handle would be easy to grab, and turned for another log.