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Never fall in love with a client.
One of the cardinal rules of matchmaking that I was positive I'd never break.
That is until Nathan Wilder walked into Love Moore Matchmaking Agency, needing my help to find him the one.
A tall order to ask since he was the most hated man in the NHL.
Broody. Crude. Abrasive.
The man was a six-foot-three walking red flag.
Right off the bat, every fiber of my being told me he'd be trouble.
He wasn't looking for love.
It was all a PR stunt to clean up his image so he could keep playing for the Boston Guardians.
But there was something in his sad, soulful eyes that just pulled me in, forcing me to agree to this whole charade.
Little did I know that in my quest to find him love, I'd be the one falling head over heels for him.
Not exactly very professional.
Argh.
I’m so screwed.
How am I supposed to find Nate his perfect match when I want him to be mine?
