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“I have two restaurants on Mass Ave. Rent here is not cheap.”
She tilts her head. “Very impressive, Cole. And you’re right. But when you’ve been helping people find love for as long as I have been, you make friends. The old owner of this building was a client long ago. I bought the building last year.”
I let out an impressed whistle right as the elevator arrives on the third floor. She’s loaded if she owns this whole building. “So do you own the café, and did I spy some office space as well?”
“You did. It’s a term called co-working, and I don’t understand it, but it’s quite popular. And no, I don’t own the café. I rent the first floor space out. I hired a company to manage that for me. I’m not really a businesswoman, you see. Love is my passion.” Following her down the hall, I see mostly open concept work space. The workspaces are large and each employee has a lot of space to work. The external walls are occupied with offices and a large conference room. The open layout of the space makes it easy to take in the whole third floor.
I admit I’m not paying attention to where we are headed when I come to a halt behind Ruth, thankfully not bumping into her.
“Oh, Cassie, you’ve got to meet Cole. He’s Dorthy’s grandson.” Ruth motions to a beautiful woman who looks as if she just came out of an office.
She looks oddly familiar as I reach out my hand to her.
“Cole Reed.”
Her answering smile is wide as she shakes my hand. Her eyes narrow, though. Maybe we know each other. “Cassie Winters. Your name sounds familiar.”
I chuckle. “You look familiar.”
Ruth clucks her tongue. “Cole, you attended IU, yes? So did Cassie and my granddaughter.”
Recognition barrels into me like a Mac truck. My eyes widen as I look at Ruth. “Is Layla James your granddaughter?”
Her face lights up in delight. “Well, of course she is.”
“Which is why your name sounds familiar. You and Layla were friends. Damn. She’s going to be thrilled to see you again,” Cassie says, her eyes sparkling.
Fuck me. Layla James. I haven’t thought of her in ages. She was sexy as hell back in college and I tried like mad to get her into my bed. But I had met her when she was seeing someone and since I wasn’t about to let her slip through my fingers, I befriended her anyway. Fuck if she didn’t friend-zone me in the end. Things just never happened between us the way I had hoped.
“Well, isn’t this such a small world,” Ruth says. Her lips purse together in thought and her eyes twinkle with a hint of something that has me mildly concerned.
“This is wild for sure,” I agree.
“Well, it was good to finally meet you, Cole. Maybe I’ll see you around. Make sure you find Layla before you leave.” Cassie grins and pats my arm as she walks past us in the direction we just came.
“Common, dear, let’s chat in my office.” Ruth tips her head toward some doors a bit farther down the hall. I follow her but casually zero in on the people, mostly women milling around, in hopes of seeing Layla.
I wonder if she’s married. Surely a woman like her has settled down by now. Shit, I bet she’s still hot as hell, too. Maybe coming here today wasn’t a good idea.
Unable to find her, I join Ruth in her office and take a seat at one of the chairs facing her desk.
“I’m not one to beat around the bush, darling. Let’s get to the point. Dorthy says you are in dire need of my help. I’d like to be your matchmaker.” She intertwines her fingers and rests them before her on her desk.
I sputter at that. My head is still foggy with memories of Layla James and I was not expecting my grandmother to throw me under the bus. “Uh, well, I wouldn’t say I’m in dire need. I haven’t had a serious relationship in a while, but I don’t know that I’m ready to settle down.”
“But you do want to settle down? Start a family? My dearest friend informs me that is the end goal,” she adds and I can’t help but feel I’m being interviewed for a job I didn’t apply for.
“Your dearest friend clearly has her own goals,” I retort, scrubbing a hand across my jaw.
Ruth’s stare bores into me and it takes everything in me not to squirm under her attention.
“So you’re fixie’ to be single for the rest of your life?”
“No, ma’am, I would like to get married, have some kids… someday,” I tell her carefully. Why do I feel like I’m in trouble?
“Are you telling me that if the perfect woman, the one God made just for you, walked in that door right now, you wouldn’t drop your bachelor status within seconds, you’re single, carefree hookups a thing of the past?” Her brow is raised, challenging me to disagree with her. But I can’t.
I swallow hard. “You’re right, Mrs. James. If the woman of my dreams walked through those doors, I’d be ready.”
