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Hard to form the thoughts. Hard to get the words out.Hard.
Maybe the reason I’ve made myself not care about winning is that deep down, I’m afraid of losing.
What if I fight for Gemma, and I lose?
I push my cereal bowl away and clear my throat. The pendant counter lights twinkle, and out through the picture window, night’s falling fast. “Carly, look. I need your help. I need to make a plan. What should I do to get her back?”
It feels so strange to ask my little sister for help. My family doesn’t get me, and I don’t expect them to. I’ve used that as a reason to distance myself, but maybe that’s not serving any of us.
It’s like Gemma said, that first night she was here. Everyone needs a little help. I’m no exception.
People always call me stubborn, and maybe there’s a reason for that. It’s time for me to change some of my ways.
“Wow,” Carly says, clearly stunned. “This is new. You, asking me for help? Who are you and what have you done with my brother?”
“Hey, if you could not gloat, that’d be awesome.”
“Fine. I won’t gloat too much right now, mostly because we don’t have time. First of all, you didn’t lose her. You just don’thaveher, yet.”
“I did lose her, though. She drove out of here this afternoon… to deal with her past.”
“Yeah, and she did deal with it. Tell me you’re watching the Nikko show.”
“Hunh?”
“The Nikko Show? He-llooo….? The show Gemma’s being interviewed on, as we speak? Get a clue, Parker!”
“Right… Nikko.” Now I know why that name is familiar. “She did say something about an interview with that guy. I thought it was tomorrow.”
“That guy?He’s the face of our generation, notthat guy. And her interview with him got bumped up apparently because it’s playing on my laptop right now. Look, love’s important to Gemma. She takes relationships seriously, and they mean a lot to her. Her career’s based on love—you know that, right? She’s an expert. She cares so much about that matchmaking company of hers. She’s lived and breathed it for years now, and it’s her baby.”
She goes on, but I stop listening. A plan—vague and cloudy—is starting to form in my mind.
Two seconds later, I hang up on my little sister, mid-sentence.
I fumble with pulling up the internet and findingThe Nikko Show. All my time on tennis courts, on mountain trails, and behind the bar has not made me a tech wiz, that’s for sure. When I manage to find the show’s current live broadcast, my heart hammers.
There’s Gemma.
She looks flustered. Annoyed. And gorgeous.
Her eyes burn bright, and she keeps looking toward the parking lot on her right, like she’s anxious to get there.
Nikko’s standing in her way, though, and sticking a microphone in her face. “Wow, Gemma, this is big news. Really big. Here we are, thinking you’re about to say yes to the guy, and you dump him and tell us that you’re moving on. Way to go, girl. Tell us, how does one of the globe’s leading experts on dating and marriage actually move on?”
Gemma pushes back a flyaway strand of hair. “Um… I’m actually trying a new thing, where I keep my private life a little more private.”
“Hey, good for you. But at least give us a little hint, hm? You’re brilliant, and a lot of us out here are clueless when it comes to dating. So, come on, a hint. Will you use psych profiling and all that jazz, or are you gonna just get out there, hit some bars, and see who you bump into?”
That actually gets a laugh out of Gemma.
She’s so pretty, when she laughs.
She shakes her head. “I’m definitely not going the ‘throw spaghetti at the wall, see what sticks’ method. People used to have to do that, but not any more.”
“So, Right Match, then? You’re gonna find yourself a match?”
“All I can say is that the process my team and I came up with is important and worthwhile. Right Match can save people a lot of heartache and trial and error. I believe that’s very valuable to all of us, myself included.” Her eyes dart toward the parking lot again.
