Dear Lonely Heart (The Matchmaker Series)

  Dear Lonely Heart

  The Matchmaker Series

  Fiona Starr

  Sexy Starr Stories

  Copyright © 2019 by Fiona Starr

  All rights reserved.

  No part of this book may be reproduced in any form or by any electronic or mechanical means, including information storage and retrieval systems, without written permission from the author, except for the use of brief quotations in a book review.

  Created with Vellum

  For all you lonely hearts out there…

  Never lose hope.

  Contents

  Chapter 1

  Chapter 2

  Chapter 3

  Chapter 4

  Chapter 5

  Chapter 6

  Chapter 7

  Chapter 8

  Chapter 9

  Chapter 10

  Chapter 11

  Chapter 12

  Chapter 13

  Chapter 14

  Epilogue

  The Matchmaker Series:

  Welcome to Blaze Mountain

  Thanks for reading!

  CLAIRE

  “Hello? Anybody home?” My cousin and business partner, Laura’s voice rings through the empty shop.

  “Back here!” I call out as I lift a tray of orange-cranberry scones from the oven and place them on the cooling rack. The Perky Cup II won’t open for another forty minutes and I’m grateful for this time Laura and I make to visit each morning and check in before the day gets away from us.

  She steps through the swinging door into the kitchen and hangs her bag and coat on the hook. “Mmm. Smells amazing!”

  I sprinkle coarse sugar crystals over the top of the scones and then transfer two scones onto plates for each of us. “Here you go! On the house.”

  She turns her plate like a dial until the scone is facing her, then she smiles. “Aw, you made them heart-shaped. Claire, that’s so cute!”

  I smile at the compliment as I place a bowl of clotted cream on the table between us. “Valentine’s Day is coming. I wanted to do something to warm things up around here.”

  “I am glad you said that,” Laura says as she hops off her chair and digs through the gigantic tote bag she calls a purse. “… because … I have something for you—for us, actually. Just in time for Valentine’s Day. I want us to do it together.” She comes back to the table with a large manilla envelope.

  Her tone raises alarm bells in my head. “What are you up to?” I don’t hide my apprehension.

  “Don’t worry. This is a good thing. Something we both need.” She opens the flap on the envelope and takes out two paper packets. She slides one across the table in my direction.

  I pull it to me, unsure what to expect. It’s about ten pages with a cover letter on the top. I read the cover page. “What the Heart Wants Matchmaking Service?” Flipping through the rest of the packet, I see it is a questionnaire, and a lengthy one at that. “A dating service? Are you kidding me?”

  “It’s not what you think. This is different. It’s such a cool company, Claire.”

  I break off a piece of my scone and pop it into my mouth. It’s warm and the sugary edges are caramelized and crunchy. Perfect. “No, Laura… I have zero interest in online dating again. That was such a disaster and so much pressure.”

  She raises her hands in surrender. “I know. Trust me. I know. The online thing was horrible for us both. But this is different. There are no computers involved at all.”

  “They don’t have a website?” Now I’m dubious.

  “Of course they have a website. What I mean is they don’t match you using a computer. The owner is an older woman named Grace Graham. She’s spent her life as a matchmaker. She reads through your questionnaire and your introduction letter and matches you with someone—by hand. Then you write letters back and forth. You send your letters to the service and they hand-deliver them to your match.”

  “Wow. That sounds super efficient.” I arch an eyebrow at her. “What’s the catch?”

  “No catch. The whole point is to take things back a notch. Slow it all down. Give everyone a chance to get to know each other a little through letters before you meet. Hand-written letters, Claire! Isn’t it romantic? Lord knows we both could use a little romance in our lives.”

  I look away and she senses the shift in my attention.

  “Oh. Claire. God, I am so sorry. I didn’t mean anything by it. I…” She reaches across the table and places her hand on my arm. “I am sorry. But it’s been three years and I love you and you deserve to be happy. It’s what he would want for you, too.”

  She’s right. David wouldn’t be happy to know that I’ve been alone all this time since he died. After his car accident, it felt like my life got so complicated, so tense. Losing him broke my heart. We had plans to do so much together. To start a family… The thought of putting myself back out there again and starting over feels like an overwhelming waste of time. What if I do put myself out there? What if I fall in love again and something happens to him? How could I go on?

  I hear David’s voice in my mind, the way he nudged at me whenever my fear of change and new things emerged. “Aw, come on, Bear. Very few things actually result in death. Give it a go.”

  His words from my memory make me smile. I wonder if he’d find it ironic that he’s coaching me from the great beyond about how most things won’t kill me. But the bottom line is Laura’s right. He would want me to find someone new, start over.

  I tap her hand. “No, no. It’s fine. I’m good. Don’t worry. And you’re right. David would be disappointed in me if he knew I was so afraid to get out there again.” I lift the packet and give it another look.

  The cover page is written in calligraphy, black ink on gorgeous cream paper. It looks like a work of art. A golden GG monogram at the top makes it look like a personal letter from Grace Graham, Matchmaker. It reads:

  Dear Single Friend,

  Are you looking for a mate? Someone to share your life with? Are you wary of algorithms and computer programs reducing you to data points in order to pair you with someone who may or may not be a good fit? Are you perhaps tired of the dating scene and eager to try something new?

  What about something old?

  I am Grace Graham and I personally invite you to consider joining What the Heart Wants, a Matchmaking Service that’s been making successful matches for over twenty-five years. We value the personal touch and we understand the importance of real communication between partners. We don’t use computers to pair you with your perfect match; we use time-tested human contemplation and an eye for those things that will light a spark between potential mates.

  If you’re interested in learning more about our service, please turn the page for additional information.

  I turn the page and read about how Grace Graham does the matching herself for every pair, and how letter writing allows for insight into the other person that instant email and chatting online does not, how starting the process off anonymously is the gateway to honest openness in sharing to ascertain true compatibility.

  I look up at Laura and she’s watching me, wide eyed. “Well?”

  “Well?” I mimic her. A service like this can’t be cheap. “What’s it cost?”

  “I’m taking care of that. A gift from me to both of us. All you have to do is say yes.”

  I feel my hands clam up and a bead of sweat run an icy line down my side—a sure sign that fear is holding me in its grip. David would shake his head and then hug me and push me off the edge.

  I sigh. “Fine. I’ll do it if you do. And you’re not paying for me, I forbid it.”

  “Absolutely not. This one is on me. I r
eally want to do this for you. Besides, it’s rude to refuse a gift.” She slathers clotted cream on her scone and takes a bite. “Let’s fill everything out tonight. We’ll mail them in tomorrow.”

  “All right,” I say, clearing my plate and taking the cooled scones out to the bakery case in the front of the shop. It’s almost opening time.

  “It will be romantic!” Laura calls from the back, her voice muffled through the door.

  I don’t know how romantic writing letters is going to be, but I’d be lying if I said I wasn’t a little excited to find out.

  THOMAS

  I should know better than to accept invitations for dinner at my sister’s house out of the blue. I see her and her family a lot and we just did Christmas together with everyone, so when she texted me yesterday to join them tonight, I should have sensed she was up to something.

  She’s always interfering in my love life, setting me up with her single friends and friends of friends. After the last several blind dates went crash-and-burn bad, I figured she’d given up. So when she hands me the matchmaker packet after dinner, I think it’s a joke.

  “Thank’s a lot, Beth. What are you trying to say? You’re giving up? I’m a lost cause?”

  “Not at all. I’m the one who failed. Finding you a girlfriend is a quest beyond even my exceptional skills. It’s time to bring in the professionals.” She comes over to me and leans her chin on my shoulder as I read the cover letter on the packet. “The matchmaker is legit. Kelly’s sister Juliette met her match through this service and they are getting married this summer. And Dr. Will is in the middle of a three month European honeymoon with his match. I’m telling you—the matchmaker may be your last hope.”

  “Uncle Tommy’s getting a girlfriend!” My five-year-old nephew, Henry, says in a sing-song voice. Then he turns and makes air kisses at his sister.

  My niece, Olivia, is seven going on twenty. She shoves him back and slams her hands onto her hips. “Don’t make fun, Henry. You’re so stupid, you’ll be lucky if anyone wants to marry you!” She juts her chin at him and storms over to stand by my side. “I think it’s romantic, Uncle Tommy. I hope you find your one and only true love.”

  “Thanks, sweetie,” I say, eyeing them all. “I get the feeling this is a group effort.”

  “Come on, Tom. It will be fun, and I promise, the matchmaker is the real deal.”

  “She speaks the truth.” My brother-in-law rinses a plate and places it in the dishwasher. “I spoke to Will last week. They’re in Madrid. He’s never been happier.”

  By the end of the evening, I’ve given Olivia my word that I’ll fill out the forms and send everything in tomorrow.

  I get home and sit down with the matchmaker paperwork and I’m surprised by the length of the questionnaire. But once I get everything filled out I read the last question and I’m not sure how to proceed.

  Now that you’ve completed the questionnaire, please prepare a hand-written introduction letter which will be sent to your match. Do not include your real name or any identifiable information in your introduction. This letter will be read by the Matchmaker in order to complete the assessment process.

  Once your questionnaire and your letter are assessed, a pen name will be assigned to you. You and your match will use your pen names in your correspondence from that point on. Best of luck and remember, be yourself.

  A hand-written letter? I lean back in my chair and stretch my arms over my head. I haven’t written any letters by hand since… I don’t even know when. Well, there’s no turning back now; I gave Olivia my word. The truth is, part of me really wants this to work, and anyway, I have nothing to lose.

  CLAIRE

  I’m in the midst of an afternoon rush when a bike messenger comes to the counter with an envelope for me. At first I think it’s tax papers or something official from the city, but when I look at the return address, the circular gold heart logo on the envelope makes my stomach flip. I sign his ledger and watch him leave, expecting him to turn around and tell me something to ease my nerves. But he nods his thanks and takes off, his attention already on the next address on his list.

  I stare at the envelope in my hand.

  It’s here. My first letter. I run my hand over the gold foil of the return address label and wonder who I’ve been matched with. How does someone who has never met me know who I will be most compatible with? How does a ten-page questionnaire measure chemistry? What if I don’t like him? I run through the gamut of thoughts and finally land on one that makes my mouth go dry. What if I do?

  “Excuse me? I’m ready to order,” a female voice says. The customer I’ve kept waiting at the counter smiles.

  “Oh. I’m sorry. I…” I stop and take a deep breath, placing the envelope on the back counter. Then I smile and force myself to focus my attention on the growing line of customers. “Thanks for waiting. What can I make for you?”

  It takes an eternity for closing time to arrive. When it does, I flip the open sign to closed, lock the door, and hurry to the back of the shop. Laura’s waiting for me at the table, the two envelopes laid out like place mats in front of our seats.

  “I am so nervous!” she says.

  “I haven’t been able to think of anything else. Messed up half the orders this afternoon.” I slide into my chair and stare at my envelope.

  “Well, no time like the present.” She lifts her envelope and flips it over, eyeing the old-fashioned seal over the flap. “Like a bandage, right? Just rip it off.” She waits for me.

  I pick up my envelope. “Like a bandage.” I agree. “No. Wait.” I put the envelope back on the table and push it away. “What if it doesn’t work? What if my match is wrong?”

  “What if he’s right?”

  I’m afraid of that too.

  She eases my envelope back in my direction, positioning it in front of me gently, lining the edge up with the table. “We’ll open them together, all right? On the count of three.”

  I pick up the envelope again and blow out my breath. “On three.”

  Laura smiles. “One… Two… Three!”

  THOMAS

  I give the messenger five bucks for a tip and nod at the security guard in the lobby. “Thanks, Milton.” My voice sounds funny, constricted.

  I try to act cool as I wait for the elevator to arrive. It’s no big deal, just a messenger delivering important papers for me. Milton doesn’t suspect anything. He can’t tell my palms have gone clammy and I can’t swallow.

  “You have a good night, Mr. Stone,” he says with a nod.

  The elevator doors open and I step inside and watch the digital floor display, waiting for the numbers to change. It takes a moment for me to realize the doors are still open and I haven’t pressed the button for my floor. I lean forward and press six and pretend Milton isn’t smiling at my nervousness.

  Inside my apartment, I place the envelope on the coffee table next to my beer and sit on the couch next to Animal, my reddish, golden mish-mash mutt that looks like the wooly muppet. I think a part of me figured it would take longer to be matched with someone. Like months, or maybe a year. But it’s only been about a week and here she is… Grace Graham has found me someone.

  I tear the envelope open and pull out the contents. It’s a single sheet of paper from Grace Graham, a sheet of pre-printed labels addressed to Simple Life care of Grace Graham’s office, and another, smaller, letter-sized envelope.

  Dear Lonely Heart,

  Thank you for taking the time to complete your questionnaire and send in your introduction letter. After careful review of your file, I have paired you up with your potential match, whose pen name is Simple Life. You’ll notice I’ve assigned you a pen name, too. Please use this on all of your future letters. Also enclosed is a sheet of pre-printed labels for you to use when sending letters to your potential match.

  Take your time and get to know your match, and remember the most important rule of all: Be yourself.

  With my best wishes for a good match,

/>   Grace

  The smaller envelope with the letter inside is tied with a red ribbon fastened with a wax seal. The initials GG press into the seal revealing glitter in the dark red wax. I pull the ribbon to break the seal and remove the letter. When I unfold it, I realize I have been holding my breath.

  Her handwriting is smooth and neat, feminine without being too flowery. The ink is blue. Her letter is written on cream colored plain stationery and I suddenly feel self-conscious; my letter was written on white copy paper—I didn’t even think about it.

  Oh well, apparently my choice of paper didn’t prevent me being matched up with someone. Simple Life… I wonder how the Matchmaker decided on that one. Curious now, I sit back and read her letter.

  Dear Potential Match,

  How odd to be writing a letter to someone I don’t know. Even more strange is that I have to write about myself without being able to tell you my name or anything that will give me away.

  My cousin urged me to sign up for Grace’s matchmaker service. At first I wasn’t sure about doing this, but now that I’ve filled out my questionnaire I find that I’m eager to write to you. I’ve been single for some time now, and according to my cousin, it’s time to give dating another chance. It’s so hard to meet people, don’t you think? I wonder, what brought you to sign up with the matchmaker?

  I guess I’ll start with the basics. I live in St. Louis, though I grew up in Colorado, and my family is still there. I am an entrepreneur, and have owned my own business for almost five years now. I was married when we moved here with his job. Three years ago, he was killed in a car accident. Sorry to lay that on you like that. It’s a lot to know about a person you haven’t even met yet, right? But, we’re supposed to be honest and open, and it’s a big part of my story, so I hope it’s good to just get it right out there.