Strike a Match Page 4

  Lucinda merely shrugged, leaning forward to press a lingering kiss to Samantha’s lips. She breathed out slowly. “Just reminding you to enjoy the moment, like we agreed.”

  Samantha nodded, keeping their lips together as she snuggled closer to Lucinda. “Right.”

  “So.” Lucinda kissed her forehead as the next song began. “Obviously, you have something on your mind that needs discussing. Do tell.”

  Samantha pulled back and gave Lucinda a broad smile. Lucinda just got her. It was magical. “Well, I was thinking, don’t you think Abby and Sasha are a good-looking couple?”

  Lucinda’s brow wrinkled in confusion. “Abby? Cardigan, accountant Abby? The one that Shelly was matched to?”

  “That’s the one.” Samantha nodded with excitement. She couldn’t wait for Lucinda to catch on so they could discuss it. “And Sasha…” She tried to hurry this realization along.

  “The firefighter?”

  “Right. Her mother was a dancer remember?” Samantha tried to jog Lucinda’s memory.

  “Ah, yes. The Russian ballerina. How could I forget? What about her?”

  “Well, I think she’d be a good match for Abby.”

  “Sasha’s mother? Don’t you think she’s a little old for Abby? Plus, I think she’s married. And straight.”

  “What? No.” Samantha huffed when she realized Lucinda was teasing her. “Ugh. You—”

  “Are the most loving and caring wife, ever?” Lucinda supplied as she turned them.

  “Yeah, that.” Samantha rolled her eyes and laughed. “Anyway, look over at the main bar.” Samantha turned them again, so Lucinda had a clear sight toward the bar.

  “Okay, wow, that bartender is tall,” Lucinda marveled.

  Samantha turned to look and sighed. “That’s Shaun. He’s the primary intoxicologist. I’m talking about the people at the bar, Luce, focus.”

  “Andrew and Ben? They are awfully cute together.”

  “Lucy,” Samantha whined. “The women at the bar, next to them.”

  Lucinda pretended to squint and gave Samantha a dramatic, playful nod. “Oh, you mean Abby talking to Sasha. Abby looks great—green is a good color on her. That’s a nice upgrade from the cardigan.”

  “Finally.” Samantha turned them so they both had an unobstructed view. “See how Abby touched Sasha’s arm just then. She’s flirting. This is good.”

  “Why is that good?” Lucinda paused. “I mean, I know why that’s good, but more specifically, why is that good at this exact moment in time, such that you feel the need to discuss it during our wedding reception?”

  “It’s good because I haven’t been able to find either of them a match since Shelly and Claire got together. And earlier I saw Sasha looking a little sad as she watched them dance.”

  Lucinda leaned back and cast a suspicious glance toward Samantha. “You’re watching the guests watching the other guests? Samantha, I thought we agreed you wouldn’t work at our wedding.”

  “I can’t help that I’m naturally observant, Luce.” Samantha shrugged. “It’s a gift.”

  “Mm-hmm.” Lucinda laughed. “Okay, let’s say I humor you and agree that they would be an attractive couple, because, undoubtedly, they are each beautiful and smart and funny.”

  “Yes?” Samantha loved when Lucinda entertained her wild matchmaking mania.

  “But what do they even have in common?”

  “Shelly.” Samantha replied as though it was as clear as day.

  “Who is with Claire,” Lucinda added.

  “Right. But that’s what they have in common. Shelly. They were both supposed to be matched to Shelly. Clearly, Shelly was better suited to be with Claire. But what if Sasha and Abby are actually a match for each other? I mean, I think it’s kind of genius.”

  “It’s kind of something, that’s for sure.” Lucinda teased her and twirled her on the dance floor.

  “Rude.” Samantha shook her head and pointed back toward the bar. “I’m just saying, I think it’s something to consider.”

  Lucinda’s gaze followed her gesture and she frowned. “Maybe. But if the way Shaun the giant is laughing and Sasha is blushing while Abby walks away is any indication at all, you may have missed the mark on that one.”

  Samantha watched Abby roll her eyes as she walked past them, sitting at the table with her mother, Edie, in a huff. “Crap.”

  “Okay, let’s make a deal.” Lucinda slowed their movements and cupped her jaw, directing her attention to Lucinda’s face. “When we get back, after we thoroughly enjoy ourselves and have really embraced the awesomeness of married life, I promise to entertain your theory on Abby and Sasha. But after we get back. Fair?”

  Samantha let herself get lost in the blue eyes looking back at her with adoration. She was so looking forward to their time together—this wedding had been a dream to plan because, in truth, her match to Lucinda was a dream come true. But Lucinda was right, like always—this moment was about them. Not about Abby or Sasha or Perfect Match, Inc. “Fair.”

  “Good. Let’s grab a snack before the toasts. Too much champagne on an empty stomach makes you frisky, and I’m just as eager as you are to start the honeymoon, but maybe not in front of Marisol.”

  Samantha laughed. “Party pooper.” As Lucinda led her off the floor toward their sweetheart table, she glanced back at Sasha just in time to see Sasha watching Abby sip her water a few tables away. She was on to something; she could feel it in her bones.

  Chapter Five

  “All the lobster bisque shooters went out. The general opinion was a home run.” Elise high-fived her sous-chef. “Salads are being circulated and a confirmation on the plated dinners has been completed. We are cruisin’!”

  It never ceased to amaze Sasha how the behind the scenes chaos of the kitchen never seemed to effect Elise. She was cool as a cuke all the time, no matter the circumstance. Especially considering Casey called her back here to help clean up the entire vat of spilled lobster bisque. It was unbelievable how quickly a new batch was whipped up on the spot, like the entire dish hadn’t been ruined. It was a little freaky.

  “How are those fruit stars going?” Sasha asked over Casey’s shoulder. He’d been relegated to the fruit sculpting once the first course went out.

  “Fine. These things are harder to cut than you’d think.” He held up a bandaged thumb. “I’ve changed that dressing twice.”

  “Good thing you’re trained in first aid, Lieutenant.” She reached past him and picked up a butchered orange slice, slipping it into her mouth and savoring the sweetness. “I’ll help with the fallen soldiers.”

  “You’re a peach.” Casey returned his attention to the slippery fruit in front of him.

  “An orange, actually, but who’s counting?” Sasha grabbed another slice and headed toward the floor.

  “Hey, Sash?” Elise’s voice halted her progress.

  “What’s shakin’, Chef?” Sasha looked in the reflective surface of a huge walk-in freezer and adjusted her ponytail, paying close attention to the way her layered hair fell across her shoulders. She had every intention of popping by Abby’s table later and trying to save face from their conversation earlier. She could redeem herself, for sure, but if her hair was perfect, that would only help the cause.

  “There’s a food allergy at table twenty-four. I think that’s near the bride’s family’s table. Can you double-check on the stain issue and bring the plate out personally? I don’t need anyone going into anaphylaxis out there.”

  “Sure thing, Chef-y.” Sasha reached for the dish but Elise pulled it away at the last second.

  “Shaun told Casey that you totally screwed up a come-on. True?”

  “That guy’s got a huge mouth to match his huge head.” Sasha pouted and frowned. “It wasn’t that bad.”

  “Okay, whatever you say.” Elise shrugged and pointed toward Sasha’s mouth. “Your lip gloss wore off. Try this, maybe it’ll help.” Elise reached into her pocket and tossed a dark red lipstick in her gen
eral direction.

  Sasha reached for it, nearly knocking one of the simmering pans from the stovetop. She juggled it twice before catching it just as it was about to land in the green substance bubbling in front of her.

  “Jesus, Sasha. You’re nearly as bad as Burger. Don’t make me have to put you in the coat room, too.” Casey stood behind her with a plate of nearly perfect fruit stars. “Drop these off with Shaun on your way to the allergy table.”

  Sasha’s heart was in her throat after the circus maneuvers she’d had to do to keep the lipstick from ruining Elise’s food. She glared at them both as they began laughing before she turned to leave once again.

  “Sasha—don’t forget about the lipstick,” Elise called with a wink.

  “Fine.” Sasha put down the two dishes and walked back to the refrigerator, applying the dark color carefully and evenly along her full lips. She smiled as her mother’s Russian heritage was reflected back at her, her dark hair and dark eyes some of her best assets. She usually used a lighter lip color to offset her features, but Elise was right, if she had any hopes of salvaging her interaction with Abby, she’d have to pull out all the stops. And her childhood on the pageant circuit had proved that the combo of dark red lips on her pale, smooth complexion was a definite showstopper. She turned back toward Elise. “How do I look?”

  Elise looked up from the pan she was tending to and nodded. “Like the lady-killer you are. Go get ’em, tiger.”

  Casey catcalled as she stepped out into the reception area, fruit stars and allergy plate in hand.

  *****

  “So, you two looked cozy,” Edie said between delicate bites of the salad that she cut the moment it arrived at the table. Her mother was always following those charm school rules.

  “Me and who?” Abby knew what her mother was getting at, but she wasn’t going to make it that easy. She poked at the crouton, feigning interest.

  “You and the tall, dark brunette.” Edie smiled to herself and nodded her head, “I noticed you two talking. She’s stunning.”

  “You saw what you wanted to.” Abby reached for her water glass and took a sip.

  “So, what’s her name?” Edie tried again, Abby realized that her mother’s interest wasn’t a passing one—she was doomed. Better she cut this one off at the pass, otherwise the rest of her night was going to be ruined.

  “Sasha.”

  “That’s a great name, strong.” Edie nodded to herself as she chewed. “What does she do?”

  “Womanize.” Abby hadn’t meant to say that out loud. She looked up at her mother anxiously, hoping she’d missed it.

  Edie stopped midbite, the fork paused in front of her lips. Nope. She definitely didn’t miss that. “That came up in conversation at the bar? You were there for about fifteen minutes.”

  Abby felt bad. It wasn’t that she didn’t believe what she’d said. It’s just that she hadn’t meant to give it any credit. She knew it was deeply rooted in her own insecurities. Well, that and she had seen how Sasha was with the other women at the mixers. She was a clear and blatant flirt. “I know her. We’ve met before. She was a client of Samantha’s—ironically, she was matched to Shelly as well. So I was at a couple of mixers with her.”

  Edie’s eyebrows rose at this new information. “She’s a client of Samantha’s? Does she own the catering company?”

  “What? No, I don’t think so. I think she’s just working the event.” Abby didn’t understand her mother’s thought processes sometimes. She had just told her she felt like Sasha was a womanizer and yet her mother was more concerned about what she did for work.

  “Oh.” Edie looked disappointed. “She’s a professional waitress?”

  “No. I don’t know. Maybe. What does that matter?” Abby chased a tomato around her plate.

  “It doesn’t, I guess.” Edie sipped her champagne flute. “Why is she a womanizer?”

  And they were full circle. “Uh, I guess I don’t know that she is. It’s just, she’s very flirtatious and outgoing. The other women at the mixers were always talking about her and oohing and aahing her, you know? Like she was some magical hot unicorn.” When her mother didn’t reply she looked up at her again. Edie was smiling. “What?”

  “You called her a magical hot unicorn.” Edie pointed her fork in Abby’s direction. “You think she’s attractive.”

  “Of course I think she’s attractive—I have eyes.” Abby bristled. “I mean, she’s tall and has those perfect cheekbones and looks surprisingly good in that tuxedo suit thingy. Like it’s kind of a crime. They’re meant to be unisex. But she’s clearly very much in the sexy female department.” Abby stopped, she was rambling. Shit.

  “Oh no, don’t let me stop you. Go on, please.” Edie’s hands were folded neatly in front of her, her rapt attention directed at Abby. “Tell me more.”

  Abby sighed. “There isn’t any more to tell. That’s it.”

  “So Sasha is attractive and flirty and looks good in her nondescript waiter outfit and you’re mad about it because you noticed.”

  “Right.” Abby paused. “Wait, that’s not what I—” She took a breath. “I’m mad because she called me gorgeous and in the same breath told me I was too attractive to be an accountant. As if one thing has anything to do with the other.”

  “She used the word gorgeous?” Edie leaned closer, her excitement palpable.

  “Yes. So not the point though.” Abby tried to redirect. “The point is—”

  “Excuse me, Abby and Madame Stain Saver.” Sasha appeared behind her mother, interrupting them. “I’ve been sent by the kitchen to bring a special plate for a guest with a shellfish allergy. Is there any chance it’s one of you lovely ladies?”

  “Oh, that’s me, dear.” Edie moved her salad plate aside for Sasha to place the new plate in front of her. “You can call me Edie. How’s our friend with the stain?”

  “I just checked in with her, and she’s enjoying another glass of red wine, sans stain. All seems well. You’re a lifesaver.” Sasha playfully wiped her brow and Edie laughed. Abby hoped she was invisible.

  “That’s an overstatement. I was just in the right place at the right time.” Edie gestured with her hand in Abby’s direction. Abby swallowed thickly. “Have you met my—”

  “Coworker,” Abby supplied when Sasha looked in her direction. “We, uh, work together at the nonprofit.”

  Edie gave Abby an admonishing look and Abby hoped Sasha didn’t notice. It was sort of true. Sort of. Kinda. A little.

  “We’ve met. Abby tells me she’s an accountant. Are you as well?” Sasha’s smile was genuine. Abby’s attention was drawn to the deep red lip color she had on. She didn’t remember that from before. It was hypnotizing.

  “I’m more of the philanthropic type,” Edie responded diplomatically and Abby was relieved. Or would have been relieved if she could force herself to stop staring at Sasha’s lips.

  She became aware of both sets of eyes on her. “I’m sorry, did you say something?”

  Edie raised her eyebrow and leaned back, sipping her champagne, looking amused.

  Sasha spoke first. “I asked if you’d like to dance later. I was hoping to make up for my verbal misstep before.”

  Abby was so shocked by the directness of the comment that she didn’t reply right away. To Sasha’s credit, she didn’t look shy or backtrack; she merely maintained eye contact and waited. The forwardness of it all was a little hot. “Uh, sure.”

  “I think she means to say she’d be delighted,” Edie added with a playful slap to Abby’s hand.

  Sasha’s red lips curled into a warm smile. “Great. I’m looking forward to it.”

  A young waiter arrived behind Sasha, balancing a tray of entrees for the remaining guests at the table. Sasha introduced Jonah and helped him unload. Before she stepped away she leaned over Abby’s shoulder and whispered, “I meant what I said before I stuck my foot in my mouth. I really do think you’re gorgeous. Enjoy your meal.”

  Abby watched Sasha w
alk away, still in disbelief at what had transpired. She reached for her champagne flute, nearly knocking it over.

  “You ought to pay attention to where you put those hands, Abigail.” Edie looked smitten.

  Abby bit her lip and tried to focus. Sasha had definitely asked her to dance, apologized, and called her gorgeous in the span of a few minutes. She couldn’t remember the last time something like that had happened to her. If ever.

  “I like her. She’s brazen. And beautiful. That red lipstick looks great on her.” Edie bobbed her head side to side as she hummed to herself. After a moment, she paused. “Why didn’t you want her to know that you’re my daughter?”

  “I’m not sure.” That was true—it was reflexive. She wasn’t ashamed to be her mother’s guest at the wedding. But then again, she wasn’t exactly advertising that either. No, it was something Sasha had said earlier—the necklace comment. It had made her a little embarrassed. The choker Edie wore tonight was definitively glamorous, but it was nowhere near her nicest or most expensive piece. “I guess I just wanted to—”

  “Make your own way. A little mystery is a good thing at the beginning of a relationship. It keeps the passion burning hot.”

  “I don’t think we’re at the relationship phase, Mom. We just met. Well, sort of.” She rolled her eyes and turned her attention to the gourmet entrée in front of her.

  “But you like her. So it’s only a matter of time.” Edie was confident, too confident for Abby’s liking.

  “We’ll see.”

  “What do you have to lose? An island of feral cats and the Beaches soundtrack on loop?” Edie nudged her with her elbow and tapped her nose.

  “Nothing I guess.” Abby sighed. As much as she hated to admit it, her mother was right. She had nothing to lose.

  *****

  Abby distractedly stirred the cappuccino in front of her as she watched Sasha handle the shaker behind the main bar. She’d had a hard time ignoring Sasha after she’d dropped her mother’s plate off at the table and whispered in her ear. In fact, she’d found herself watching her for most of the night. Much to her mother’s enjoyment. That woman missed nothing. Not. A. Thing.