Failure to Match: An Enemies to Lovers Billionaire Matchmaker Romance

It spilled out of me like a kettle on high heat.

I told her how he’d earned the nickname. How many hearts he’d ruthlessly stomped on to be dubbed “The Ripper” by me and my colleagues.

I told her about his insanely rigid and near-impossible criteria, and how difficult it was for us to find even one woman who met all the items on the list, let alone the sixty-seven he’d turned down.

I told her about the damage control line and the sheer amount of hours I’d spent comforting the women he’d turned down with such callous indifference—the sheer amount of hours we, as a team, had spent on his file.

And finally, I told her about why I’d gone undercover in the first place. About how his refusal to meet with us combined with everything else had pushed us over the edge. We needed accurate data and couldn’t think of any other way to get it.

I kept my tone and phrasing as professional as I could manage, presenting her with all the facts. Then I apologized for my actions, because regardless of what my motive had been, what I’d done was still wrong.

All the while Vivian had been sitting beside me on the couch, silent and stiff as a wooden board.

“I’m not convinced Jackson wants a partner,” I finished off almost an hour after I’d started. “Everything from his strict criteria to his behavior on our date indicates that he couldn’t be less interested in finding someone through our services.”

By the time I finally shut up, my untouched tea was cold, the pillow on my lap was permanently disfigured, and I was slightly out of breath.

But holy shit did that feel good.

It felt so, so, so fucking good.

I wished Alice and Mitch were here. I’d tried my best to cover everything, but it would have been nice for them to get their voices heard too. Finally, someone was listening.

After a long stretch of silence, Minerva nodded one last time. “Okay, so what would you recommend?”

“For what?” I asked.

“If we were to start over with Jackson, how would you suggest we go about it?”

“Vivian would have to…” I trailed off when she shook her head.

“I’d like to hear your professional opinion, Miss Paquin,” she said calmly. “If you could hit rewind on Jackson’s file, go back to day one, how would you handle it? What would you do differently? Assuming, of course, that you had his full cooperation this time around.”

Jackson had remained silent while I talked, much like Vivian. Though I was very aware of how intently he’d been watching me the whole time.

I cleared my throat, keeping my focus on Minerva. “All right. In my professional opinion, unless Jackson is willing to enroll in our Immersive program and put in the work with a senior consultant, I wouldn’t recommend he stay with Charmed. I believe we’ve done everything else we can for him at this point.”

In my defense, she’d asked.

Vivian had died a thousand deaths over the last hour, and that last comment pulled a tortured little noise out of her. In her professional opinion, I was a waste of salary and benefits, and any employer who hired me after this was an idiot.

It didn’t matter that I’d had a perfect streak before Jackson’s file hit my desk. It didn’t matter that she’d deemed me to be a “promising candidate” for the next available senior consultant position before he happened. It didn’t matter that I’d received nothing but praise from my previous clients or that I’d been pushed to the point of burnout.

To her, none of that mattered.

Minerva’s lips twitched, amused. “You think he’s that dire? He needs a full-time babysitter and dating coach?”

“To be honest, he probably needs two.”

She laughed, Jackson ground his teeth like he was dead set on cracking at least three molars before this meeting had concluded, and Vivian was undoubtedly making a silent vow that my great-great-great grandchildren would pay for the sins my big mouth had committed in this room today.

Minerva tapped a slim finger on her armrest. “Why do you think that’s a better approach than simply having him sit down and participate in your assessments himself?”

Oh, that was easy. “Because I’m not sure Jackson actually knows what he wants. His team has relayed to us what he thinks he wants, but every time we’ve handed him exactly that, he’s turned it down. Not once, not twice, but sixty-seven times.”

“Makes sense,” she said. “It’s settled then. We’ll take the package.”

Jackson turned to her, thick brows slamming together. “Absolutely not. This is where I draw the line, Minerva. I won’t have a stranger move into my home and follow me around like an imprinted fucking duckling for an entire month just so I have to sit through more of these ridiculous dates. We had a deal.”

“Past tense,” she snapped back at him, her tone sharp. “And it’s no longer on the table. I asked you to try, Jackson.”

His jaw tightened. “I have tried. I’ve provided almost every data point asked of me, attended every date on time, and sat through hours upon mindless hours of utterly insufferable conversation. If you only knew⁠—”

“I’m not an idiot and I don’t appreciate being treated like one. Your version of trying would not include asking the woman you’re on a date with if she’s hard of hearing. If it is—if that’s what you truly consider appropriate behavior—then you don’t deserve what you already have, let alone anything more.”

His mouth shut with an audible snap. It would have been amusing if their back and forth wasn’t so intense.

“You’ll agree to the coaching, and you’ll put actual effort in this time around. We’ll speak about striking a new deal later, with significantly tighter terms.”

Every muscle in Jackson’s body was coiled into knots. He looked ready to explode.

“Minerva, if I may,” Vivian interjected.

“You may not. We have had two meetings per month for the better part of a year and not once had you thought to mention any of this. You led me to believe that everything was running smoothly and justified the prolonged process by claiming that Jackson was simply ‘a little picky, and rightfully so.’ Had this been brought to my attention sooner, it would have been dealt with sooner. I told you on day one that I wanted transparency.”

Vivian kept her chin up. “I apologize if you don’t believe I’ve been transparent with you. However, Jackson does not need coaching. Revisiting some of his assessments should be enough, especially if he’d agree to just… loosen up some of his criteria.”

“How would you know?” Minerva shot back. “From the sounds of it, you haven’t touched his file since it landed on your desk along with the big fat check covering your overpriced fee.”

“I—Minerva, I assure you I’ve been working just as diligently as the rest of the team to find your nephew a suitable match.”

I’m sorry, WHAT?!

My mouth fell open before my brain could stop it. Everyone saw.

“We’ve tried doing things your way, Vivian, and it’s yielded less than desirable results.”

I could almost hear Vivian’s blood boiling behind her perfectly polite smile. “Fine,” she finally agreed. “I’ll see which senior consultants are available. Even better, I’ll do it myself.”

“No need.” Minerva waved her hand. “Jamie will handle it.”

Jackson shot Minerva a you-can’t-possibly-be-serious look, and I agreed. Because she couldn’t possibly be serious.

“I’m afraid that’s not possible,” Vivian said. “Jamie lacks both the experience and the expertise to perform the required assessments, and she’s nowhere near qualified to do the coaching.”

“Agreed,” Jackson said, as though he knew exactly what he was talking about. Asshat. “And I hardly think it would be appropriate given what happened last night.”

“Jamie, what do you think?”

Heads snapped in my direction. But, again, I chose to keep my focus on Minerva.

“I think there are a lot of other consultants that would be better suited for the job than me.” Plus, the second this meeting was over, I was walking straight out of the building and never looking back. There was no way in all of hell I’d agree to do an Immersive with Jackson, even with the bonus⁠—

The bonus.

Forty thousand dollars on top of my monthly salary. Even after tax, I’d have enough to pay for the shoes, the dress, and a new phone. The rest would help cover my living expenses until I landed a new job.

Still, I wasn’t entirely convinced it would be worth it.

“But would you be willing to do it?” Minerva asked.

I shifted on the couch. “Vivian’s right. I don’t have the training or the experience.”

“Minerva, is there a reason you’re set on Jamie?” Vivian asked. “Experience aside, I have more than a handful of senior consultants who would be much more suitable personality-wise to handle the demands of an Immersive experience.”

What did that mean?

“Explain,” Minerva ordered.

“Jamie is… young,” Vivian said. “And these month-long experiences can be intense. I also need to make sure that my employees are comfortable with the positions they’re being put in at work.”

Oh, bullshit!

First of all, I was twenty-eight, so not that young. Second of all, where was this so-called concern for our comfort when we’d been forced to sleep on conference room couches to meet Jackson’s standing deadlines? Where the hell had it been when we’d tried to tell her, time and time again, that this wasn’t working?

I swallowed it all back, averting my gaze.

Minerva’s attention drifted back to me. “You still haven’t answered my question. Would you be willing to do it?”

No. Absolutely not.

Or, like, maybe. I didn’t know. Forty thousand dollars was a lot of money to turn down. Especially since I was this close to unemployment.

“I need some time to think about it,” I said, ignoring the two sharp glares my answer earned me.

Minerva’s mouth ticked with a faint, secretive smile. “How does twenty-four hours sound?”

I limp-ran straight to the White Room as soon as I was finally dismissed, while Vivian stayed back to finish the meeting.

“They want me to do an Immersive,” I blurted before either Alice or Mitch could speak. “With Jackson. They want me to do an Immersive with Jackson Sinclair.”

They both looked up at me from their seats around the small table, jaws going slack.

Alice recovered first. “What? Why?”

Great question.

I sank into the chair across from her. “That meeting didn’t go at all the way I expected. Minerva actually listened. Well, first she asked, and then she listened. And when I was done talking, she asked me what I would do differently if we started over with Jackson’s file, and— You know what, not important. What would you guys do? Would you do it?”

They both answered at the same time.

“I would.”

“Not a fucking chance.”

Mitch jerked back in his chair, blinking at Alice. “Wait. Did you say you would?”

She shrugged. “It’s forty grand in thirty days.”

“Right,” I said. “And we kind of need it to pay for the clothes I ruined.”

Mitch nudged at his wire-framed glasses. “It wasn’t all your fault.”

Except it kind of was. Alice had specifically warned me to be careful with the dress. It wasn’t their fault I’d chugged a bunch of alcohol on an empty stomach and tripped on my own two feet. Alice had even tried to stop me from drinking too much while it was happening; I just hadn’t listened.

“He’s going to make your life hell if you do it,” she said. “After what we saw last night, it’s not going to be a pleasant experience. Especially for your first Immersive—” She cut off when the door was ripped open by a very tense, very huffy Vivian Hale. It slammed shut again behind her.

The Sinclairs were already gone, then. That was quick.

Her dark eyes zeroed in on me. “You have so much explaining to do. In what world did you think it would be appropriate to insult our biggest client right to his face?”

I said nothing. I could tell she was only getting started and interrupting her would just prolong what was already going to be a painstakingly long process.

But instead of falling into another scolding rant, Vivian placed both fists on her hips, looked me dead in the eyes, and said, “You’re doing it. The Immersive.”

I blinked. She was the one who said I didn’t have the experience or skillset to do it, so why was she changing her mind all of a sudden?Belongs to NôvelDrama.Org - All rights reserved.

“Minerva isn’t taking no for an answer,” she said. “And she won’t agree to have you shadow a senior consultant either. I tried.”

“But I could still say no,” I pointed out, frowning.

She shifted on her feet, looking uncharacteristically uncomfortable. Alice and Mitch picked up on it too, if the shared glance between them was any indication.

“You could.” The words scraped against her throat on their way out, almost like it hurt for her to admit. “But the Sinclairs would fire us if you did.”

How was that my problem?

“I made a deal with Minerva,” Vivian went on. “If you do the Immersive and are still unable to find Jackson an appropriate match, they won’t take their business to a competitor. This will be it for them, which is the best-case scenario for us. It’ll limit rumors, minimize damage to our reputation, and prevent an exodus. You need to do it.”

Was she serious? She expected me to just smile and agree? After everything that had just happened?

I weighed my options. I could say no and tell Vivian to shove it. Or I could agree, go through one month of hell for forty thousand dollars, and then tell Vivian to shove it.

“When do they expect me to start?” I asked.

“Monday, the fifth. You’ll be going through an intensive two-week training program with me and Tammi beforehand. Expect to be here at six every day, sans Sunday. We’ll likely need to go until eight or nine p.m. to get you prepared in time.”

She said it with a straight face.

“Will I be compensated?”

“Compensated for what?”

“All the overtime you expect me to work for the next two weeks. Will I be compensated for it?”

Alice brought a subtle hand to her mouth to hide her smile, her dark eyebrows lifting with genuine surprise.

Vivian studied me for a few moments. “You’re a salaried employee. It’s expected that you put in a few extra hours here and there when required.”

“Right. But I’ve—we’ve—been working overtime nonstop for eight months straight. So, unless I’m going to be paid for the additional hours, I’ll be here from eight to five, Monday to Friday.”

Either way, I’d be earning the same amount of money.

There was a shocked beat of silence as Vivian’s forehead broke out in blotches of red.

“What’s gotten into you?” she asked.

I was exhausted, that’s what. And angry. And incredibly sick of being taken advantage of. My well was empty. Last night had drained what little energy and patience was left, and this morning had refilled it with bitter acid.

“Vivian,” I said, emphasizing her name with the same lack of enthusiasm she often used with mine, “you’ve been taking advantage of us for months. You knew from day one that Jackson’s requirements for a partner were beyond unreasonable and that his lack of direct participation would end up causing us major issues. That’s why you assigned three junior consultants to him in the first place. You needed someone to blame after this whole thing blew up, and you didn’t want to lose anyone you deemed valuable. So, excuse me if I’m not all that keen on providing you with any additional free labor.”

The words flowed out of me with effortless, unrushed ease. I didn’t stutter, look away, or cower even an inch. Funny what you’re capable of when you have absolutely no fucks left to give.

The blotches on Vivian’s face had spread down to her neck, disappearing under the deep vee of her silk blouse. But before she could open her mouth and slice into me again, I said, “I’ll do it under three conditions. One, Alice and Mitch have employment immunity while I’m doing the Immersive. You can’t fire them.”

She laughed.

It was a dry, scraping sound that didn’t even come close to reaching her eyes. “Oh please. I don’t know who you think you are in this room right now, but I’m not asking you to do this, Jamie. You don’t get to⁠—”

“Then no.” It was that easy.

She stopped, her eyes darting to Mitch and Alice before narrowing. It was one thing to have her authority undermined in private, but another thing entirely to have it happen in front of others.

“I have three conditions,” I repeated. “Either all three are met, or I don’t do it.”

“You’ll be fired if you don’t,” she told me point-blank.

See, that had been her biggest mistake. I’d been so acutely aware that I was going to lose my job over this file that I’d eventually just accepted it. There was no fear or shock value left in her threat.

I shrugged. “If I get fired, so does Charmed.”

I had her. I knew I had her when she crossed her arms and raised her chin, looking down at me like I was beneath her.

“What are the other two conditions?”

I had to swallow my smile.

“I want half the bonus upfront.” The bill for the clothes was due in seven days and their policy very explicitly stated that they wouldn’t grant extensions. “And I want you to write all three of us glowing recommendation letters for future employers, which you will adhere to when they call you for a reference.”

Because even if the events of last night made their way through the industry’s overactive rumor mill, a glowing recommendation from Vivian Hale could potentially offset it. It was our best bet.

The room held its breath while she contemplated her options. Eventually, she caved. “Fine. You’re expected in my office first thing tomorrow morning. All three of you are dismissed for the day.”

It was the answer I’d expected. I knew she would agree because I hadn’t left her a choice. Still, as soon as she was gone, a sense of relief, pride, and satisfaction swirled up my torso.

“Dude,” Mitch breathed, his eyes wide with awe. “That was fucking incredible. Holy shit.”

“Who’s got the balls of steel now?” Alice said with an impressed nod of acknowledgment. “Way to go, Paquin.”

It felt unbelievably good to give Vivian a tiny taste of her own medicine. To be the one who stood up for the group.

How much better would it feel when I did the same to Jackson, I wondered.

He’d put me through eight months of pure hell, and karma had presented me with the perfect opportunity to return the favor. Tit for vengeful tat.

And I had two full weeks to plot my revenge.