Chapter 4 -

An hour later, Claire and I were sitting up in the office/flat of Cupid’s Arrow; trying to decide which man we should set Anna up with.

“We have a zillion men who are Goth-looking,” Claire complained, “So, why can we not find any that would go well with Anna?”

I sighed and flipped back through the notebook, “She wanted someone who was artistic.” I said, “Do we have any sensitive artists or poets?”

Claire groaned, “Argh, probably. I’ll go take a look.”

I nodded absently and flicked back to Georgiana’s page, “You know we should set Georgiana up with Juan.” I shouted to Claire.

She popped her head through the door, “Why? They’re completely different aren’t they?”

I nodded, “Exactly. We’ve been setting her up with men who are similar to her. Maybe we should try someone different.”

“Maybe.”

I looked up to see Claire staggering with about seven tapes. “Are they all artists?” I asked as she let them all fall onto the couch next to me.

“Five artists, one poet and a story teller.” She replied, counting them off on her fingers as she said them.

“A story teller?” I raised my eyebrows. Don’t remember that guy.

Claire grinned, “Yeah, he tells stories at primary schools, nurseries and old people’s homes.”

I frowned. Definitely don’t remember him. “Well, before we start watching depressed artists and story tellers, shall we set Georgiana up with Juan?”

Claire bit her lip, “Why not?” She said after a moment, “It can’t do any harm.”

I nodded in agreement, “And what about Zach?”

Claire looked at me in frustration, “What about Zach?” She demanded.

“Well, who are we going to set him up with?”

“We found some matches.” Claire shrugged dismissively.

“Yeah, but none of them were really suitable.” I pressed, determined to at least get two clients done and sorted before we started looking at tapes.

Claire sighed, “Well, what about… Emma.”

I raised an eyebrow. “Emma?”

Claire scowled, “Well you asked!”

I studied her for a moment, “Okay, so we’ll set him up with Emma, the woman with the body of a twelve year old.”

“Oh, for Gods sake, Maddy!” Claire cried, “Organize a proper meeting with him and then we can actually know what type of women he wants.”

I raised my eyebrows, “Fine. I will.” I huffed.

She rolled her eyes and picked up the remote control, poised to press the play button, “Are you ready now? Can we start?”

I nodded and settled back, anticipating hours of fun watching sensitive artists pour out their heart.

-

“I hate artists.” Claire announced after the first tape had been shown.

No, I’m kidding. It was at least after the third tape she decided that. But then I can’t complain. After the fifth tape, I was ready to kill the next artist who came my way.

By the end of the two-hour tape viewing session, Claire and I had had enough. She was ready to burn all sketches and paintings that came into her sight and I was ready to give up in despair.

Not one of the men we’d seen had been suitable. Not one.

“That was utterly depressing.” Claire declared, collapsing onto the sofa next to me after having put away all the tapes.

I nodded silently.

“We should organize a meeting with Anna, where we’re both present.” She continued.

I glared at her, “We would have had a meeting had a certain someone not needed their beauty sleep.”

Claire did not need beauty sleep. She had, admittedly, tanned skin that was prone to blemishes if she was out in the cold for too long, but apart from that, was gorgeous. She had shoulder length brown hair with dark red highlights that was always perfect, whatever the weather whatever the time.

I hate those types of people. If I manage to get my hair looking as though I haven’t been dragged through a hedge backwards I’m happy.

She also had the best figure eve, curvy yet slim. She made me feel like a boy next to her. And coupled with her boobs, I looked like a boy with no boobs. It was rather depressing at times. She had fantastic cheekbones and, frankly, was born a natural sex goddess.

So if the real world were the fairy world, then Claire would be the beautiful damsel in distress. But in looks only. She definitely wouldn’t be crying out for a man to help her.

She stuck her tongue out at me and sighed. “I’m so bored.” She muttered.

I nodded again, this time while picking up the phone, sifting through my small black book for Zach’s number.

“What you doing?”

I dialled the number that I’d found and turned back to Claire, “I’m ringing Zach to organize a meeting.” I answered.

She nodded and motioned for me to put the phone on speaker.

“Hello?”

Claire looked at me and I nodded.

“Hi, this is Claire Caswell, from Cupid’s Arrow Dating Agency. We’d like to speak to Zachary Clensman, if we could.”

“This is he. I thought I told you to call me Zach?”

Claire stared at the phone for a second before looking at me, a bewildered expression on her face, as if she didn’t know what to make of him.

In truth, neither did I. I mean, here was a man that we’d barely talked to, let alone seen, and he was trying to make us call him Zach. Made no sense what so ever.

Well, actually, it kind of did if he was being polite. But the guy had shoved us out of his flat because his kid brother was hung over; that was plain rude and therefore had no connection to him trying to be polite now. Unless he was trying to make up for his rudeness. If that was the case then that would make sense.

Am I making sense? I have a feeling I’m not. But oh well. It’s not like anyone’s going to see inside my head and nose around my thoughts.

Claire had turned back to the phone. “Um, yeah, well, Mr Clensman, my coll-“

“Zach.”

Claire sighed and rolled her eyes, “Okay, Zach,” She snapped, “As I was saying, my colleague and I feel that another meeting is in order if we’re to find and arrange someone for you to meet up with. Therefore we’d like to arrange a new meeting for perhaps tomorrow?”

There was silence on the other end, as I flicked through the diary till I found the page for tomorrow.

“Um, tomorrow… what time?”

Claire looked expectantly at me.

“How about… at three?”

There was silence on the other end.

“Yeah, three should be okay.” He answered at last, “Where should we meet?”

I looked at Claire, “How about you come here.” She said, after a moment.

I nodded as she gazed confidently at me, waiting for my agreement with her.

“Yeah, that should be okay. I know the address.”

Claire smiled slightly, “Okay, well, we’ll see you then.”

“Okay, bye.” He hung up.

I jotted down the time and place in appointment book.

“What else do we have on today?” Claire asked, disconnecting the call.

I went back in the book to today’s date and scanned the page. “We have a meeting with Juan at four.” I replied.

“Okay, so we’ll ask Juan if he’s interested in meeting Georgiana and then if he is, we can ring her afterwards.”

“Yep.” I looked up at her, “What about Anna?”

Claire scowled and hugged one of the cushions that were carelessly thrown onto the sofas. “I think we should chose one of the guys we’ve seen and set her up with one of them.”

“Okay, but first we should meet her again, like you said.”

“How about tomorrow?”

I rubbed my nose, “Wednesday morning’s our time off.” I answered.

“Well, when are we free?” Claire demanded, impatience showing in her voice.

I sighed and picked up the appointment book. Honestly, sometimes I felt like I was like a receptionist, “We’re free on Thursday afternoon.”

Claire nodded, “Okay. We’ll meet her then.”

I wrote the meeting in.

“Great, so we have the rest of the morning free.” Claire muttered unhappily, “What the hell are we going to do?”

I raised an eyebrow at her as I shut the book, “Claire, this may come as a surprise to you, but we run a business. So technically we still have quite a few clients to sort out.” I smiled at the furious glare she sent me, “Not to burst your bubble or your hope of going shopping for the morning.”

Claire groaned, “Fine,” She sat up, a determined look on her face, “I’ll get us some lunch. What do you want?”

I frowned and looked at my watch, “Claire, you do realise that it’s only eleven thirty?”

She scoffed and grabbed her purse, “So? I’m hungry. What do you want?”

I sighed. Claire could never just sit still and do nothing. It was rather annoying at times, especially when dealing with clients. Sometimes I wondered if she really cared about Cupid’s Arrow.

“Just coffee.” I responded, smiling as she nodded and then rushed out.

-

At four we were scheduled to meet with Juan. We were planning to meet him at his flat but, due to Claire stuffing herself with a million tubs of Pot Noodle and therefore protesting she couldn’t even breath without help, he came to us.

Juan was a stereotypical Swedish looking man. Before you ask, many of our clients are rather stereotypical. Chelsea, the American wannabe, Zach, the drop dead gorgeous, and Anna, depressed Goth. Though in my opinion she didn’t seem very depressed.

Anyway, back to Juan. He was just over six feet tall, nearly six feet one and was quite muscular. Not, body builder muscular but lean muscles, so he wasn’t too bulky. His white blonde hair was windswept and dishevelled, and his bright blue eyes were bright and alert.

Not my type, I prefer dark haired men, but he still made my insides go gooey. Though, admittedly, a lot of men did that to me, considering I hadn’t had sex in about a month. I know, I know, I have a lovely steady boyfriend, yet haven’t had sex for ages. Ridiculous.

He huddled in his dark blue coat as if he could still feel the wind from outside. I could see he was wearing shiny black shoes and black suit trousers. He’d obviously come from work.

“Juan, hey, come in.” I greeted, as he smiled his boyish grin at me.

Claire looked up from the magazine she was reading to smile and wave at the Swede.

I shut the door behind Juan and motioned for him to sit down on one of the sofas. I smiled proudly as he looked round, an appreciative expression on his face.

“So this is where the famous matchmakers work, huh?” He drawled, only a hint of the Swedish accent coming through.

I raised an eyebrow, “We aren’t famous.” I replied.

Claire looked up from her magazine, “Hey, did you know that fifty year olds are supposed to be the best lovers.” She smiled saucily at Juan, “How old are you, Juan?”

He fumbled with the sleeve of his coat and cast me a glance. He was clearly uncomfortable with Claire’s blatant flirting. “Um, I am thirty two.” He answered.

Her face fell, “Oh,” She turned back to the magazine.

I shook my head and smiled slightly at Juan, “Do you want something to drink? Coffee? Tea?”

He smiled up at me, “Do you have any iced coffee?” He asked.

I frowned, “No, but I suppose I could make some coffee, put it in the fridge and then put ice in…” I trailed off at his disgusted look, “How about beer?”

He nodded and I went off to get the beer and make myself some coffee.

Returning to the living room, I found Claire reading to Juan from the magazine.

He looked utterly bored. Not surprising considering Claire was reading an article on how to get the perfect summer tan.

I handed him the beer and sat down opposite him on the couch, pushing Claire’s legs off.

She scowled and threw the magazine down onto the coffee table.

“Okay, Juan, we think we’ve found someone you may be interested in.” I said, pushing Georgiana’s picture and profile across the table for him to look at.

“Her name’s Georgiana Stanton and she’s thirty four.” Claire explained.

I watched as he studied the photo carefully, taking in every little detail. “She’s two years older than you, but you told us in your tape that you didn’t mind older women.” I hurried to put in.

If Juan didn’t like the look of Georgiana then we’d run out of people to pair her with. I could only hope and pray that Juan wouldn’t mind going along with it.

He nodded slowly and thoughtfully, “Yeah, okay.” He looked up and smiled slightly. Probably at the relief spreading over our faces, “You guys look like I’ve just agreed to not kill you!”

I blinked.

Strange analogy, but it would work. He was Swedish. We could forgive him.

“I shall give it a go.” He told us, placing the picture back onto the table.

“When?” Claire asked.

He leaned back in the chair and stared thoughtfully up at the ceiling, “I think Friday will be okay.”

I nodded, “That should be okay. If it’s not, we’ll call you.”

He smiled slightly, “Well, I should be going. I shall see you later.” With that he was standing up and out the door.

I smiled and glanced at Claire, “Well?” I asked as I grabbed the appointment book off the table next to me and write in the date.

“I guess we should call Georgie.” Claire replied.

“Think it will work this time?” I closed the book, “With Juan?”

She shook her head and cast me a smirk, “Nope.”

-

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