Epilogue

EPILOGUE

G erri Wilder sauntered across Mara Ashford’s opulent home, her eyes twinkling with mischief and satisfaction. The room buzzed with excited chatter, the clinking of champagne flutes, and the soft classical music playing in the background. She paused to admire the stunning view of Central Park through the floor-to-ceiling windows, marveling at how the lush greenery contrasted with the sleek, modern decor of the penthouse.

The scent of freshly baked scones and delicate tea sandwiches wafted through the air, making Gerri’s stomach growl. She’d been so caught up in the excitement of Cat and Keir’s engagement news that she’d barely touched the exquisite spread Mara’s staff had prepared.

As she made her way to the buffet, she caught snippets of animated conversations. Suzette Reeves and Vivianne Sharpe were holding court near the fireplace, their faces glowing with pride as they recounted the details of their children’s whirlwind romance.

“I still can’t believe it,” Suzette gushed, her hand fluttering to her pearl necklace. “My Cat, engaged! And to such a wonderful man.”

Vivianne nodded enthusiastically, her silver hair catching the light. “Keir’s never been happier. It’s like he’s a completely different person with Cat.”

Gerri couldn’t help but smile as she approached the waffle station. The chef, a young man with a hipster beard and tattoos peeking out from under his crisp white uniform, greeted her with a grin.

“What can I get for you, ma’am?” he asked, gesturing to the array of toppings.

“Surprise me,” Gerri winked. “And don’t skimp on the whipped cream, darling.”

As the chef set about creating her waffle masterpiece, Gerri’s keen ears picked up a conversation from the nearby settee. Mara Ashford and Letty Madden sat huddled together, their voices low but tinged with a hint of wistfulness.

“I’m so glad the others are having such luck,” Mara sighed, swirling the mimosa in her flute. “But I can’t help feeling like I’ll never be one of the lucky ones.”

Letty reached out, patting Mara’s knee sympathetically. “Oh, I know exactly how you feel. It’s wonderful to see someone’s children find happiness, but...”

“But you wish it were your own,” Mara finished, nodding. “If only my son would focus on something other than short-term flings when it comes to romance.”

“And if only my daughter wasn’t so wary of men after her divorce. She acts like she’s allergic to love. And she is so focused on her job she barely does anything else,” Letty added with a rueful smile.

Gerri’s matchmaker senses tingled. She thanked the chef for her waffle - a decadent creation topped with fresh berries, a drizzle of chocolate, and a mountain of whipped cream - and made her way over to the two women.

“Ladies,” she greeted, plopping down between them with a conspiratorial grin. “I couldn’t help but overhear your little pity party. Now, what’s this about thinking you won’t be lucky?”

Mara blushed slightly while Letty let out a small, embarrassed laugh. “Oh, Gerri,” Mara said, shaking her head. “You know how it is. We’re thrilled for Cat and Keir, truly. It’s just...”

“It’s hard not to wonder if our own children will ever find that kind of happiness,” Letty finished.

Gerri took a bite of her waffle, savoring the burst of flavors before fixing both women with a knowing look. “Now, you listen to me,” she said, her voice low and intense. “I’ve been in this business for a long time, and if there’s one thing I’ve learned, it’s that love has a way of sneaking up on you when you least expect it.”

She leaned in closer, her eyes twinkling. “In fact, I have a feeling that you both might be in for a pleasant surprise very soon.”

Mara’s eyebrows shot up. “What do you mean, Gerri?”

Letty leaned forward, her interest piqued. “Do you know something we don’t?”

Gerri simply smiled, taking another bite of her waffle. “Let’s just say I have a few irons in the fire. I’ll be talking to you later on in the meeting, but for now, we celebrate young love. Grab a mimosa and let’s toast to new beginnings.”

As if on cue, a waiter appeared with a tray of fresh drinks. Gerri plucked three flutes from the tray, handing one each to Mara and Letty before raising her own.

“To love,” she declared, her voice carrying across the room and drawing the attention of the other guests. “May it continue to work its magic, bringing joy, laughter, and a few surprises along the way.”

The room echoed with cheers and the clinking of glasses. As Gerri sipped her mimosa, she caught the hopeful glances Mara and Letty exchanged. She smiled to herself, already plotting her next move. After all, she had a reputation to uphold, and two more lonely hearts to bring together.

The Matchmaker’s work was never done, and Gerri wouldn’t have it any other way.