4. Chapter 2

Chapter 2

3 months earlier

Theo

Y ou've been matched.

The email that just arrived in my inbox glares at me and dares me to open it. It's too soon for them to have found a match for me, isn't it? I'm scared of clicking the damn message. I'm a pussy, that's what I am. I wave the cursor over the subject line and wonder what it would be like if my dreams came true and I found a bride.

My friends and partners, Max and Erik, will tease me so much when I introduce them to her—my perfect match. Getting up my courage, I click on the message.

Dear Mister Foley, Your profile has been matched to Helen Hudson. Clicking on her name will take you to her profile, where you can read more about your future wife. I, personally, made the match with the recommendations the computer gave us. I urge you to contact Miss Hudson soon so that you can get acquainted.

I click on the link to her profile. There's no picture, but everything in her profile clicks with what I've written in my own. Educated. Check. Loves to travel. Check. Has her own business. Check. What I can find of her physical description is that she's petite and slender. She's left most of the physical attributes empty. I find that odd. They told us the more information we gave about ourselves, the easier it would be to match with someone.

As the email says, my next step is to message my soon-to-be bride. I type something simple, but that conveys that I'm really excited to meet her and move forward with a wedding, if possible. I hit send and wait for an answer. After about an hour, I still don't have a response. Maybe she's at work, or maybe she's busy with her former boyfriend, who wants to get her back.

I try to calm myself down. I have a vivid imagination and have trouble keeping my thoughts from spiraling. Normally, I take one of my spreadsheets and have some fun with them. That helps my nerves tremendously. Yeah, I'm a big nerd, and I don't care. The numbers soothe me. The thing is, I'm really intrigued by my bride-to-be. I need more information.

Of course! I should search for her on the internet. Maybe I can find a picture of her to see what she looks like. I make several searches and the image of a goddess appears before me. It's a social media account. Helene Hudson. I click on it to find more. She has long, flowing platinum hair and the most gorgeous violet eyes. She looks taller and not petite at all, but I'm entranced by the picture.

I've never seen such a striking person before. Her beauty almost looks ethereal. I foresee having a huge picture of her hanging in our home over a fireplace. I start going back through her posts. She's witty and fun. I immediately follow her and spend the night drooling over her pictures. Choosing one of the best pictures of her, I print it and put it on my nightstand.

Like a fool in love, I kiss the picture before I go to sleep.

Good night, beautiful goddess, we'll soon meet.

It's been a week, and Helene hasn't messaged me back. I know she's alive and well because she keeps posting updates on her social media account. I wish I was courageous enough to contact her through her DMs, but I want our primary communication to be through the mail-order bride company's app.

I found The Perfect Bride Agency through word of mouth. A friend of a friend of an in-law's brother had found their bride through the agency, and since I'm really uncomfortable going to bars or nightclubs, I thought it was a good idea. Ironic that I'm part owner of a pretty popular nightclub in Miami. Midnight Heat.

Yes, the name is a little bit out there, and sometimes people think we're a sex club, but no, we're a regular nightclub where you can drink, chill, and dance. Max, Erik, and I committed to this business ten years ago, and we haven't looked back. But I'm in accounting, and I usually hide there most of the time.

My current situation has me checking on social media every hour, on the hour. I keep hoping Helene says something about the agency or her marital status.

I'm getting ready to leave work when I refresh and see her new post. She added a location, and my heart starts beating faster. She's at a frozen yogurt place in downtown Miami.

I fly out of Midnight Heat, intending to go right to that yogurt place and confront Helene. On the drive there, I'm barely able to keep to the speed limit. I might have run a red light, and I'm sure I'll get a ticket, but this is the most important moment in my life. When I get there, however, she's with a group of friends. What if she hasn't told them about joining the agency?

So I decide to stay in my car and watch her from afar. Every time she laughs, I smile, and I feel like our match is validated every minute I watch over her. Yes, she's the one for me. She's gorgeous, and I get a little too excited watching her cross her legs in that mini skirt she's wearing. I spend close to an hour spying on Helene and her friends, and when they leave, I'm tempted to follow her in my car. But I think that's a bit too much, even for me.

When I'm back home, I go to the bathroom, and like an inexperienced teenage boy, I jerk off to visions of my goddess. Oh, I've got it bad, and I'll be the laughingstock of the company when my partners find out.