11. Bailey

"I knew it!"Trevor shouted over the speakerphone in my Prius as I waited in the pickup line at the middle school.

I'd just given Trevor and Olivia the tea about Cole and his TPOP app. My preference would have been to tell them both in person, but I had a busy morning at the shop and didn't have time to stop by their offices before I picked up my little sister. A few months ago, I applied for the Big Sister, Little Sister program. Last week, I was matched. This was our first time hanging out. I was picking her up from school and then taking her to an art studio, where Birdie worked part-time. According to the information I'd gotten about her, she loved art.

"So he's an escort," Olivia stated plainly.

"No, I mean, yes, technically. But he says that he doesn't, you know, hookup with his clients." I spared them from what I'd actually said. Hanky-panky. I knew my Grandma Betty would find that hilarious, since she was the one who used the term.

"Right. Of course not." Olivia's tone was flat, indicating she did not believe that was the case.

Olivia might run a matchmaking business now, but she'd spent over a decade in family law, specializing in divorce. She'd even earned the nickname The Maneater. She wasn't the most trusting of people.

"He might not." Trevor played devil's advocate. "If you think about it, it would be bad for business if he slept with his clients. I'm looking up his app."

I already had. Under services, it stated he was available for any occasion that required a plus one. Although he didn't have Yelp, there were reviews on the app, and he had a nearly perfect rating. I'd read some of them. They said he'd accompanied people to not just weddings; he'd attended high school reunions, Christmas work parties, family reunions, influencer events, award shows, and even a funeral. I'd read that review twice just to make sure I'd seen it correctly.

Apparently, the woman's ex-mother-in-law, who she'd been close to, passed. Her ex-husband had just gotten engaged to the woman he'd cheated on her with, and his new fiancée was pregnant after her ex told her he never wanted kids. She'd written that she hadn't been able to face her ex, or the pitying looks of his family, alone, which is why she'd hired a plus one. She said Cole handled the situation with grace, strength, and levity. He'd been her rock, and he made the day not only bearable, but actually enjoyable. She was able to pay her respects and say goodbye to her former mother-in-law while making her ex-husband jealous at the same time. It was a win-win.

"Okay, this man is im-press-ive," Trevor emphasized each syllable of the word.

"You just think that because you think he's hot," Olivia countered.

Trevor tsked. "Honey, I am an eye candy connoisseur, a collector, if you will, but this man has a lot more going for him besides how he looks."

Olivia was silent, which meant she was most likely examining his app to come to her own conclusion. "He doesn't have any photos where his face is showing, and he requires a FaceTime or Zoom before he accepts new clients, and if you are accepted as a client, you have to sign an NDA not to reveal his identity." She was quiet, and I knew her silence meant she was now team Cole is Impressive.

As much as I was enjoying this conversation, I saw my little sister walking out of the school gates and knew I had to end it. I loved Trevor, but I didn't trust him to keep it clean around an eleven-year-old's ears. "Gotta go, guys. I see my little."

"Your little what?" Trevor followed up.

"I'm doing the Big Sister, Little Sister program."

"Aww, you were born for that!" Trevor enthused. "Have fun! Don't do anything I would," he said in a singsong as the phone disconnected.

I waved as the girl approached, and she looked around like I was embarrassing her. She reminded me of a young Reese Witherspoon. She was petite, with blonde hair and pixie features. I'd only met her briefly over Zoom, and she hadn't seemed that stoked about spending time with me. I was telling myself it was just teenage, or I guess, pre-teenage angst, and I wasn't taking it personally.

"Hi, Carly." I smiled widely as she got in. "How was school?"

"Fine, thank you." She placed her backpack on the floor and pulled the seatbelt across her lap.

"Are you hungry? I was going to take you to an art exhibit, but we can grab food first."

"An art exhibit?" she repeated.

"Yeah, my sister is an artist, and she is working on a new collection in a warehouse that is basically a rotating exhibit."

She shrugged. "Okay."

"Okay, you're hungry? Or okay, you want to go to the exhibit."

She rolled her eyes before saying, "Yeah, whatever."

Even though I was still confused over what that response meant, I stopped asking questions and made an executive decision. I'd take her to the exhibit, and if she were hungry, she would let me know, and I could get her something to eat.

As we made the short ten-minute drive to the warehouse, I asked, "So, have you always loved art?"

"I liked art when I was a kid."

"Oh, sorry, it's just that in your profile, it says you love art."

"I didn't write that."

"Oh."

"My mom did," she explained.

I chuckled, not because her mom writing her profile was funny, but because Trevor had written a dating profile for Olivia when she was up for partner at her firm, and he knew she wouldn't get it if she didn't have a husband. The date it had matched her with had not gone well.

"Why is that funny?" Carly asked defensively.

"I'm sorry." I apologized. "It's not. It just reminded me of my friend. Her assistant made an online dating profile for her, and she ended up going out with a guy who definitely had the wrong idea about her."

"Wait. He just made her a profile without her knowing?" She turned toward me, seeming very interested in the subject. It made me wonder if she had someone in particular that she wanted to set up.

"I think she might have known that he was setting it up, just not what he'd written. It was actually for a matchmaking business that she owns, and they are both running now."

"She's a matchmaker?!"

"Now she is. She used to be a divorce attorney."

Out of the corner of my eye, I saw her face light up. "What? That's crazy!"

Yes.I gave myself an internal high-five. Even though I wasn't cool, my bestie was, and I had no problem using her to score street cred cool points. Which was probably never a sentence Olivia had ever thought of and was more evidence of just how uncool I was.

On the short drive to the warehouse, Carly asked me more questions about Olivia, and I told her that she used to be called the Maneater, which my little also seemed to approve of. As we parked, she asked, "Would I be able to sign someone up so they could matchmake for him? Like, without him knowing?"

"Um, no, I don't think so. I'm pretty sure they have to interview everyone."

Her shoulders dropped. The answer clearly stuck a pin in her balloon of enthusiasm and deflated it.

"Why? Who do you want to set up?" In the file the program had given me about her, I'd read that her father had died when she was six and her brothers were only five, so I wasn't sure who the mystery man in her life would be.

"My uncle. He just does so much for us, and he never does anything for himself. He used to have a girlfriend, but they broke up a long time ago." As she was telling me, I noticed a spark in her bright blue eyes. "What about you? My uncle's really hot. I mean, I don't think he's hot, but like, everyone else does. My teachers, my friends, their moms, their dads, everyone at the farmer's market. Literally, like, if you have a pulse and are not related to him, you totally think he's hot. So, do you have a boyfriend? Or a girlfriend?"

"No, neither, but um, no, I don't. I'm not really, you know, I'm really busy with work, so, yeah, I don't really have time for a relationship." I couldn't help but feel flattered that Carly had deemed me worthy of being set up with her uncle, but there was no way that could happen.

Besides it probably being on the wrong side of ethical, I needed to figure out what was going on with Simon and get over this teenage crush I had on Cole. I'd dreamt about him the night before. Again. And I couldn't stop thinking about him. I also needed to stop sniffing the handkerchiefs he'd given me. It was starting to be borderline creepy.

She sighed as we got out of the car, and I felt bad that I'd clearly disappointed her. I'd known her for less than fifteen minutes, and I'd already let her down.

We walked into the large space, and I noted that even though she'd said she wasn't interested in art, she seemed to be taking in all the pieces as we made our way to the corner where my sister's workspace was set up. Her back was to us as she worked on her latest piece.

"Birdie," I said her name.

As she turned around, Carly gasped. Loudly. "Oh my god!"

"What? What is it? What's wrong?" I asked.

Carly pointed at my sister, and I noticed her hand was shaking. "You're Birdie."

My sister smiled. "Yep. I am."

"You're Dylan Hart's Birdie."

Oh right. That made sense. I always forgot that my sister was engaged to someone famous. Probably because he wasn't around much, and when he was, they usually kept a low profile because he wanted to be ‘normal' or at least that's what he said. I'd noticed that whenever we were in public and people didn't recognize him, he'd take off his hat or start speaking louder until someone inevitably noticed who he was.

"I've seen you on his TikTok's. And at the AMA's. And the Grammy's. You're getting married to Dylan Hart."

"Yep, that's me."

"I love Chaos Collective! Morning Star is my favorite song. No, no, um, Price of Luck is, Price of Luck is my favorite."

Birdie listened intently as Carly went on for nearly an hour, gushing about how much the band had meant to her. She also took selfies with her and helped her shoot a TikTok using her canvas.

The more Carly gushed about Dylan, the more I wished I liked him more. It wasn't that he was a bad guy; he just loved himself a lot. So much so that I wasn't sure he really had room for someone else.

Carly's phone beeped. She checked it and said that her ride was here to pick her up. When we set up the plans, we'd agreed I would get her from school and then her uncle would pick her up.

I could see the disappointment on her face that the time was over. Birdie must have seen it, too, because she said, "Chaos is going to be in town this summer. They are ending their tour in the city. I can get you tickets if you want."

"Are you serious?! Yes! That would be awesome!" Carly squealed as she hugged my sister and then me.

"Oh my gosh! This was the best! I can't wait to tell Riley and Michelle! Bye, bye, bye!" She waved as she rushed out to meet her ride.

I watched out the large window as Carly hurried down the steps and hopped in a white pickup truck that read Vaughn Construction on the side. Her uncle must work for Sadie's husband, Alex Vaughn. I briefly wondered if Sadie might know her uncle, whoever he was, but then remembered that not all companies were as small as Bliss Bridal. Alex Vaughn had hundreds of employees; I doubted he knew them all by name, much less his wife, who owned a bakery.

"She's a sweet kid," Birdie commented as she returned to her canvas.

"She is," I agreed.

I felt a little strange about our first visit. It had gone well, but only because Birdie was engaged to Carly's favorite singer. I hoped that in the future, I'd be able to actually connect with her and make a difference. Or maybe this was making a difference. She'd clearly left happier than when we arrived. Maybe I should take that as a win.