"Since when do you have friends?" Oh yes, I can always rely on Ms. Zhao to place me in an embarrassing situation. 

"Nice to see you as well, Ms. Zhao," I drawl out sarcastically, but to my dismay she ignores the hint and waves it off with her hand. 

Eying Zander and Patrick from head to toe in barely contained revulsion, she quickly flashes a few notes and envelopes in my face before walking past all three of us and opens a drawer to place them in.

Of course, how could I forget to grab the notes and letters from the bulletin board in the lobby?

It's only been a day and I'm already slipping.

"Who's the pretty lady?" I'm actually quite surprised and so is Celia when Patrick leans in towards her.

"None of your business," her eyes narrow, and I can tell from the way she's scrutinising him that she's summing him up, profiling him for our files of course.

"So Cupcake isn't the only one who's feisty, it runs among friends too." Glowering at Zander for that illuminating bit of information, I look back at Celia to see a perplexed look on her face.

"Cupcake? Who the hell is that?" Celia exclaims questioningly, eye each one of us with a raised brow.

To my complete dismay both Zander and Patrick point towards me, and I groan in embarrassment. 

"O-Kay, Um would you excuse the two of us for a moment, I need to talk to....uh Cupcake," Celia declares amusedly, silent laughs escaping her. 

Before I can even say a word, I'm dragged out the door and pushed into an elevator heading for the ground floor.

"Cupcake? Please tell me you did not come up with that?" 

"No, the President's son did. Damn idiot has the nerve to make fun of my baking habit."

"Aww, Catherine has a pet name, that's adorable," she coos and I smack her arm.

"Shut up! And besides, you have some explaining to do. What are you doing here?"

"I thought you might have fainted having the sexiest client we've ever had in your apartment. So out of friendly concern, I drove down here."

"Yeah right, your dad probably started reciting the Iliad."

"Damn, you know my family too well. But I'm not joking when I say Zander Nolan is gorgeous."

"And a total aggressor! He threatens people and loves fighting as a hobby. Oh yeah, he's totally the perfect man. Every girl's dream," I reply in sardonic humour.

"Is he now? So he has the makings of a sociopath... well that's definitely a first but nothing we can't handle."

"You're loving this aren't you?"

"What, your misfortune or finding Zander's match?" A fake angelic smile graces her face and I want to rip it off. How could she leave me alone like this and then mock me? What kind of friend leaves a girl in the lion's den?

"You're the worst."

"I try, and I guess the other guy's Patrick Greene."

"Yup, and it looks like he fancies you."

Gasping, her lips form into a thin line, "Oh, honey please. I don't think so, but whenever you decide to give Zander up then I'll gladly be available."

"And what the hell does that mean?"

"Oh come on, it's so obvious he's into you. What guy goes out of his way to get into a girl's apartment unless he wants something?"

"Yeah, and what he wants are my services."

"Excuse me?"

"Oh gosh, that came out wrong," I quickly cover my mouth with a hand and stare wide eyed into Celia's flushed face that's holding off on a bout of laughter.

"What I meant to say, is that he wants my help as a matchmaker, nothing else."

"Are you sure?"

".....Yes?"

"You hesitated!"

"Shut up! And get that ugly grin off your face!"

"Ugly? I always thought my grin was slutty."

"You know what? I think you and Zander are the perfect match."

"Really?" Her face lights up like a Christmas tree and I roll my eyes before stepping out into the apartment lobby.

"What's the game plan anyway? I know you plan on observing Zander, but what about him tracking you down?"

"I'll have to go along with it and then when I think I have enough information to find a match, I'll drop all ties and go on a little vacation to avoid him."

"Oh my God, it takes Zander Nolan to get you out of this place, and I've been trying it for years," genuine astonishment is read across her features and I can only frown in return.

"He's my freakin' neighbour, you aren't."

"Valid point."

"Oh and while I'm observing Zander, you can have the privilege of getting to know Patrick," a sly grin tugs at the corners of my mouth as I envision Celia going crazy over Patrick's....advances...attempt to get it on? I don't even know at this point with tequila in my system!

"No way. Never. Not in this life time. No freakin' bloody hell."

"Celia...." I coo out.

"NO."

"But Celia, it's for the business."

"You're a total witch you know that?"

"I am, and proud of it. I've been thinking, after this entire sleepover thing, I can persuade Zander to start hunting this matchmaker down first thing tomorrow and we can file away anything we have on both of them faster."

"Sounds good, will you be able to get information on both of them out of Zander or will Patrick and I be tagging along on this manhunt?"

"I have no idea, but feel free to ask him," I say lightly, knowing she'll only feel irritated by it.

"I'll get you for this, don't you worry. I can easily have you and Zander locked away in a storage closet, you and I both know how confined those are."

"You wouldn't..."

"Oh but I can."

"Bitch."

"Hoe."

"How the hell am I the hoe here?"

"Um hello, look at what you're wearing."

"Shit." My tank top blouse has firmly set around my boobs, making it seem like I actually have breasts that could spill out and my hair looks like a tumbled mess.

"This look suits you nicely."

"Shut up." Blushing deeply, I try lifting my top a bit as it begins sinking lower, making me feel extremely exposed.

"I can see why Zander might want to have a sleepover."

"Celia Anderson, if you don't shut your mouth I will seriously-"

"Hello, ladies." 

My spine shivers and a sense of doom pulses through my veins. Ever so slowly I turn around to see Randy.

"Hi," Celia and I say in unison, backing away to the elevators.

"Have any of you heard the rumour?" At least he's direct, getting straight to the point but fishing for a story out of two unsuspecting females this late at night is just low.

"What rumour?" 

His face clouds with disbelief as I press the arrow key for 'up' and Celia (God bless her soul...for now) does all the talking with Randy.

"So you're telling me you haven't heard anything about the President's son moving in here?" Randy asks warily.

"Oh, that rumour, and when I asked what rumour, I was hoping for you to specify," Celia responds cooly, glancing at her nails for added measure before shrugging.

Scoffing, he looks at her with humour in his unrelenting brown eyes; they're made of steel, never giving away any secret or clue but somehow able to read you, "so you do know?"

"Yup."

"And have you seen him around?"

"Of course not. Do you have any idea how many people live in this place?"

"Five hundred forty-two."

Celia and I both shrink back. Okay, now that is impressive field work, I'm secretly applauding him and mentally make a note of this new fact. Not even Ms. Zhao was privy to how many people lived here, and she's the Landlady! But for insurance purposes and as a result of subletting, people quietly coming and going with a few units meant for romantic rendezvous or affairs, the exact number was never disclosed. Randy being well aware of the exact number was admirable intuitive work.

"Ooo-kay but out of all those people how are we suppose to spot the President's son?" Celia prompts, recovering quicker than I can from Randy's mathematical wonder.

"Trust me, a girl your age could easily spot him."

I nearly snort, oh yes she would Randy. Celia of all people would be able to spot Zander within a split second. 

Swiftly glancing at her, I know she's barely containing a laugh and folds her arms defensively, making sure Randy avoids looking at her face by drawing attention to the movement. 

The 'ding' of the elevator is welcoming and both of us step in, but unfortunately so does Randy.

"So you're saying you have no idea where he is?" He prods verbally, clearly not taking 'no' for an adequate answer. 

"Nope."

"Not a clue."

"Really?" 

"Absolutely."

"Yes," I chime in, getting tired of this charade.

"I'm keeping an eye out for both of you, and since we're going to be good friends in the future, I'll let you in on a little secret. And hopefully, you'll keep a good eye out for Zander Nolan and notify me if you spot him."

We both lean in further as his voice drops to a whisper, "Zander Nolan isn't my prime target, it's the matchmaker in this apartment whom I know he's after."

Oh. Bloody. Freaking. Hell. Hounds.

Gulping, I beg my nerves and internal panic cells to calm down, offering Randy a surprised expression I nod in appreciation, regardless of me being the prime target, it would make for quite the story and recognition among the press for Randy. 

Who knows how many elites know of my true identity already, it wouldn't be too difficult for them to find out but there's always been unspoken respect of privacy and the majority of our clients have kept that end of the deal. At least they won't be ratting me out to Randy, especially with binding contracts of confidentiality looming over their heads.

"If you're looking for the matchmaker then why find Zander Nolan?" Celia asks placidly, her arm tensing next to me as his news is just as upsetting to her as it is to me since we were both technically matchmakers whose identities were on the line.

"Because my gut tells me he'll lead me right to him or her."

"And why's that?"

"Come on, no rich snob is going to move into this place in the middle of winter unless they're desperate and that desperation can only derive from one thing. Love issues."

"Your theory makes a little sense, I guess," I squeak out.

"It makes perfect sense, call it a sixth sense, but I know once I've spotted Zander, our dear matchmaker won't be too far behind." Stepping out of the elevator, he waves goodbye and I finally manage to let loose a shaky breath of air.

"Crap, things just got really bad."

"Ya think? He's onto us, Celia. Randy may be an odd little man, but he's damn good at his job."

"Our reputation is at stake! Once they find out two twenty-one year old females run a matchmaking business, we'll be the laughing stalk of the century."

"Not to mention what our clientele will think," I muse darkly, picturing angry clients demanding refunds. It wasn't so much that age mattered but there was a certain degree of ageist ideals attached to the matchmaking business. People usually think a wise old lady who simultaneously can predict your future, is the only being capable of setting people up with their destined soulmate.

"I never thought our business would be ruined by the likes of Randy."

"So now what do we do?"

"We could get someone to pose as you and then get Zander to track them down. I mean, Randy will be shadowing him, right? So once Zander meets our fake matchmaker then we'll give him fake contact information, and you can conduct business as normal."

"That's sneaky, complicated, yet brilliant. I love it! But Zander did say he'd get rid of Randy easily enough."

"How so?"

"An all expenses paid vacation apparently. He'll whisk Randy away with an offer he can't refuse."

The gleam in Celia's eyes was a mix of envy and awe, "that's good but what if it doesn't work? We need a backup plan in case Randy doesn't buy into Zander's all too alluring offer," pausing to consider our options, Celia nods in contemplation before voicing a solution, "then we'll settle with this fake matchmaker idea. He'll eventually discover she's a fake and start digging for clues from the beginning. By then, Zander will have moved out, and you'll be gone on this 'vacation' you speak of, which by the way, is not going to be my house."

Rolling my eyes, I jab an elbow into her, "I wouldn't dream of staying at your place and calling it a vacation besides, even if Randy discovers that this matchmaker is a fake, as long as he doesn't tell Zander, then it's all good."

"That's the plan."

"That's the plan..."

"Then why do I feel like it'll go terribly wrong?"

"I share the same dread," I cry out despondently, not looking forward to the loopholes and coverups involved. 

"We really need to work on being positive."

"Yup."

Our lack of a positive conversation comes to an end as we arrive on my floor, entering my apartment, I scream.

Ms. Zhao is tied to a chair and blindfolded as Patrick rocks out with an electric guitar playing it off key, and shattering a glass nearby while Zander plays chubby bunny with whom I assume is my other next door neighbour, Mona.

Hearing my scream, they all turn around, halting in place.

"Oh you're back." 

"WHAT DID YOU TWO DO? AND WHY IS MS. ZHAO TIED TO A CHAIR AND BLINDFOLDED?"

I'm glaring at Zander as I say this but he doesn't reply as his mouth is jammed with marshmallows. Grunting, I unplug the electric guitar, hand Celia a broom to clean up the shattered glass, and undo the blindfold around Ms. Zhao. 

After I finish untying her hands, she walks silently to the couch and passes out before snoring louder than on ogre. 

Walking up to Zander and Mona, I grab the insanely large bag of marshmallows and throw it in the trash bin, then grab Patrick's ear and drag him to the couch. How I want to dress up in an army uniform with a whip in my hand because they all deserved a beating to strike them back into reality.

"You were gone for soooo long, so we decided to have a little fun," Patrick moans, longingly eyeing his guitar. I hear Celia snort, but her amused expression vanishes when she senses my death glare.

"FUN? YOU TIED UP THE LANDLADY AND BLINDFOLDED HER!"

"Whoa, Cupcake no need to yell."

"NO NEED TO YELL? IT'S ONLY TEN IN THE EVENING AND YOU'VE TURNED MY APARTMENT INTO A CRIME SCENE!"

"It wasn't us who tied her up, it was her boyfriend, the plumber."

"WHAT?"

"He came in after you left and they started fighting, so he tied her up and bought our silence...he was also insanely built, I might add."

"You have got to be kidding!" I place a hand against my temple, massaging the vein that's about to pop.

"I think he might have been ex-mob."

"Nah, Pat, they were speaking a dialect the local mob doesn't use," Zander pipes in, his voice hoarse from all the marshmallows he had managed to stuff into that infernal mouth of his. 

"Will the two of you shut up!"

"Oh and he drugged her with something, might have been morphine," Mona finally speaks up and I stare at the person I've been living next to for more than three years, and who has been a complete stranger.

"WHAT?" 

My knees feel wobbly and I try calming my erratic heart. I need to call the police, right? Paramedics should come and diagnose her, but if she's snoring like there's no tomorrow then she's still alive so that means she didn't take a lethal dose and will live....I hope.

"And the guitar playing?" I hiss out.

"I was setting a new record."

Closing my eyes, my voice takes on a blacker and darker tone, "Chubby bunny?" 

"Betting on who would get the remaining cupcakes in your fridge," Zander states matter of factly.

"WHAT?" My eyes flash open with barely contained rage directed at him and every other person in this room who was making light of the situation. 

"Oh! And a few of my friends from the floor below will be coming over," Mona squeals in delight before skipping off to my bathroom, how she even knows where it's located, baffles me.

"You," Pointing a firm finger in Zander's direction, I walk with lethal steps towards him, "You authorised this, didn't you?"

"Yeah, but this is great. I can find out if one of them is the matchmaker or not."

Groaning, I grab a couch cushion and scream my lungs off till Celia taps my shoulder to get my attention. 

"What?" I cry out.

"Um, someone called the police."