"Zander."

"Hmm?"

"It won't fit," I stated plainly.

"At least, let me try."

"It's too big!"

"I can just jam it in there..."

"What's the point of instructions, if you're going to stick things where they don't belong?" I demanded.

There's a burst of laughter from the opposite end of room, rice flying out of Celia's mouth as she tries to calm her cackling.

"Oh my gosh! Enough with the sexual innuendos! I'll die of laughter," she burst, wiping away tears that have trickled down her face.

Rolling my eyes, I sigh at her laughter which turns into choking while Zander places the wrong screw into the headboard of our new bed.

It's been over a year and many things have happened, mainly that I've gone public as his girlfriend since our scheme to breakout our dating as a natural scandal, worked.

Surprisingly, there was a lot of public sentiment in favour of me with headlines praising Zander for choosing someone of 'normal' standing. My taped interviews which I spent weeks rehearsing correct answers to, gained me a likability since the ordinary is something anyone can relate to.

And to my shock, things haven't changed much but I have a secret feeling that Zander, the President, and Ms. Musa work tirelessly to ensure that my public image doesn't taint my soul, making me fear for myself.

And while things in the public sphere of things haven't changed, my relationship definitely has.

We sold both our apartments and moved into a bigger unit on one of the upper floors decked out in state of the art security, and everything you could possibly dream of.

I almost screamed like a banshee out of happiness since the upper floors have everything to satiate yourself without stepping a foot out the door....basically a dream come true for me.

There's even a private courier service to deliver food and shopping essentials daily, and in-house cleaning services. I opted out of latter choice since the matchmaking business got bigger, forcing Celia and I to bitterly take on assistants to help out on both ends.

But since things are still secretive and lucrative, we can't have people snooping or looking at files or the massive chalkboard with photos to draw and map out who should be with whom.

"Can you pass me that screw," Zander asked, interrupting my train of thoughts.

"Zander, it's not going to fit and you've dented the ends of five nails already. I think we should just call someone to put it up."

"But then the bed won't be complete."

"So? You won't die without it," I said drily, catching sight of something wayward in his eyes.

Celia arrives to inspect our lack of progress but her smile is equally as alarming as the gleam in Zander's eyes. "You don't need a headboard to be in your birthday suits, kids. Since I don't want to stick around for whatever happens next, I'll leave you two alone and head home for the day."

Gawking at Celia, I watch her grin at us before moving past a corridor, the sound of the ten foot door quietly shutting and turning on its security features automatically.

"I guess she's right, we still have the bed. We can just move the bed to align with the wall," Zander observed solemnly, discarding the hammer in his hands.

"Yeah, you do that and I'll happily sleep on the couch where it's safe," I said deadpanned, inwardly loving the brooding expression on his face.

There's a dangerous glimmer in those green eyes of his as Zander leans against the wall grinning. "Safe from what? You won't fall! Even if you move around in your sleep."

"I'm trying to be safe from you, thank you very much. And even if I wanted to move, you won't let me with that death grip of yours!" I huffed, tapping a foot impatiently before rushing out of the bedroom, and settle on the couch in the open concept living area for emphasis.

"Please, you love everything about me," Zander said, coming to sit next to me.

"I also love being capable of breathing."

"I thought you liked being spooned?"

He's not wrong but I wasn't about to gratify my boyfriend when I have a bone to pick."Not when you're completely naked and emanating enough heat to be a human heater!"

"Cat, what's the problem here? The heat or being naked?"

"Erm, hello? Both."

"Really?"

"Yes, really."

"Maybe a change of scenery, might convince you otherwise," Zander muttered.

"Change of what? For what?" I asked, my face flushing and my entire body going rigid. I can't even move since Zander is glued to my side, making an escape impossible.

"Yeah, I think the couch will work," he said.

"For what? Zander, don't make me try a kickboxing move on you."

"And who taught you? Also, not the type of moves you should be making, Cat."

"Hey! I'm a lean, mean, fighting machine! I'm now toned with plenty of stamina."

"Mmm, don't I know it."

"I'm not even going to ask what you-" I should have known I'd wind up on his lap, one way or another.

My fumbling to readjust my position does nothing but close the gap between us, facing one another with the air restrained and heavy.

"I think, all things considered. You know exactly what kind of moves you should making in this position."

"One where I grab the remote next to you and turn on the TV to play your favourite horror film? Preferably with a chainsaw, to bring back memories from the amusement park," I replied in mock sweetness, batting my lashes for added affect.

Groaning, Zander leans his head back, replaying the trauma of that day. "You're really going to make me suffer and not makes the first move?"

"First move? Matchmakers don't play like that, Zander," I murmured, narrowing my eyes amusingly.

"I think as a Matchmaker, you should."

"And why's that?"

"Testing our physical compatibility should be a criteria. Matchmakers should ensure the physical well-being of their clients."

Lightly smacking his chest, I give him a sideways glance. "And we've already done that, loads of times."

"But never on the couch."

"You want to...out here?" I asked I incredulously, my eyes going wide.

"Well?"

"Are you seriously asking me permission to ruin our new couch? Our beautiful chocolate brown couch that I spent hours looking for online?"

"Well?" Zander repeated.

"Hours!"

"Yes or no?"

"But..."

"Think of it as breaking it in."

"You don't break something meant to sit on," I muttered factually.

"So is that a yes?"

"Are you for real, hearing a yes in my words?"

"Yes to the yes."

"Okay..." I conceded, giving in.

"KIDS! I'M HOOMMEEE!" Boomed a familiar voice.

I freeze in shock as Zander's hands still from unclasping my bra and a vein on his forehead looks like it's about to pop. "Should I just kill him?" He groaned.

"CELIAAA! CAT! ZAN!"

Slowly sliding off of Zander, I say nothing but make note of his wrathful expression and when Patrick's head comes popping out from a corner, a cushion goes flying into his face.

"Hey!"

"Didn't you ever hear of ringing someone up before being an uninvited guest?" Zander demanded.

"I did ring the bell! No one came, so I let myself in. I know the passcode."

"You have five minutes to say what you want and then you're leaving, Pat."

"Leaving? Why would I do that?" Patrick asked, entering the room.

"Can't you have at least some tact like your girlfriend?"

Giving Zander a hurtful look, Patrick dives right into being dramatic. "You're saying Celia is more tactful than me? Your best friend? Your comrade for life? Basically your eternal second wife?"

"Don't say that. Don't ever say that, because NO," Zander gritted, frowning.

Turning on him, Patrick's face softens when he looks at me, searching for help. "Caaatttt, say something!"

"Celia left fifteen minutes ago and should be home soon. I think she said something about hitting the beach tomorrow-" I said, cut off by Zander's best friend for life halting, dropping his playfulness.

"Bye. It was nice knowing you two, see you later!" With a curt wave, Patrick solemnly marches out the room and the familiar sound of the security system beeps at his departure.

"I'm changing the passcode, right now," Zander but out, taking meaningful strides towards the door but completely stops at my words.

"I thought you wanted to break the couch in?"

"I thought you said, we can't break things we sit on," Zander grumbled, raising a questioning brow.

Shrugging my shoulders, I turn on my heel. "Suit yourself."

It only takes a fraction of a second before I'm lifted off the ground squealing and a few more moments for our clothes to litter the floor, the heat of our bodies taking over all rational thought.

*************

~C&P Side Story~

Chuckling to myself, I hope Cat and Zander have managed to have a steamy evening. I loved teasing my best friend since her expressions were priceless and adorable.

I'm almost home as a driver drops me to a curb near my new place. Cat wasn't the only one with a new home - I had to relocate since it was no secret that me and her are friends.

And with the press, people we know, and Patrick and me somehow in a fake relationship that's become something real, I couldn't risk staying at my home and moved out to a high rise in the heart of the city.

It made matchmaking way easier and I loved the nightlife. Not to mention, how many connections I've made since coming into my new place. With a new assistant and better resources, scouting undercover has been easier and more thorough.

Thanking the driver, I step out onto the sidewalk where a familiar body enveloping me latches onto my back.

"Patrick!" I exclaimed, swerving around to give him a proper hug.

"Celia! It's nice to finally be greeted properly compared to the cold reception I got from Zander," he grumbled.

Taking his face into my hands, I search his features before giving his head a shake and smacking his forehead. "You did what? Those two need as much alone time as possible!"

Lowering my hands, he gives me a defensive look. "I know they don't move as fast as we do, but I didn't know I was walking into anything...errr...important."

"Wouldn't you like to know," I muttered, frowning.

"Hey! You know what I do want to know? About this beach trip you're taking tomorrow."

"My, what?" I asked stupefied.

"Cat said you were...oh. Oh, I get it. She did that to get rid of me. Damn. I totally bought that."

"You came all this way because you wanted to know about a trip to the beach?" I questioned with a laugh.

"You mean, no new bathing suit?"

Raising a pointed brow, I cross my arms. "For you to ogle?"

"The word you're referring to, is appreciate."

"No, not unless you want to go," I offered shyly, taking his hand and walking.

"Yeah, that'd be nice but if you bring up Desmond Barnes even once, you're swearing to an engagement."

"It's not my fault! We landed him as a client and we can't miss a chance to match him up! And I'm too young to get married. Come back to me in seven years and I'll say, yes."

Chuckling, Patrick shakes his head. "You'll make me wait seven years while Desmond basically gets married in less than two."

"Seriously? Is everything a competition?"

"No, but I don't like being second to him."

Rolling my eyes, I link our arms as the sidewalk crowds with people passing by. The night breeze is calm and warm, the temperature perfect and it reminds me of how much I love the city when it's not smothered by smog.

"Seven years..." Patrick groaned.

"Not a bad number."

"Seriously?"

Smiling, I tilt my head to look up at him. "I could have said ten or twelve."

"Wow, lucky me," Patrick said narrowing his eyes with a frown.

"Should I make it eight, Mr. Greene?"

"No."

"You could just break this all off, find someone new," I whispered with good humour.

This all started off as a farce, a ruse to help our friends and somehow we're now neck deep into things where real feelings have been caught into the thick of all our pretending.

So much has unfolded in the past year with both our murky dating histories being thrown into the mix alongside our own growing feelings.

We've both fought like cats and dogs, have had eyebrow raising stories involving going undercover for matchmaking, a crazy vacation involving all my uncles, and Patrick's grandmother.

"Don't even joke about something like that."

"But you-"

"That's not an option. Not now or ever."

"But we started off..."

"Who cares. We're going to that beach tomorrow and I'm gonna propose, and you're going to act all surprised," he concluded, his face hardening.

"And if I say, no?" I breathed.

Sighing, Patrick gives me a small smile. "Then I guess, I'll just have to ask you in seven years."

"Mmm, maybe you don't have to wait that long?" I said lightly after a pause.

"What?"

Grinning at his surprise, I let go of his arm and start walking quicker but he runs up next to me in no time.

"What do you mean?"

"Maybe you can beat Desmond, after all," I continued lightly, not looking him in the eye.

"What?"

"Maybe, I accept your proposal and we can finish it off in three years?"

"What? I told you that's not an option! I'm not breaking-"

"Patrick. I mean, let's get married in three years."

"Oh."

"Unless of course, you'd like me to find you a match?"

"Why would-"

"Not that I would let that happen," I finished, breezily.

"Oh."

"Just promise me, one thing."

"Anything."

"Just don't get on your knees and proclaim that you love a woman with hair," I said tapping his upper arm lightly in a 'there, there' gesture.

He relieves that painful moment at the masquerade party and groans but not before his face alights. "At least that night ended well for me."

Gawking, I give him a pointed look. "Yeah, that makes one of us. My poor dress..."

"Look, I tried really hard not to ruin it but that zipper was an interference, and what could I do when you were coming on that strong?"

"Me? You're the one who came onto me!"

"No, you did."

"No, it was you!" I huffed.

Shaking his head, Patrick leans in further."Noooo, you."

"If it was me, my dress wouldn't be ruined!"

"Oh, like my bow tie made it out in one piece?" He asked, mimicking my voice.

"They aren't the same!"

"Why don't we go and test this out? Let's see who has more restraint."

"Fine. Prepare to lose."

"Gladly and more than willing too."

Stomping back in the direction from where we came, I shake my head at how ridiculous we sound and act. But I guess he's my perfect match that way - an idiot, just for me who keeps me on my toes.

I just hope everyone else out there manages to run into their match or find the right matchmaker willing to set them up.

Will it be a happy ending? Who knows.

***********

END OF EPILOGUE.