The Matchmakers

TWENTY SIX

"IF WE'RE GOING TO DO this I don't want you talking to Keefe anymore."

Sophie glared at her fiance, the official looking papers scattered across the table before her forgotten in her sudden bout of righteous indignation. "You don't get to dictate who I talk to."

"I'm not messing around here, Sophie," Fitz said, taking his hand and rubbing it over his face. "If we're going to have any chance at making this work, we're both going to have to make sacrifices."

"I don't see you making any sacrifices, Fitz."

Fitz's eyes narrowed as he pushed a document across the table with a single finger, the movement both cocksure and overbearing. "You know what I mean."

"I'm not going to stop seeing Keefe," she said, pushing the document right back across the messy surface.

Fitz slapped the table and stood, violently throwing his chair back as he did. "I can't do this, Sophie. If I marry you, it's going to be for real. And Keefe...I can't control myself when I'm around him. Whenever he looks at you I just want to punch that stupid, dopey smile off his face! After seeing you kiss him...I just can't do it."

"Fitz."

"No!" he said. "How do I get it through your thick skull? You can't see Keefe."

"Well my thick skull thinks you're an egotistical ass."

"How would you feel if I had kissed Linh, huh?" Fitz demanded. "You'd be pretty pissed off, wouldn't you? You wouldn't want me to talk to her anymore, would you?"

Sophie raised an eyebrow. "Have you kissed Linh?" she asked.

Fitz's face hardened. "No."

But there was a pause.

Sophie didn't want to read into it. "Regardless," she said generously, "I'm not trying to stop you from seeing Linh. You're trying to keep me from Keefe just because I kissed him once."

"While we were engaged," Fitz tacked on, not at all bitterly.

Sophie rolled her eyes, scratching at the mud caked onto her hands. It had been a long enough day of chores without Fitz showing up just in time for dinner and demanding to talk to her before she ate. "Spare me the theatrics, Fitz. We both know this hasn't been a real relationship in a long time. I think it's best if we stay away from each other until the wedding."

She got up to leave, but paused at Fitz's next words.

"Keefe's asking questions," Fitz said without any ceremony.

Sophie's heart dropped. It was nice to know he cared enough to check up on her, make sure she knew what she was getting herself into, but...

"When doesn't he ask questions?" she shot back, ignoring his implications.

"I mean he's asking questions about our relationship. Asking Biana questions. About our scrolls, about the Council, about why we're still together. He's getting suspicious, and it's not going to be long before he figures it out. As much as I hate the guy, he's not stupid."

Sophie paused at that. Biana knew the truth. Biana was head over heels in love with Keefe. She'd do anything for Keefe. If Keefe got her to crack...

"We'll cross that bridge when we come to it," Sophie told him, sitting back down across from him. "Fitz, what did you really come here to say?"

Fitz pinched the bridge of his nose and leaned his head back, the picture of exasperation. "Can you please just sit down and hear me out without blowing up like a crazy person?"