<b>Chapter </b><b>431 </b>
Mirabe <b>tucked </b>a stray lock of <b>hair </b>behind <b>her </b>ear. Her eyes, soft and deep like a <b>peach </b><b>orchard </b><b>in </b>bloom, held <b>a </b>teasing glint. “Every woman’s dream guy, you know, <b>doesn’t </b>that <b>only </b>exist <b>in </b>fairytales<b>.</b><b>” </b>
<b>Zach </b>sighed. Ah, the sting of truth knows no bounds.
<b>Soon </b>enough, they arrived at the designated matchmaking spot in the park. It was an alfresco setting, with rows of <b>pic </b>tables spread out under the open sky. Each table was <b>adorned </b>with an array of candies, pastries, and beverages that gave the ce a rather
festive look.
Naturally, it being a grand matchmaking <b>event </b>meant quite a few hopeful bachelors and bachelorettes were milling about.
“Zach, good luck, buddy. I’ll be over there at the back on one of the park benches waiting for you,” Mirabe said, patting Zach on the shoulder with a smile.
Zach gave her a deadpan look in response.
DO NO NON SE 2 0 0 + 20
With a sly smile, Mirabe turned, walked away to a park bench at afortable remove from the matchmaking melee, and sat down.
Momentster, she could still feel the weight of Zach’s soulful puppy–dog gaze. Deciding to ignore Zach’s looks, Mirabe bowed her head and pulled out her phone to fire up a
game.
Meanwhile, Wyatt had just parked his car at the lot outside the park. He gripped the steering wheel as he peered through the windshield towards the park’s grand entrance. “Boss, this is the ce Donald texted us about.”
James squinted outside before promptly opening the car door and stepping out.
Wyatt followed suit, scanning the surroundings for any signs of suspicion. Finding none, he took out his phone and dialed a number while speaking, “I’m gonna try Donald’s number again.., Yeah, it’s still going to voicemail.”
Pocketing his phone again, Wyatt looked over at James. “Should we head into the park to look for him?”
James responded with a nonchnt hum and started towards the park entrance.
Wyatt quickly caught up and purchased two tickets, only to be greeted by the ticket seller’s chuckling question. “So, youds here for the singles‘ mixer too?”
Wyatt paused, puzzled. “What singles‘ mixer?”
The ticket seller gave him a look that said, e off it, son.” “Oh,e on, if you weren’t
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here <b>for </b><b>the </b><b>mixer</b><b>, </b>why <b>else </b><b>would </b><b>you </be <b>to </b>this older folke‘munity park?<b>” </b>
Wyatt was bbergasted.
The seller <b>nced </b>at Wyatt, understanding his predicament, but then his gaze shifted <b>to</b>, <b>James</b>, <b>and </b><b>his </b>brow furrowed in confusion. Did such a good–looking young man need to <b>attend </b>a mixer to find a <b>date</b><b>? </b>
Shaking his head, the ticket seller added, “Better get moving. The event’s already started. Anyter, and all the good catches will be snatched up.”
Wyatt felt a twitch at the corner of his mouth. “No, see, you’ve got it all-” He stopped midway, thinking better of it. There was no point in exining.
Wyatt gave his boss a look, and soon they were inside the park..
Not far in, Wyatt’s mind began to race. “Boss, from what the old man at the gate said, there’s some dating event happening here. And with Donald suddenly messaging you toe… He wouldn’t be setting you up for this, would he?”
Knowing Donald’s twisted sense of humor, it wasn’t out of the question.
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As James stopped, Wyatt paused as well, pondering for a few seconds. “How about this? You go back and wait in the car, and I’ll go check it out?”
“No, no, no, we’re not here for that,” Wyatt hastened to rify, shaking his head vehemently. He had ns to y matchmaker for James and Ms. Mirabe, and there was no room for misunderstandings.