The Matchmaker by Aisha Saeed
A society matchmaker realizes she’s in danger when her clients' weddings are sabotaged in increasingly disturbing ways—an utterly original mystery from New York Times bestselling author Aisha Saeed.Nura Khan is a third-generation matchmaker in Atlanta and business has never been better. Her exclusive clientele benefits from her impeccable track record. And while a single thirty-one-year-old matchmaker would normally raise some perfectly threaded eyebrows in the community, Nura's childhood best friend Azar is willing to double as her pretend fiancé at her clients’ weddings—as long as Nura is able to hide that her feelings for him might not be so pretend.But Nura quickly learns that all that glitters isn’t gold. While it’s not uncommon to get the occasional hate mail from rejected prospective clients, after a couple’s carefully constructed wedding implodes, Nura is blindsided by a cascading chain of increasingly terrifying events and realizes someone is taking things too far. With Azar by her side, Nura embarks on a dangerous cat-and-mouse game that threatens not only her safety but everything she's worked so hard to build.
The bride beams for the cameras against a backdrop of blood-red roses framing the wedding stage. Her newly minted husband stands by her side in a cream sherwani and matching turban. She's in a golden lengha, hand-stitched with one thousand and one diamonds that shimmer beneath the lights. One could genuinely mistake them for royalty.
She scans the wedding hall. Every detail has been carefully arranged, from the long-stemmed moth orchid centerpieces to the twelve-layer wedding cake designed by Bontemps's very own head pâtissière. Her eyes land on mine.
The crowd parts like the Red Sea as she and her husband make their way toward me.
"You made it!" she exclaims.
"I wouldn't miss it for anything," I tell her. "Your vows were beautiful, and you look gorgeous." I gesture to the ballroom. "This is all a dream come true."
"Because of you." She pulls me into a tight embrace.
"She's right. Thanks, Nura." Her husband smiles at me.
The crowd that's been edging ever closer gasps. I've gone from just another of the seven hundred guests here to Nura Khan, matchmaker.
The bride beams for the cameras against a backdrop of blood-red roses framing the wedding stage. Her newly minted husband stands by her side in a cream sherwani and matching turban. She's in a golden lengha, hand-stitched with one thousand and one diamonds that shimmer beneath the lights. One could genuinely mistake them for royalty.She scans the wedding hall. Every detail has been carefully arranged, from the long-stemmed moth orchid centerpieces to the twelve-layer wedding cake designed by Bontemps's very own head pâtissière. Her eyes land on mine.The crowd parts like the Red Sea as she and her husband make their way toward me."You made it!" she exclaims."I wouldn't miss it for anything," I tell her. "Your vows were beautiful, and you look gorgeous." I gesture to the ballroom. "This is all a dream come true.""Because of you." She pulls me into a tight embrace."She's right. Thanks, Nura." Her husband smiles at me.The crowd that's been edging ever closer gasps. I've gone from just another of the seven hundred guests here to Nura Khan, matchmaker.
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