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Matched: A Protector Insta Love Romantic Suspense

Matched: A Protector Insta Love Romantic Suspense

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Synopsis

Third-year medical student Nora Bornstein is over her mom's endless matchmaking attempts. No single Jewish boy of any age in the closest six metropolitan areas has convinced Nora to change her life's ambition from 'doctor' to 'wife.'

Enter Barack Perez who claims to be a good Jewish boy from New York. He says he’s an out-of-work cook, but he might be an international super spy for Mossad.

Nora's not sure, but she's finally met her match.

Good news: No more bad dates because he's the ONE. Bad news: He's either unemployed . . . or James Bond.

Chapter One Look Inside

When Nora Borenstein got home from her study session at the med school library, her mother was in her living room and full of disapproval.

“Mom, hey. What are you doing here?”

“You didn’t return my text messages. I was worried something had happened.”

“Mom, you know this. I’m either in the hospital, on call, or at the library. I keep my phone on silent while we study.” Nora checked her phone. There were six missed texts.

“No wonder you can’t find a husband if you spend every minute of your time studying!”

Nora rolled her eyes. “We’ve talked about this before. I’m a medical student. I need to study.”

“I don’t see why. You have a degree from the University of Michigan. You can get a job. You can be a mother. You don’t need to live at the hospital.”

“Mom, I am not getting married right now. I want to establish my career and not get married until then.” Nora was getting tired of repeating this conversation again.

“You don't want to get married?” Ruth didn’t sound like she understood. “What about the gentleman from last week? He said he found you charming.”

“He was from Rio de Janero. He was divorced three times and was fifty!”

“So what if he was experienced?”

“He has grandchildren! Then when you shoved me outside with him, he tried to touch my butt. I kicked him in the shin.” Nora wished that was the worst fix-up she’d been subjected to. Ever since Judah Weiss matched into his general surgery program and came out as gay, her mother became increasingly desperate.

“Then consider the nice men from the Yeshiva.” Her mom revisited the local boy’s high school.

“Do I look like Mrs. Robinson? They’re five years younger than me! Some of them don’t even shave!”

“Then why won’t you consider Judah Weiss!”

“Because he’s gay, Mom.”

“He could change his mind!”

“You don’t pick those things and you don’t change your mind because your mom wants you to! You have to stop. This can’t go on.”

“I don’t know what you want, Nora. None of your sisters were like this. You can’t find a match because you rejected everyone else. I had to visit every synagogue in the city to find these choices. You’re lucky to even get these options. What else do you want?”

“I want right now to finish my schooling to become a doctor. Plenty of Orthodox women do it,” Nora said.

“No, they don’t.”

Nora took a few seconds to bite her tongue. Couldn’t her mother and Raj have it out about the who-is-who Orthodox Jewish geography of the hospital? Her mom would have difficulty denying Shira Feldsher was legit, as she was a legend in and out of the synagogue.

Heck, Nora had even heard there was a female Sephardic Jewish resident who had kids at MetroGen.

But why bother with logic or the truth when you could hound your daughter into matrimony?

“I want to save lives. I’m done with this. The hook-ups, the matches, the looking at the shrubs. No more.”

“Are you like Judah Weiss?” her mother was shell-shocked.

“NO! I’m not a lesbian. I’m a FEMINIST! There is more to life than getting married.”

“You think that now, but you’re wrong. No one wants to marry a woman who sleeps in the hospital with a group of men.” Her mother tried changing tactics.

“Those are our ‘callrooms!’ There are sixteen people in each room. No one is having sex!” Nora yelled at her mother. “You weren’t worried about that when I was in college!”

“You’re twenty-four, you should be getting married! It will be too late soon!”

“Then I’ll die alone.” Nora rubbed her eyes. “Mom, I can’t do this anymore. I want you to leave. Give me my key back, or I’m changing my locks.”

“What?”

“Mom, I love you, but I am done. I don’t want to date anyone. I’m spending the holidays away from you. Spend them with your other six children and those grandbabies you love so much!” Nora shouted, feeling like an angry teenager.

“You wouldn't!”

“I will. I am going to spend Rosh Hashanah, Yom Kippor, and Sukkot elsewhere. Anywhere else but at your table where you’ll throw yet another loser at me!”

“But it’s tradition!” One would have thought that Nora had just announced she was becoming a Christian or a barefoot nudist. That was hearsay of the highest order.

“New tradition. I will be celebrating, just not with you. Now leave.” Nora had had it. She picked up her mother’s keys, removed the spare, and handed them over.

“My daughter! What will I tell your father?” her mother cried, and Nora opened the door.

“The truth. That I have a 0600 shift tomorrow and need to get some sleep.” Nora ushered her mom out in the hallway.

She slammed the door closed and rested her forehead on it. HaShem spare her meddling mothers and every single person on their quest to marry her off.

****
“Was that necessary?” Barak Perez’s twin sister, Abigail Molla, hissed after Shabbat lunch.

“What? Me?” he said, tucking his hands behind his head. “I didn't do anything.”

“You have been here for eight weeks and you have scared off eight different eligible women,”

“It was getting boring, so I decided to liven it up.” Barak stood, unfailingly amazed how his sister was almost half a foot shorter than him despite sharing a womb.

“You were alone for five minutes. Five! How could you have been bored?”

“Well, she was twenty-one and wanted to talk about her one trip to Israel. And her religious school. And how much time I was spending studying at the Yeshiva in Jerusalem.” Since Barak had finished his service in Israel, he was taking advantage of his United States citizenship to seek a new start.

“What did you say to her?” Abigail asked.

“It wasn't that big of a deal. We had a small discussion about the difficulty of beheading someone,” Barak grinned wickedly. “Don’t worry, I told her I saw it on Game of Thrones.”

“You are the worst. You say you moved here because you want to settle down, and then you deliberately scare them off. I’m going to run out of sweet, innocent girls,” Abigail said.

“Then find me one who isn’t so sweet. One that has a brain. And grit. And chutzpah."

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