"No, not even remotely," Anderson said sourly. "My family is so unicorn they could be a book of stereotypes. My parents are well-behaved and nice. They met when they were twenty, got married at twenty-one. They run the business my mother's family has owned for six generations, thanks to love and pride and loyalty. Go ahead and guess what the business is."
Lynn stared, looking torn between horror and amusement. "Please say matchmaking."
Anderson winced and drained the last of his mimosa as Lynn started laughing so hard he nearly slipped back into the water. "I hate you."
"Oh, god, this is gold. You're from a family of unicorn matchmakers." He set his flute down and bent double as he went back to laughing.
"Shut up," Anderson muttered.
"You must have fucking sucked as a matchmaker," Lynn finally said, gasping the words out between chuckles, wiping away tears of laughter. He retrieved his mimosa. "So how many clients did you sleep with?"