Harte Strings: The Billionaire Matchmaker, Part Two (6 page)

I smiled, too, liking Austin more and more. Delighted to have a conspirator. “You’re positively diabolical.” I tapped the bottle and studied the label. “Is this any good?”

He shrugged. “Decent. Summery and fresh is how they market it. It’s made by a buddy’s brew house.”

“Sold.”

He opened it for me with a bottle opener behind the bar. “Glass?”

I’d noticed the men drinking directly from the bottle. I held my hand out for it. “No. Thank you.”

We strolled to the edge of the pool and took a seat with a small table near it where a plate of vol-au-vent sat surrounded by a fan of napkins.

“You wanted to know about the matchmaking process,” I said, and took a pull of my beer. “It’s simple, really. I get to know you and find out what kind of woman you’re looking for. Then I scour my pool of eligible women, very discriminatingly, looking for someone I think will be a great match for you.

“I give you her details and you take her out. Or, if you prefer, I set up the first meeting. I can even help you plan it. It’s all part of my job. What I’m paid for. You take her out on your date and see how it goes.”

He considered that a moment. “If I like her?”

“You ask her out again and let the relationship proceed naturally.”

“If I don’t?”

“I match you up again until we find one you do. I have a large pool of women to draw from.”

“You don’t always get it right?” He seemed genuinely interested in the answer. His tone was half teasing, half serious.

“Not always the first time. Matching is intuitive as much as anything. I use the criteria you give me. Sometimes, though, you don’t want what you think you want. And chemistry is unpredictable.”

He set his bottle on the table and grabbed an appetizer and napkin. “What if I like a match and she isn’t into me?” He seemed a little too casual, like he was facing a fear asking me this. “What if I ask her out again and she turns me down?”

“Sometimes it’s just a matter of chemistry. She doesn’t feel it and you do. Odd as it is to say, it’s nothing personal. You can’t force chemistry.

“I sometimes make the analogy of putting together a thousand-piece jigsaw puzzle. Some of the pieces look like they should fit. You try them. But they don’t. They aren’t a true match, is all. There’s another piece that will fit. You just have to find it, which may take some looking. The fact the first one didn’t doesn’t reflect badly on either the puzzle or the puzzler.”

He nodded, seeming to like my explanation. “True enough. But how will I know? Some women treat guys like shit. Just stop answering your texts. You get no feedback. Maybe I did something wrong. Maybe there was something I could have done better. Something I could have said. How will I improve?”

I flashed him my reassuring smile, liking him tremendously. “That’s what I’m here for. After each of the first few dates with the same person, and then periodically after that, I follow up with both parties to see how the date went. And later, how the relationship is going. If I get constructive feedback, I pass it along. If I see a pattern of behavior that isn’t helping your cause, we’ll work on correcting it before your next match.”

He was quiet, thinking. “So you’re as much our dating coach as anything?”

I nodded. “Or mentor. Or objective third party. I’m any and all of those things.”

“Dating postmortem.” He frowned and shifted in his seat. “That’s a lot of pressure.” He cleared his throat. “I’m not smooth with the ladies. That’s why I’m here.”

I touched his arm and gave it a reassuring squeeze. When I first started my business, I met all of my clients in a quiet corner of a restaurant. This setting reminded me of those early days. It was the perfect, relaxed way to get started. Thank you, Lazer.

“From what I can tell so far, you have nothing to worry about. You’re delightful. It might seem intimidating at first,” I said. “It’s hard to hear criticism about anything. Especially about something so personal. Don’t worry. We’ll quickly weed out any annoying habits you might have that turn potential mates off. Most things are minor and easily fixed. Like anything, dating gets easier with practice.

“I’ll be your buffer and sounding board any time you need me. And I mean any time. When my clients are out on dates, I’m available for emergency help. This will be fun. I promise.” I squeezed his arm again and reached for a shitake mushroom vol-au-vent. It was surprising how well it went with the lavender beer. Which really did have a hint of lavender-honey taste to it. “Tell me about yourself, Austin. What do you like to do? What are your hobbies?”

“Oh, well.” He blushed very faintly, obviously embarrassed, as if there was nothing interesting about him that I’d like to hear.

“Come on,” I said. “What are you hiding from me? A big, handsome man like yourself, I bet you have some interesting hobbies. Rec rugby? Hiking?”

He looked even more embarrassed. “Cosplay.” It was almost a whisper.

“Really?” I leaned toward him to show my interest. “What kinds of characters?”

“Oh, comic book and video game characters, mostly.”

“I can see you as Thor or Captain America.”

He shook his head. “Neither of them have red hair.”

“But I bet you could wield that hammer,” I said, stroking his ego.

“Maybe.” He paused and straightened his shoulders.

I prepared myself for a manly revelation.

“I like to fool around with swords, too. I have a collection.”

“Do you? Tell me about it!” My mind was racing with possible matches for him. I had one client who had a sort of phobia about knives and blades. She was definitely out. I tried to rack my brain for someone who also liked cosplay. At the moment, I was stumped. But I was sure there had to be someone.

We were having a pleasant discussion about double-sided broadswords when Cam joined our little chat. He was curious about the matchmaking process, too. Soon the conversation turned back to it. Before dinner was served, I had a very similar conversation with each of the men. Explaining the process and asking them about themselves.

They were so adorably eager to date and mate. All of them except Lazer. It seemed like he was always watching with a darkly amused look on his face. Leaving me to wonder just how well he’d fare when all of his friends were happily matched by me and married to their dream girls. While he was alone and lonely.

I didn’t like to think about that at all.

L
azer

My salmon was undercooked. I sent it back quietly, with a smile and whispered joke to the waiter, and asked for it to be put back on the grill until it wasn’t still swimming. I wasn’t in the mood for sushi tonight.

Jeremy’s salad had a bug in it. I saw him sneakily pick it out, flick it away when he thought no one was looking, and eat around the contaminated roughage. Dylan’s glass was dirty. He quietly pulled the waiter aside and asked for a new one. Austin’s vegetables were so heavily salted that he couldn’t eat them. He made a joke about slipping with the saltshaker, and asked for a new serving. Cam couldn’t seem to get the waiter’s attention. It was as if he were invisible.

This was not like my staff at all. In every other respect, the meal was delicious and perfectly prepared and served. I should have gone family style rather than plated. I’d wanted something nice for the first night. This was Ashley’s doing, I was sure. Only she and Lottie were immune to the mess-ups. She was testing my guys. I was damned proud of how they handled themselves with so much class and kindness. A few of them could have been more assertive. We’d work on that. I was going to have to give my staff a bonus for following Ashley’s orders. Then have words with them about never doing it again without cluing me in first and getting my approval.

The conversation over dinner was largely about the app. The guys were excited about it and showing off for Ashley, who seemed genuinely interested.

“We’ve been working on the job-finding part of the app,” Cam told her when she asked. “There are many good apps already on the market that help job seekers compare cities for career prospects, cost of living, quality of life, and cultural diversity. Most of them, though, only assess the top twenty-five or so cities. We want to include a wider spectrum.”

Ashley nodded. “How does Seattle compare?” She had an intense, highly focused way of looking at whoever was speaking that made him feel as if he was the most interesting guy on the planet.

She’d used that look on me. I wasn’t thrilled when she used it on my friends.

Dylan jumped in. “Very favorably. When you combine all factors, we’re at the top of the list.” He beamed at her. “This band of geeks may not be the biggest attraction, but you can count on Seattle not to let you down.”

Ashley’s smile always lit up her face in a way that made her simply irresistible and sexy as hell. Too few women smiled like that so readily.

“I imagine Seattle scored highly for quality of life.” She spread her arm around, encompassing the view. “With views of these mountains. Elliot Bay and Mount Rainier—”

“We came in dead last,” Austin said, nodding to make his point. “They don’t figure in the views or the hiking.” He scrunched his mouth to one side. “They look at things like number of sunny days, commute times, and rental vacancies. We fail on all counts.” He waved his hands as if warning Ashley away. “I wouldn’t mention those things to the Manhattan ladies.”

She laughed again and got a serious look on her face. “No. Definitely not. Not until you all have hooked the ones you want.”

“I hope you can tolerate drizzly days,” Jeremy said.

Ashley nodded. “They’re better than hot and humid. Or terribly snowy, I would think.”

“Much better! We get very little snow in the city,” Cam said.

“But when we do, the roads are terrible. They turn right to ice,” Dylan added. “Talk about horrible commute times. On snowy days, it can take hours to go a mile or two. When it snows, stay home.” He turned to Lazer. “We need to make that corporate policy. Work from home on snow days.”

Cam punched him in the arm. “Don’t tell her that. You’ll scare her off.”

The banter went on. I watched Ashley’s face. She seemed to be enjoying herself and delighted with the guys.

After dinner, we took a break before dessert.

I caught Ashley off guard. “What the hell did you do to my staff? They never mess up like they did tonight. How much are you paying them to crap all over their stellar reputations?”

She touched my arm lightly, leaned in, and whispered in my ear. “The real question is—how much are
you
paying them?”

She turned back to the guys, who were lingering at the table, talking among themselves. “Gentlemen, Austin pointed out to me that you all know each other well, but Lottie and I are in the dark. Is anyone up for an icebreaker?”

Damn. I hated icebreaker exercises. But I hadn’t been able to talk her out of them when we were planning this retreat. She said she needed to get to know the guys in a low-pressure, fun environment. In a setting where they were their authentic selves and not telling her what they thought she wanted to hear. Or thinking too hard on their answers. The guys tepidly applauded. I could read their minds pretty well—icebreakers were a silly waste of time. But they were too polite to say so, and too in love with Ashley already. She’d charmed them and taken them in completely.

I took my seat, determined to be a good sport and play along.

A
shley

The men had all been charming. I’d learned so much about them. And I’d been delighted with their performance at dinner. There wasn’t a woman in my match pool that I wouldn’t feel comfortable sending out on a date with one of them. They were all so polite and gentlemanly. Not one of them had railed at the staff or thrown their weight around. Violence and disregard for others shows itself in these mundane social situations.

For the life of me, I couldn’t figure out why Seattle women hadn’t snatched these guys up. Oh, yes, I knew that they weren’t currently the most perfectly groomed, hottest-looking guys in the city. (Wait until I got my makeover hands on them.) The competition was stiff for them out there in the Seattle dating scene. But in Manhattan, there would be a feeding frenzy, even if these four walked into a bar just as they were. They’d be married by next weekend. If they wanted to be.

If anything, I had to coach Jeremy to be more assertive. If you find a bug or a hair or anything that shouldn’t be in your salad, you have the perfect right to send it back to the kitchen and ask for a fresh one. Politely. Pleasantly. But there was no need to suffer. Even when you were a guest at a friend’s place.

We’d work on it. I’d seen one or two small things that could use improvement. But overall, this was a group of nice guys. Not that I was going to advertise their nice-guyness to my female clients and match pool.

Too many women had this idea that nice guys were dull and uninteresting. They went for the bad boys. Bad boys were hot and dangerous. Exciting. Which was all fine and good when one was young and just looking for a fling. When looking for a husband? Ladies, please, bad boys, as a rule, are not husband material.

Nice guys made the best mates, there were just no two ways about it. I was determined to give these guys just enough edge to attract the ladies. And then let their genuine niceness and sense of fun reel the women in.

I smiled at the men as one of the staff handed out pens and two stacks of note cards to each person. I had carefully planned this event.

“Okay, this is the way it’s going to work. I want each of you to write down one surprising or funny thing about each of the other people here, including me. Except for Lottie.” I glanced at her. We’d planned this in advance. “She’s going to be our referee and judge. She won’t be a participant as such.

“One thing per card, along with who it refers to. This should be something that only you know about them. But nothing, obviously, that will ruin your friendship with them. Nothing you’ve been sworn to secrecy about on penalty of death. Something fun and frivolous. Don’t give away a deep, dark secret that could ruin someone else’s life, obviously. Everything else is fair game.”

Lazer frowned. I wasn’t exactly a mind reader, but I was pretty sure he was thinking this was standard, boring icebreaker stuff.

“On the last card, write one thing about yourself that no one else knows. Again, it doesn’t have to be a dark secret. It can be as simple as you hate your mom’s homemade sweet pickles even though you’ve been pretending to love them for years.

“Keep all of the cards to yourself. Don’t let anyone else see. When you’re finished, turn the cards facedown and pass them to Lottie. She won’t recognize anyone’s handwriting, so she can be impartial and not give anything away.

“She’s going to rearrange the cards and read them one at a time. The second stack of cards you were handed has the name of each person here on one of the cards. When Lottie reads the question, select the name of the person you think it is and place it face down in front of you. We’ll all discuss our answers and then reveal them. The person with the most correct answers at the ends wins.”

Cam and Austin grabbed their pens and bent their heads, ready to start.

“Just to make this even more interesting,” I said, “we’re going to play in teams—me against all of you gentlemen.”

That got their attention. Lazer’s eyebrows shot up. I was trying to make a point. I had carefully worked the event all evening with the goal of getting to know them. Had they been doing the same and trying to get to know Lottie and me? And how well did they know each other?

Lazer shook his head. “How will that work?”

“I get five points for each of my correct answers. Each of you gets one point for each of yours.”

“What do the winners get?” Lazer stared at me with his darkly amused expression.

“The thrill of victory,” I said without missing a beat.

“Not good enough.” He stared me down.

The men had all gone silent, watching us spar.

I gestured toward the men. “What do you want?”

Lazer didn’t wait for them to answer. “If my team wins, each of us get a one-time pass on one of your dating rules.” He turned to his guys. “Huh? What do you think?”

“What are the rules again?” Austin frowned, clearly trying to remember them all.

Before I could reply, Lazer jumped in. “All you need to know is the most important one—no sex on the first date. With a recommendation to wait five dates or three months or until you’re exclusive.” He shook his head and did the upward glance.

I shook my head right back at him and rubbed one finger against the other at him. Naughty, naughty. “Those rules are for your own good. Created after watching my clients and their dating mishaps and misadventures over the years. Break them at your own peril. Do your really want to risk killing a relationship that is progressing nicely? You could lose
the one
.”

Lazer’s expression said he clearly wasn’t buying my explanation. “Just one pass. To take the pressure off.” He stared me down.

I was hard to intimidate. I’d had plenty of practice facing clients who wanted to bend the rules and still succeed at the game of love. I swore to myself. “This is an icebreaker, just a friendly competition.”

“Everything’s more fun if there’s a prize.” His answering grin was adorable and sexy.

I sighed. “And if I win?” I couldn’t believe I was even contemplating this.

“What do you want?”

He needs a cold shower.
I glanced at the pool. There was another great way to break the ice—seeing your leader dunked.

“We toss you into the pool fully clothed.” I crossed my arms.

The men hooted. I knew I’d chosen the right reward.

“Done.” Lazer jumped from his chair and extended his hand for me to shake on it.

I held up a finger. “If we’re playing for a prize, I have one condition. I get a handicap. Five answers.”

“Three.”

“Done.” I grabbed his hand and shook, heart pounding. “All right, then, let the games begin. Gentlemen, you have ten minutes.” I nodded to Lottie. “Start the timer.”

I jotted my responses down within minutes and looked around the group, laughing to myself at their concentrated, thoughtful expressions. I’d had the advantage of knowing about the game and thinking of my responses beforehand. But these men supposedly knew each other well. And had hopefully learned something about me. I was prepared for them to try to take an obvious, mundane response and spice it up. For example,
This person plays with matches every day
. Lazer particularly amused me. Several times he was about to put pen to note card, then backed off, and thought about it some more. What was he so unsure about sharing?

Finally, he wrote whatever it was down with such decision and force that I was afraid he was going to snap his pen and rip the note card through with his writing.

Lottie called time and collected the cards. Earlier I’d instructed her to sort through them and put the easy ones first. Which she did. We ran through those quickly. Lazer’s team got them all right. As did I. Judging from their expressions, my skill surprised them.

This was their first dating lesson—ask questions when you meet someone new. Show interest in them. And remember what they tell you. Those seemingly innocuous get-to-know-you questions I’d been asking all night? Yeah, you got it. To make a point.

“One of you dated a supermodel.” Lottie wiggled her brow, pointedly looking away from Lazer.

“That’s
easy
. When are we going to get to the interesting questions?” Cam shook his head as he slapped a note card down in front of him. “Couldn’t you guys come up with anything that wasn’t obvious?”

“What about you, Cam?” Austin said. “Why don’t you put your money where your mouth is?”

“My cards haven’t been read yet.” He nudged Austin. “Thought of that, smartass?”

The men turned over their cards one at a time—Lazer, Lazer, Lazer, even Lazer said Lazer. Until only Jeremy was left.

I smiled encouragingly at him. “Let me answer next, before Jeremy.” I flipped my card over with a flourish. “Jeremy, that’s your card. You dated a supermodel.”

Four men turned to stare at Jeremy, expecting him to deny it and tell me I was crazy. Instead, he grinned sheepishly. And, it must be said, with a certain amount of pride.

“What?” he said. “You guys think Lazer’s the only one with the moves? The only guy who gets the hot chicks?”

“You!” Cam shook his head. “We’ve known you since freshman year of college. When did you date a supermodel? First grade?”