I couldn’t wait to meet him, to alleviate some of this pent up desire and emotion that threatened to turn me into a crazy woman if I didn’t do something about it.
And like that, on my back with the letters in my hands, I fell asleep.
But I slept dreamlessly until the next morning when sunlight and the doorbell woke me from my slumber.
It was the courier again, returning with the letter that would tell me where I was going to meet Double Team.
Macy was the only one already awake, she was dressed impeccably of course, and was reaching for the bright red envelope when I ran into the foyer.
I rushed past her and grabbed it out of the courier’s hand, surprising all of us at the speed of my arrival.
“I’ll take this, thank you,” I said with a grin. “Do you need to stay for a reply?”
The courier looked half bored today, shifted from one foot to the other and said, “No. I was told you’ll know exactly where to go once you read the letter.”
“Tip him,” I told Macy and turned to practically sprint back to my bedroom.
My hands were trembling as I held the red envelope. I took one selfie with the letter for the sake of any potential social media stories, and set my phone down.
I opened the envelope at last, and found a luxurious thick golden envelope inside.
I knew immediately this meant money, something high end. These were the kinds of envelopes reserved for the most exclusive VIP invitations.
My interest was even more piqued.
I wasn’t looking to marry just for money, god knows I had enough of my own, but finding a man who could support himself was appealing in a way.
I’d spent more than enough money helping Nick with his career during our on and off again relationship these past couple years.
I was tired of being seen as a wallet instead of a woman.
With a man who could afford invitations and events like this, I could relax and let him handle things for once.
I slid the envelope open and pulled the invitation out.
It was embossed with elegant gold letters on thick, hand crafted expensive paper.
It read:
Ms. Tweets A Lot.
Please may I request the pleasure of your company this coming Saturday night for the social event of the year. The Night of a Thousand Bonfires in New York City.
You will be my VIP guest. Upon arrival, announce yourself to the concierge and you will be shown to our private lounge.
I look forward to meeting my match.
Sincerely,
Double Team
I didn’t think there could have been a more perfect place for me to meet somebody, and obviously Grace Graham knew what she was doing.
Double Team already seemed like the perfect fit, and I’d always wanted to go to this event but it was invite only and notoriously difficult to get inside.
Even if he and I weren’t a match, I would have one hell of a story to post about.
Something that might help me reclaim my number one spot on Instagram.
But maybe, and just maybe, I would find more.
Maybe I would find love.
* * *
“What do you mean we’re going to New York?” Sophie asked when I called her.
I mean who even called anymore? But I needed to hear her voice. She was back in LA working on a photoshoot for a men’s fitness magazine.
She was one of the best photographers in the business and she was getting better with each contract.
I was so wildly proud of her.
“I mean we’re going to New York City. We got an invite to the Bonfires.”
She shrieked so loud I had to hold the phone away from my ear.
“Are you kidding me? Oh my god, that event is like…impossible to get into!”
“I know, but I got an invite.”
I hesitated at first to invite her, but I couldn’t go alone. It was too unsettling, and I figured Double Team would understand.
“How did you manage that?” she asked. I heard her cover the phone with her hand and talk to somebody in the background.
“You’re busy. Let’s talk about this on the flight there.”
“I’m sorry. I have to take advantage of the light here on the beach. What are we flying?”
“We’ll take my jet. I’ll text you the details.”
“Sounds good. I can’t wait…this is so exciting. Did you hear who’s headlining? Signal Pyre. I love him!”
“I didn’t know, but I love his music too. But one more thing,” I said before we ended our call.
“What is it?”
“You can’t tell anyone. Only Macy knows. I’m telling the rest of the group that I’m going to New York with you for a family thing.”
“Okay. But now I’m even more intrigued. I can’t wait to hear all about it.”
With that, we ended the call and I looked around my bedroom. I had a lot of packing to do.
And shopping.
I’d need to go shopping when I got back to LA. There was no way I could wear anything I owned on such a monumental date.
The music from the pool deck thumped deep bass against my wall and I closed my eyes thinking of the big moment just a couple days from now.
It felt surreal, almost like I was living somebody else’s life.
For years I’d lived in front of the camera, online and publically. Every aspect of my life had been put online for my fans to watch and observe.
This was all mine though. Doing it the old fashioned way had kept me offline and kept this little thrill of potential love all to myself.
I felt almost selfish with it, like I wanted to guard my secret and keep it close to my chest.
But I supposed it was my secret and I had every right to keep it to myself.
The possibility of love made it seem as if I spoke it, it would float away into the air like a wisp of smoke.
And I wasn’t ready to lose it just yet.
Chapter Four
I filled Sophie in on the plane.
She couldn’t believe that her suggestion had actually worked.
“Thanks,” I said when she confessed it to me. “So you sent me in as what, and experiment?”
“Maybe,” she grinned. “If it works for you then I’ll give it a go.”
“So glad I can be your guinea pig,” I laughed.
We took a car to the hotel where I’d reserved the penthouse suite for a few nights.
Sophie came from a pretty well off family, unlike myself, so she would expect nothing but the best from me.
And I didn’t mind. After making my first million, I’d started squirreling away most of my money, paid off my parent’s bills, and had rarely spent much on myself.
Until lately.
Something had clicked in me last year and I’d decided fuck it, I was going to have fun with my earnings.
The hotel suite was a reflection of that.
“Are you sure we have to meet him there?” Sophie asked me, coming out of the guest bathroom. “It seems sketchy to me.”
“That’s what it said,” I replied and held up the gold embossed invitations. “Besides, if he turns out to be a total dud at least we’re at the Bonfires.”
“Good point,” Sophie grinned and tugged on her ear as she brushed her dark hair behind it.
We called the penthouse suite private concierge to arrange for a car service and took the glass elevator down to the street level.
We met the car there, and once inside I felt as if I could barely breathe.
“How are you this nervous?” Sophie asked. “You shared what, five letters?”
“I don’t know! It’s weird, isn’t it? But we poured our hearts out to each other. I feel like I already know him in a way. Maybe it’s trusting Grace, or maybe it’s the fact that I read his letter and saw his handwriting. It feels more personal somehow.”
“Grace does seem pretty badass. She talked the whole service up like crazy. And her success rate is throug
h the roof.”
“That’s good to know,” I replied, musing to myself about how successful this match up might be.
“Well, all I care about it that you’re happy,” Sophie said. “And we have VIP tickets to Bonfires.”
“Ah, my happiness, then VIP tickets? Nice to know I rank so high in your world,” I teased her.
She laughed and we finished getting ready before calling a car service to take us downtown to the biggest event of the year.
And possibly the biggest night of my life.
* * *
“Right this way, ladies,” a girl in a gold sequined gown told us and gestured for us to follow.
VIP had its privileges. We cruised right past the huge line up of people dying to get in, well, I did stop for a few selfies with the most devoted and vocal of my fans.
I showed the invitation to security and they waved us through.
After that we were taken right to the concierge who handled everything. We were given our coat check ticket and patted down for security purposes.
“Now that might be the most action I get all night,” Sophie whispered in my ear as we walked. She glanced back at the smoking hot, muscled security guard and he shot her a knowing grin. “Oh my god, maybe not,” she added and we giggled together.
She looked amazing in a clingy, black silk Vera Wang with knee high boots and her hair on point.
Her makeup was perfect too, thanks to me.
I was wearing a new designer, an up and comer from Soho who had sent me a specially designed dress for me to wear on my Instagram account.
I’d already been photographed wearing it, had given the designer her props, and didn’t feel guilty getting a gown worth several thousand dollars for free.
Such was the life of an influencer, with my millions of followers seeing her dress, she would make a hundred times more than she’d spent on my dress just from online sales alone.
The girl in the golden gown stopped and unclipped a velvet rope to the side of the raised DJ booth and said, “Here you are. There is already a bottle of champagne on ice, would you like anything else to drink for the moment?”
“We’ll stick with champagne,” Sophie said and her eyes widened when we saw the bottle.
Fifteen hundred dollars a pop, my date wasn’t being cheap with me tonight. I liked that.
We slid around the table and settled in at the back. It offered the perfect view of the dance floor and the DJ booth. Soft lights and velvet drapes covered the walls of the private lounge and I felt like a VIP as people walked past, trying to get a look inside to see who was there.
The music in the club stopped as we were sipping our champagne, and the crowd went absolutely wild as a man in a motorcycle helmet lined with glowing neon lights stepped up to the DJ booth. The neon lights flickered and danced like flames and everybody immediately knew who he was.
“New York City, are you ready to party?” he yelled into the mic and I thought I was going to lose my hearing from the roar of the crowd.
“Oh! My! God!” Sophie shrieked beside me. “That is Signal Pyre! He is the hottest DJ in the world right now! I can’t believe this, this is the best night ever! Thank you, Blythe, thank you!”
“Thank you for setting me up,” I replied and watched as the DJ began to play music. He was dressed in a well-tailored expensive suit with a white t shirt under the jacket.
It glowed in the black lights, giving off a really cool effect when combined with the neon lights on his mask.
“Nobody knows who he is,” Sophie said, noticing how intently I was watching the DJ.
I was watching him intently though, his body was gorgeous. He pulled off his suit jacket and I swear I gasped, but luckily the noise hid the sound.
He was ripped, with muscled arms that bulged as he worked the electronics in front of him.
He danced to the techno beats and I couldn’t help but be mesmerized by his seductive swaying rhythm.
He was good, it was if the music caught him up and played through his body, ever cell, every bone, every thread of sinew weaving the melody of the song.
“I’m going to dance,” Sophie said and stood up. “I’ll leave you here to meet your future husband.”
I smiled, nodded and watched her go. I was too caught up staring at the DJ to noticed when I got company.
“You must be Ms. Tweets a Lot,” a deep, powerful male voice said from beside me.
I whipped around and found myself staring into the most beautiful dark green eyes I’d ever seen.
It was magical, and I had to admit it. Grace had done her job, and done it well.
“Yes,” I said breathlessly and stood for a hug. “Double Team?”
“In the flesh,” he said in my ear and I couldn’t tell if the throbbing I felt in my chest was from my racing heart or the bass of the music.
Either way it didn’t matter, the chemistry was instant and I couldn’t wait to learn everything there was to know about my match.
First things first, though.
His name.
Chapter Five
“Harrison,” he said in my ear.
The best thing about the music was that it was so loud we had to speak right next to each other’s ears, which meant we were practically cheek to cheek the entire time we spoke.
“Blythe,” I replied.
“That’s very old fashioned,” he said and I felt a little like an old woman suddenly. But I perked right up when he continued, “I like it. It’s perfect for you.”
“Thanks,” I said. “I like Harrison too.”
“Thanks,” he grinned. He leaned forward and drew his finger along my forearm, sending little shockwaves of electric energy up and down my skin. “Now, Blythe, I want to know everything there is to know about you.”
His smile was warm and sincere, his eyes were brilliant and his hair was dark. It wasn’t really long, just slightly shaggy. Perfect to run my fingers through, if we ever got to that point.
And oh, I could almost feel my fingers in his hair now.
He had broad shoulders, his white tee shirt strained from the size of his thick muscles, and he possessed a wolfish self confidence that tied the entire sexy package together.
We talked and sipped champagne, and after half an hour or so I did something I’d never done before.
I leaned forward and gave him a peck on the lips.
Well, on the edge of his mouth.
I didn’t know what had prompted me to do it, he and I just had such amazing chemistry, I couldn’t help myself.
I pulled back, surprised by my own action, and even more surprised when Harrison reached up and put his hand on the back of my head.
And leaned in, locked his eyes on mine and said, “That wasn’t a kiss, Tweets, this is a kiss.”
And his lips crashed into mine, soft and demanding at once. Hot and hungry, I parted mine and let his tongue slip in.
My stomach quivered with the sensation of his mouth on mine.
He ran his hand down the back of my neck and rested it on the small of my back. I felt heat radiate out from his touch until it seemed to soak into my core, melting my normally flighty exterior.
I softened for him, I lost the tension I generally carried around with me. The tension that came from living online and knowing everybody was watching me at all times.
With Harrison in the VIP lounge, I didn’t care who saw.
I didn’t care if anyone took pics, tagged me on Instagram, talked about it, made it go viral…fuck, I didn’t care.
It felt amazing to be with him, to know that our connection was real. Grace had sensed something in him and knew it would click with me perfectly.
The magic of the old fashioned matchmaker had woven her spell and entwined around the two of us, keeping us inside of some kind of bubble.
“I feel like my legs are going to fall off!” Sophie’s voice burse that bubble and brightly hit my ears.
I broke away from Harrison and looked behind me, she was weaving to
the music with flushed cheeks and bright eyes.
“Oh wait, did I?” she said and clued in.
I was basically sitting on his lap and his hand was still on my back possessively.
“Oh my god, I did! I’m sorry,” she said and laughed. She was too tipsy to be truly sorry though.
“It’s okay,” I replied, sliding along the banquet from Harrison. I figured as long as I wasn’t pressed up against him, I could behave myself.
“I’m Sophie,” she said and flopped down next to me, leaned over and extended her hand.
“Harrison,” he said, taking Sophie’s hand and shaking it lightly.
“I like him,” she said, taking it back and looking at me with her eyebrows up.
“I’ll leave you two to talk about me, I’ll be right back,” Harrison said. He kissed me quickly and slid along the banquet to the other side of the table and stood.
I watched as he stretched, I admired his lean, muscled body and watched the rippling of his tattoos playing on his flesh.
I hadn’t paid much attention to them until just then, I’d have to ask him about their meaning when he got back.
“He’s hot!” Sophie said as I watched him walk away. His stride was long and confident, he swaggered without making it look like a swagger.
And that ass, all tucked into those tight jeans.
“Damn, I know,” I giggled.
We leaned in together and I told her everything about him that I wanted to share.
Including the magic of that first kiss.
“I’m so sorry I broke it up,” she said. “The DJ took a break though, so I needed to come rest my feet and refuel.”
She held up a champagne flute and we poured ourselves some more.
I had drained several glasses at that point and the bubbles had gone right to my head.
Harrison returned as the DJ started up again, he held his hand out and said, “Blythe? Let’s dance.”
“I’ll leave you to her,” Sophie said and got out of the way so I could take Harrison’s hand and join him on the dance floor.
The music started up, a throbbing beat that was low and sensual.
Dear Double Team: The Matchmaker Series Page 2
