Love Bug (The Prescotts Book 3)

by Tara Wyatt

She took a sip of her water, licked her lips and continued. “Now, for a few housekeeping items. There are about 300 people in the beta test of this app, and you’re all Tapp employees. Please know that you’re under no obligation to find someone to date using this app—what we’re interested in is the functionality and the user experience. So yes, you will be matched with others, but you are certainly not expected to start dating your co-workers.” For the briefest second her eyes flashed up to Max and he felt it like a kick in the gut. He schooled his face into a neutral-erring-on-the-side-of-grumpy expression.

  “However, if you do start actually dating a co-worker, that’s okay, too. Just make sure you disclose your relationship to HR and fill out the necessary and oh-so-romantic paperwork. But again, no pressure. This test is about the app itself and how well it works, how easy it is to use. The beta test is going to run for the next ninety days, and when it’s over you’ll all be given detailed feedback forms to fill out. You can also provide feedback as we go at any time by emailing the address I mentioned earlier. We’ve got about half an hour set aside for questions, so if you’ve got one, type it into the chat box and I’ll do my best to get to as many as possible.”

  Max pulled his phone from his pocket, opened his email and searched for the link to the beta test, then downloaded the Blind Date app. He hadn’t looked at it for weeks now and was impressed with the product he saw in front of him. The app was responsive, sleekly designed, inviting. The icon was a navy blue square with the silhouette of two people in white, light blue blindfolds over their eyes as they appeared to lean in for a kiss. A gold heart rose up between them. He liked it—it was appealing, inclusive, and simple while still evoking the vibe of the app.

  He quickly filled out the basic profile information: male, age thirty-six, straight, living in Manhattan, interested in women twenty-eight to thirty-eight also in Manhattan. He skipped past the username portion. He’d been assigned BetaTestAccount23 and didn’t care to change it. It’s not like he was on here actually looking for matches. He was alone, and he planned to stay that way.

  The next screen pulled up the first question of the personality questionnaire and he closed the app. He’d fill it out later, when he had more time. He had to admit, he was curious about the questionnaire’s functionality and the algorithm used to map people’s answers.

  Willa continued to talk, answering questions about timelines, bug reporting, and others. And then, as she joked about being invited to any weddings born out of the Blind Date beta test, the contents of his stomach curdled. What if Willa, who no doubt was participating in the beta test herself, got matched with someone and fell in love?

  The thought was enough to make him briefly consider pulling the plug on the entire project. Enough to make him want to put his fist through the wall. Enough to make him want to fire whoever dated her.

  Which were all completely insane things that he obviously wouldn’t do. That he had no right to do, especially after the way he’d treated her. God, he really was a selfish prick, wasn’t he? He’d pushed her away because he had to, but he couldn’t stomach the idea of her with someone else either. It was as though he expected her to live in a romantic limbo forever. Given that she was twenty-nine, stunningly beautiful, smart, kind, warm, funny and so fucking amazing he almost couldn’t process it, she wasn’t going to stay single forever. Any man with half a brain would want her.

  He’d wanted her from the moment he’d met her, but he knew that she wasn’t meant for him. He was going to have to find a way to accept that. Somehow.

  6

  Willa couldn’t remember the last time she’d gone out clubbing with friends, and given how much she loved to dance, she was long overdue for a night out. Besides, she felt like celebrating. The beta launch had gone smoothly this morning, bug reports so far were minimal and Max had seemed…well, to be perfectly honest, he’d seemed bored. His eyes had been on his phone during most of the presentation, and while she’d told herself that he was probably just checking out the app, she’d still felt a little disappointed. His unexpected compliment had thrown her so off-kilter that she’d been expecting…more. But he’d just been quiet and reserved and impossible to read, as usual.

  She stood on the corner of East 58th and Madison Avenue with her friend and new roommate, Dorinda Dong, waiting for their friend Brandon and Willa’s brother Elliott, who she’d finally convinced to come out with them. After the home invasion, she’d stayed with Elliott for a couple of weeks before she and Kayla had moved into Theo’s old apartment, subletting it from him. But now Kayla was gone, having left for Lake Tahoe with her boyfriend Sebastian a week ago. It had worked out that their friend Dori, a librarian at the New York Public Library and underrated comedic genius, was on the hunt for a new place, and so they’d moved in together. However, if they wanted to stay at Theo’s old place past August, when the sublet was up, they’d probably have to find a third person to take the last bedroom. She made decent money, but not enough to cover a gorgeous three-bedroom apartment in Midtown. She wasn’t a trust fund kid with a law degree like Theo, after all.

  She spotted Brandon walking quickly toward them, his thick hair styled and perfectly in place despite the cool evening breeze. He wore a lilac-colored T-shirt and a pair of black leather pants, looking chic and put together as always. He worked at Saks and always had the coolest clothes. He saw them and waved, walking a little faster, his pristine white sneakers flashing.

  Her phone buzzed from inside her tiny clutch and she fished it out.

  “It’s Elliott,” she told Dori. “He’s running late.”

  “You know, if you hadn’t lived with him for a while, I’d think he was imaginary. Like Snuffleupagus.” Dori pushed her oversized glasses up her nose. She had her thick black hair down for once, and it looked really pretty, especially in combination with her silky black tank top, jeans, and ankle boots. Willa had opted for a lacy white crop top, a pair of skinny-legged black pants and simple black heels. She hadn’t been entirely sure how dressy to go for the club Brandon had suggested.

  “I know. He’s not the most social person. It’s why I keep trying to get him to come out with us.” Sometimes she swore he liked his woodworking tools more than people. He spent his days making custom furniture in Brooklyn and dragging him out of his shop was always a battle.

  “Love the crop top,” said Brandon, giving her an appraising look. “Wear it always. And Dori. Yes. To all of this. I love your hair like this. Did you get it cut?” he asked, leaning forward and taking a lock of Dori’s hair between his fingers.

  She shook her head. “No. I just used a blow dryer for once.” But from the smile on her face, Willa could tell she was pleased with Brandon’s compliment.

  Willa pulled Brandon in for a hug. “My brother’s running late, so why don’t we head inside and see if we can snag a table before they’re all gone?”

  Brandon nodded, and from the tilt of his mouth and the glint in his eyes, she could tell he was bursting at the seams to tell them something.

  “Spill it,” she said, shooting him a pointed look.

  He pressed his hands to his cheeks. “I’m having lunch with an agent tomorrow!”

  Willa smacked his arm. “What? That’s amazing! I didn’t know you were sending your book out! You didn’t tell us.”

  He smiled, looking chagrinned as they headed for the front door of the club. “I didn’t want to say anything in case nothing came of it.” Brandon was an aspiring writer and he’d spent the past year working on his novel, which Willa had read and loved. It was a beautifully written story about four gay men living in New York in the early 80s, just as the AIDS epidemic was starting to do its worst. It was funny and poignant and utterly devastating, all at once.

  “So we have a lot to celebrate tonight,” said Dori. “Willa’s beta launch, your meeting with an agent, my…okay, well I don’t have anything, but I’m happy to be a cheerleader tonight. My life’s pretty good right now, so I’m due to find some train wreck of a guy
to fuck me up.”

  They headed for the door where Brandon greeted the bouncer, who winked at him and let them in.

  “What about Elliott?” she asked, glancing over her shoulder at the line outside. If he thought he had to stand in line for even a second to get into a club he had no interest in, he’d be on the first subway back to Brooklyn.

  “His name’s on the list,” said Brandon, talking loudly over the thumping music. “He just has to talk to Devon, the bouncer.”

  She pulled her phone out of her clutch again and texted the info to Elliott. After living with him for a few weeks, she knew he was probably lonely but too set in his ways to do anything about it, so she’d taken his social life—or lack thereof—on as a project of sorts. He’d gone through a bad break up about six months ago and seemed to be having trouble bouncing back from it. Truth be told, she was lonely too, especially with Kayla and Lauren, her two closest friends, both moving to the west coast over the past few months, and she thought that maybe by helping Elliott, she’d be helping herself, too.

  Brandon cut a swath through the crowd, leading them up a set of stairs and onto a loft area that looked out over the rest of the club. Everything was pink and purple lights, flashing and pulsing in time with the Lady Gaga song thumping through the speakers. The dance floor below was filled with people moving in time to the music, a throng of bodies bouncing and writhing as one.

  They managed to snag a table in the corner near the railing overlooking the dance floor, giving them a small amount of privacy while still being part of the party. A small bar was set up at the back of the loft space, currently crowded with bodies. The music was loud enough that she could feel it in her chest, feel it taking over her entire body. Glancing at her friends, she smiled. Tonight was exactly what she needed. Between the mess with Max and missing her friends, she’d been feeling down.

  She and Dori sat down at the table and Brandon disappeared into the crowd, probably to find drinks. They joked that finding drinks in a crowded bar was his superpower. It didn’t matter how busy the bar was or how long the line was. He’d charm his way through the crowd, make quick friends with the bartender and the drinks would flow all night.

  “So let’s see this app!” Dori shouted into her ear to be heard over the music. “It’s such a cool idea. Although if you think about it, pretty much any app is a dating app if you’re creepy enough.” She winked.

  Willa laughed, loving Dori’s humor. “Well, I didn’t come up with the idea itself. That was Max,” she said, her stomach clenching at his name. She pulled her phone out of her clutch, saw a text message from Elliott that said “ok” and then opened the app, showing it to Dori.

  “Any interesting matches?” Dori asked, waggling her eyebrows.

  Willa smiled and shrugged. “I have a handful so far. I might get more as people fill out the questionnaire. But I’m not using it to find a date. I’m testing it. You know, usability, functionality. Stuff like that.”

  “Who says you couldn’t do both? When was the last time you went out with someone? When was the last time you had sex?”

  At the mention of sex, Willa flushed, fidgeting with her phone. “It’s been a while since I went on a date,” she said, avoiding the topic of sex. She hadn’t told anyone about her night with Max, not even Lauren and Kayla. “The last boyfriend I had was Justin, the photographer, and we broke up…over a year ago now,” she said, wincing slightly. She’d dated Justin for about a year and the breakup had been mutual—the relationship had petered out and they’d both been ready to go their separate ways. She’d taken a little time to regroup and by the time she’d felt ready to start dating again, she’d been in the throes of her uncontrollable crush on her emotionally unavailable boss.

  A crush she was determined to get over, she reminded herself.

  Biting her lip, she scrolled to the tab that held her matches. So far, she’d matched with four users—SilverFox44, DashingDeveloper, TechieDude, and YourMrRight. They all had compatibility scores in the seventies, except for SilverFox44, who she’d scored an 82% with. She hadn’t messaged any of them yet, but maybe she would. Later. After a little liquid courage.

  Dori nodded, nudging her gently. “Right, so that’s a long time that you haven’t really been dating. So maybe you shouldn’t just brush off these matches. After all, they’re scientifically vetted, or whatever, right? Maybe you should test how compatibility rankings translate to real life connections.”

  Willa pursed her lips, thinking. Dori had a point. It had been a while since she’d put herself out there, and if she did meet someone, it might help her move on from Max.

  She spotted Elliott’s tall frame as he made his way up the stairs, dressed in a dark green T-shirt, jeans, and scuffed up boots. Honestly, they were probably the fanciest clothes he owned, and at least they weren’t covered in a layer of sawdust and wood resin. She rose from her chair and closed the distance between them, flinging her arms around him in a hug.

  “Hey, bro,” she said, giving him a squeeze. “Glad you made it.”

  He glanced around uncertainly and then nodded. “I’m here.” From the way he said it, it was pretty clear he’d rather be anywhere else. She grabbed his hand and led him back to their table before he could bolt.

  “Just try to have fun,” she called over her shoulder. “Have a drink or two. Maybe dance. Enjoy yourself.”

  “I have whiskey at home, and I hate dancing.”

  She ignored his comment and dragged him back to the table, not sitting down until he’d folded himself into the chair across from her. She introduced him to Dori, whose mouth fell open as she stared at Elliott. It was a common occurrence when she introduced her brother to women. With his thick, light brown hair, model-worthy good looks and broad, muscled frame, he was never lacking for female attention.

  “Um. Yeah. Hi,” shouted Dori, fiddling with her hair. “You are extremely good looking.” Her cheeks turned red and she shook her head. “I mean, you and Willa look alike. Not that I have a crush on Willa, I just mean you have good genes, and…”

  Willa looped an arm around Dori’s shoulders and pulled her close. “Aw, thanks Dor. Also, Elliott is gay, so you can chill.”

  Dori slumped a little. “Oh. Ha. I’m both relieved and disappointed.”

  Willa spotted Brandon returning, a bottle of champagne and several glasses in his hands. His steps slowed as he approached the table, his eyes on Elliott. He narrowed his gaze, his mouth pulling down in a frown.

  “Oh. It’s you.” Brandon’s lip curled up in a slight sneer.

  Elliott’s eyes went wide as he stared at Brandon and he rubbed a hand over his mouth. “Oh. Uh, hey,” he said awkwardly, his blush obvious even in the club’s low lighting.

  “You two know each other?” asked Willa, her eyes bouncing back and forth between her friend and her brother.

  Brandon started working on the cork of the champagne bottle. “We met on a dating app….what? Six months ago? And we went on two dates and then your brother ghosted me.”

  Willa tilted her head, giving Elliott what she hoped was a mildly disappointed look. “Elliott!”

  Elliott’s gaze shifted between her and Brandon and he shrugged. “I wasn’t in a good place. I’m sorry.”

  Brandon licked his lips and studied him and then shook his head. “Whatever.” He popped the cork, champagne foaming over his fingers. “Let’s just forget about it.” He then poured everyone a glass of champagne, even Elliott.

  Willa raised her glass. “To Brandon and his meeting tomorrow, and to my new roommate Dori. And to my brother, for showing his face.”

  Brandon raised his glass, too. “To Willa on her successful beta launch, to Dori for being adorable as shit, and to Elliott, who I’d assumed was dead.”

  The corner of Elliott’s mouth kicked up and Willa took a long sip of her champagne, letting the bubbles work their magic. A catchy Dua Lipa song started playing and Willa drained the rest of her champagne, then stood up and pulled Dori to her fe
et.

  “Come on, let’s go dance.” She felt more than saw Elliott’s dirty look at leaving him alone with Brandon, but she wasn’t responsible for his bad dating etiquette.

  The next couple of hours passed in a blur of loud music, dancing, drinks, and laughter. Willa wasn’t drunk but she had a nice buzz humming through her system, making her feel warm and happy. The endorphins from the dancing coupled with the champagne were exactly what she’d needed today, and it felt good to cap off what had been a successful day with some cathartic dancing and partying.

  “You should go talk to that guy,” she said to Dori, tipping her chin toward the man lingering by the bar who’d been checking Dori out for the past couple of songs.

  Dori’s head whipped around. “Who? Him?”

  “The guy with the black hair in the blue shirt. He’s cute. And he’s been watching you dance.”

  Dori glanced over her shoulder again and then turned back. “Seriously? He is cute.”

  Willa nodded encouragingly, shooting her friend a smile. “Go. I have to find the restroom. I’ll meet you back at our table in a bit?”

  Dori hesitated and then nodded. “Oh-okay. Yeah. I’ll go talk to him.”

  Willa laid her hands on Dori’s shoulders. “Listen to me. You are pretty and smart and funny as hell. Just be yourself. You’re amazing, Dor. You’ve got this.” She gave her shoulders a squeeze and then let her go with a gentle push in the direction of the bar.

  When Willa was finished in the ladies’ room, she reemerged into the main area of the club, glancing in the direction of where the guy at the bar had been standing. She grinned when she saw Dori over there, getting her flirt on. Smiling, she headed back up the stairs to their table, hoping that Brandon and Elliott were getting on okay. She’d managed to drag Elliott out onto the dance floor a couple of times, but only ever for a single song before he retreated to their table, nursing his craft beer.

  As she reached the top of the stairs, she was surprised to find their table empty, adorned with the “reserved” sign Brandon had stolen from who knows where. Glancing around, she didn’t see either of them anywhere and she wondered if they’d both left. Shit, maybe she shouldn’t have left them alone together after finding out about their history. She knew how prickly Elliott could be sometimes and…Her eyes landed on two men in the corner, their arms around each other, kissing slowly.