Sliding back onto my barstool, I squared my shoulders. Julia wouldn’t act rashly. She’d wait and watch. Maybe this date wouldn’t end in disaster. I’d been doing this long enough to know that Dex and Ania were horribly wrong for each other, but maybe they’d have a mediocre, lackluster date and I wouldn’t have any explaining to do, I just wouldn’t schedule them for a second date.
Yes, it would add a date to my overall number for the competition, and yes, that could be the difference between winning and losing to Belinda. But the last thing I should do is embarrass the company by stepping in on a date that was already in progress. All that would do is make us seem like we didn’t have our stuff together. And we did. At First Comes Love, our stuff was so together it was categorized with the Dewey decimal system. How was that for a new slogan?
I narrowed my eyes at the couple, trying to figure out what they were talking about. Did he just look at his watch? That was never a good sign. I watched with wide eyes as Dex held up a finger to her and pointed towards the restroom. He had to pee? My mind flashed back to the funny answer he’d given Julia during his intake meeting about how he’d hold it instead of waking the sleeping passenger on the plane. After spending a few minutes with Ania and her nasally voice, he probably had to relieve his ears, not his bladder. And when his piercing eyes met mine from across the room and he jerked his head for me to meet him at the back of the restaurant, I gulped and headed that way.
I weaved through the tables, holding my head high, yet feeling like I was headed for the chopping block. I found Dex leaning against the wall in the enclave near the restrooms. His strong arms were crossed over his broad chest, but his shoulders sagged almost as if he felt guilty for something. My feet stuttered as I took in his expression. His eyes were soft and patient even as his mouth was set into a hard line. He almost looked … disappointed.
I took a deep breath as I approached. I needed to play dumb for a minute just in case he wasn’t here to complain about Ania. Maybe he wanted advice on how to talk to her. “Hey, how’s it going?”
He sighed. “Amy, I’m not sure this whole thing is for me.”
“What do you mean?” I put a hand on my hip, trying to play it casual, pretending I didn’t know he was on a date with the wrong match.
“This woman—”
“Ania?”
“Yeah. She’s not really my type.”
I crossed my arms to mirror his pose. “Dex, you’ve barely given her a chance.”
“Well, maybe I know everything I need to know.”
“She can’t be that bad,” I fibbed. Oh, sheesh, she most definitely could be, and now I was taking on her character trait of being an outright liar.
His jaw ticked and he narrowed his eyes. “She asked me how much my watch cost.”
I cringed, glancing at his watch. It did look like a nice watch, and since Ania was a proven gold digger, I wasn’t surprised at all. “Well, okay. Maybe that was tacky.”
“It led to her asking about my net worth right after ordering the most expensive bottle of wine on the menu,” he deadpanned. “Did you tell her about my trust fund? That’s not exactly the kind of thing I want to broadcast before these women even meet me.”
It took all of my professional training to stifle my exasperation. Of-freaking-course she asked him his net worth. Because she was a terrible person. And she was incredibly hard to find a match for because every man I’d set her up with was turned off by her incessant questions about their money. Which, again, was not the right kind of girl for Dex. The guy hadn’t even pulled a fast one to get his hands on a small fortune. That was how little he cared about being rich. Either way, Ania was still our client. And at First Comes Love, we tried to find a match for all of our clients. Even the vapid ones.
“I didn’t tell her about your trust fund. I would never tell a client something like that.” I smoothed my hands down my skirt and swallowed. “Would you like to finish the date with her or are you planning to sneak out of here?”
He frowned. “I’m not going to just bail on her. What kind of guy do you think I am?”
“A better one than most,” I said under my breath.
“What was that?”
“Nothing.” I shook my head. “So, you’re going to continue the date?”
“Sure. I just figured that since you said you’d be right here if I needed anything, I’d let you know you’re oh-for-one. And I’m not impressed with the quality of women you have in your client pool.”
I smiled tightly. “I sincerely apologize for missing the mark on this match. I can assure you it won’t happen again. Don’t give up on the process, okay?”
Dex raised a brow. “I wasn’t even sure I wanted to do this in the first place. I’m not any more convinced now.”
“I know, but you’re a good son.”
He ran a hand over his jaw and looked away. “I feel ridiculous.”
My heart squeezed and I wanted to reach for him. Knowing what a boneheaded move that would be, I tucked my hands behind my back instead. “Why’s that?”
“I guess I got my hopes up or something. Like, maybe I was just being stubborn and this whole thing could actually pan out.”
“Dex, we’re just getting started. Don’t quit on me.”
He held my gaze, his eyes reminding me of the look my little cousin Sammy used to get when he was trying to solve his Rubik’s cube. “All those forms I filled out and all of that time we spent talking about my preferences and stuff … all of that led you to Ania?”
He looked toward the table as Ania sat staring at herself in her compact, making kissy faces and checking her teeth. I cringed. “Not exactly. And I’m sure your date next week will go a lot smoother. But right now, you’re here with Ania. So, get back over there and charm her into forgetting about the contents of your bank account.”
He snorted, shook his head, and headed back to the table.
When he was gone, I leaned back against the wall and hung my head. How the heck had this happened? Dex’s first impression of my matchmaking skills was a complete disaster. And along with that, he didn’t think I understood him at all, which was most definitely not the case. I knew exactly what kind of woman would be right for Gunnery Sergeant Dexter Harrington. And if I were being honest … she’d be an awful lot like me.
9
Dex
“Oh, hey, how was your first date? That was last night, right?” Lopez asked.
Huck stopped doing crunches and looked over. “That’s right. Did the matchmaker hit it out of the park, or what?”
I wiped the sweat from my brow with a hand towel then draped it around my neck. “No, not at all. It was rough.”
Lopez waved a hand. “Man, that sucks. Can’t say I’m surprised, though. Your mom hired these people. I mean, maybe they can find dates for middle-aged divorcées, but guys like us?”
“Yeah, I have to admit I wasn’t expecting much, either,” Huck added, resuming his crunches. “Oh, well. So you didn’t get a wife out of the deal. Now you can just keep living in the gym, playing video games, and enjoying the single life, right?”
I curled the weights in my hands, watching my biceps flex in the floor-length mirror in front of me. I worked out with these guys most weekends, and then I also put time in at my apartment complex’s gym before and after work. It took a lot of time to maintain the muscles that were more important to me than I liked to admit, but it wasn’t like I had anyone at home waiting for me and wanting to hang out.
Hearing Huck describe my life in such simple terms—working out, playing video games, and being single—kind of reminded me of my mom’s fear of me dying alone. Was that the general consensus around here? That I’d just keep living like this forever? I’d be a crusty old man with big guns and a million hours clocked in Assassin’s Creed. Why hadn’t that thought bothered me until now?
“So, that’s it then?” Lopez asked. “Your mom paid all that money for one crappy date?”
I shook my head. “Nah. It
’s a whole process. I have another date next weekend. This is supposed to continue until I match with someone.”
“Oh, great, so we’ll be hearing about this forever,” Huck teased.
“Man, cut him some slack. There’s bound to be some computer nerd girl just waiting to meet this stud.” Lopez winked at me and slid down under the barbell to do bench presses.
I curled weights as they continued talking about what kind of woman they could see me matching up with. It was funny how different their perception of me was from the preferences I’d given to Amy. Sure, it would be cool if the woman liked video games. But it wasn’t an absolute. I could just as easily see myself gaming on a Saturday afternoon while she read a book on the couch next to me. I couldn’t help but wonder if Amy had ever played video games. She seemed competitive, just from her attitude. I bet she’d at least throw down on some Mortal Combat sometime.
Putting down the weights, I pushed her out of my mind. She was my matchmaker. She was actively trying to find another woman for me to date. She wanted me to hit it off with someone else so she could successfully close the file on me and move on to other clients. I needed to stop thinking about her and her gorgeous eyes. Or her full lips. Or her shiny brown hair and the way she seemed to have an endless number of ways to style it.
“Hello?” Lopez asked. “Did you hear me?”
I winced. “Sorry, what?”
“I asked how long you’d keep going on dates until you found a good one.”
“Well, they have a guarantee that you’ll find a match within twelve dates or your money back. So, I guess that’s the goal for the matchmaker,” I replied.
“Man, how much would it suck for you to go through twelve hand-selected options and still not wind up pairing up with anyone?” Huck mused.
Lopez threw his sweaty towel at him. “Shut up, Huck. Not helpful. Dex, what was so wrong with the one you met up with last night? Was she hot?”
I pictured Ania’s face and cringed, picking up my weights for another set. “I never thought I’d say this but … looks aren’t everything.”
Huck rolled his eyes. “Yeah, sure. Without a doubt. Totally agree.”
“Ignore him, Dex. He’s a bad influence. I’m pulling for you,” Lopez said. “Maybe this whole thing will actually be pretty cool. I wish I had someone out there trying to find girls for me full-time.”
“Thanks, Lo,” I replied.
Huck took a drink from his water bottle then shrugged. “Again, I’m excited to watch it play out. You’ve never given us anything entertaining as far as dating stories, and we’ve given you plenty of crazy stuff to laugh at. Remember that girl who robbed the gas station we stopped at on the way home from our date?”
I shook my head. “Only you would find a girl like that.”
“Yeah, your stories have a lot to do with the kind of women you pick,” Lopez observed, stretching his arms behind his back. “My dating stories are much less wild.”
I put down the weights I’d been working with and cracked my neck. “I’ll be right back. I’m gonna go hit the head.”
They nodded their acknowledgement, and I turned for the bathroom. I needed to get out of there before they started back in on me about the matchmaking stuff. Leave it to Lopez to be encouraging while Huck was critical. That was the usual vibe in the group. Lopez was the resident optimist. Huck was our sarcastic downer. And me? Well, I was the literal one. The numbers guy. The dude you could go to when you needed advice that had nothing to do with emotions—positive or negative.
Maybe that was another reason why I hadn’t realized it was a bad thing to be alone all this time. I had the necessities. I had a roof over my head, plenty of money, good friends, loving—albeit overbearing at times—family, a job, and the freedom to do whatever I wanted. Loneliness wasn’t on my radar. But maybe it should have been.
The only question was, could Amy really find a woman who was worth risking my heart for again? Because from where I sat, adding a woman to my independent lifestyle seemed a lot more dangerous to my well-being than continuing on my current path. It was working for me just fine. Well, that is until all these people started meddling in it.
I opened the door to the restroom and sighed. I’d give it a chance, but I had a feeling the damage was done. I had a new fear with this whole thing, thanks to Huck and his big mouth. What if I made it through twelve dates without a match? Would I be able to go back to my single life and feel content like I had before?
10
Amy
I pushed open the door to the bookstore and craned my neck. For a Saturday morning in a tourist town, the shop was unusually quiet. I scanned the room. Claire could usually be found in the stacks somewhere, shelving books or pulling online orders. The shop was small, so it didn’t take too long to find her as she crouched in the mystery section.
“Boo,” I said, popping my head around the bookshelf.
Claire jumped and the stack of books in her lap crashed to the floor. “Girl. Really?”
I chuckled and stooped to help her pick them up. “Sorry, I didn’t think you’d get that scared. Were you reading the merchandise instead of shelving it again?”
“Yes, and you jumped out at me in the middle of the murder scene. It was literally one of those Are you crazy? Don’t go in there alone at night, you dumb bimbo! moments.”
“Oh, I love and hate those at the same time,” I said, sticking the books on the shelf where she indicated. “Now, stop reading and get back to work. I have lots of trade-ins.”
Claire laughed and picked up the tote bag full of books I’d come in with, lugging them to the counter at the back of the store. Julia paid her decently well for an administrative assistant, but living in Carlsbad wasn’t cheap. Sure, she could have afforded a lovely apartment near work, but Claire wanted to live within walking distance of the beach. To make that happen on her salary, she’d needed to get creative.
One day last year she’d found an ad for a one-bedroom apartment above a cute used bookstore in downtown Carlsbad. The quirky owner gave her discounted rent in exchange for spending Saturdays and some weeknights manning the store for her. Since Claire and I were both beach bums, as well as big-time book junkies, her employment there worked out well for both of us. Plus, the older woman had become something of a mother-figure to Claire.
Claire dug through the bag and unloaded my monthly book haul onto the counter. “Do you want to look around while I put these in?”
“Yep, thanks,” I replied, tapping the counter and turning on my heel for the romance section. Claire was into mysteries, so I read them when she recommended them. But my favorites were the love stories.
After dealing with romance all day at work, it would make sense that I’d want a break from it in my fiction, but it was more like the opposite. Reading about romance reminded me that for every epic fail, there was the potential for an epic love. Besides, I needed the books because I wasn’t sure if I’d ever get my own happily ever after. Past experience told me I’d always put the job over a man.
That was another reason why I needed to win the competition for the CEO job. Julia had Patrick. Even Belinda had her balding beau of twenty years and change. I had nothing but the company. Oh, and Claire. But I had no doubt that she’d one day find a guy too, and then I’d be all alone. I sighed, fingering the edges of a frayed copy of Pride and Prejudice. At least I had books.
Claire popped up beside me. “You have thirty-six bucks in credit. Find anything yet?”
“A couple. How are you feeling, by the way?” I wanted to test the mood-swing meter before I launched into the story about Ania and the date mix-up from last night.
“Good, I think my body is finally used to the juice. I might even start liking it just in time for it to be over.”
“Which is …?”
“Thursday,” she finished.
“Right.” I swallowed. I couldn’t imagine having nothing but juice for ten whole days. No wonder she was such a spaz. Hopefully, I c
ould tell her this story without her thinking I was blaming her, otherwise she’d probably Hulk out on me. I couldn’t wait for normal Claire to come back. “So, last night was crazy.”
“Well, I figured it would be—a date with Ania is rarely boring. I have to say, I thought it was weird you paired her up with Dex. Is that because you knew she’d like the trust fund?”
I blinked at her. “Claire. If you thought it was weird that I paired Ania and Dex up, why didn’t you say anything?”
“Uh, right. It’s totally in my job description to question your matches.”
I plucked a book off the shelf and tucked it into the crook of my arm with the other three I’d chosen. “Good point. Well, in this case, I didn’t actually want them to go out. I have no idea how Ania’s name made it into the system. I picked Lindie Miller for that date.”
Claire’s eyes grew wide. “Shut up. No way. Oh yeah, she would have been a much better match for him.”
“You’re telling me.”
“I swear, Ames, it said Ania’s name in the system. I know I’ve been losing my mind a bit with the lack of real food in my diet, but I’m not that bad.”
I waved a hand. “No, I know. I checked the system and it really did say Ania, so it’s not your fault. I must have screwed something up when I put it in.”
Claire looked like she believed that just as much as I had. I wasn’t a rookie matchmaker who didn’t know our system. I ate, slept, and breathed First Comes Love. I was the first person in and the last person to leave. I’d helped the web designers come up with the best options for the computer system in the first place. I didn’t know a lick about computers or what it would take to write the code for the features I wanted, but still. I was able to give them ideas about things we wanted to be able to track and they worked their magic.
A thought occurred to me as I followed Claire to the counter again and placed my collection of books in front of her. Maybe I should reach out to someone in the IT department to see if they could trace what happened. As quickly as the idea had come, I waved it away. Who cared? What was done, was done. I didn’t have time to dwell on one poorly timed mistake. I had a competition to win.
A Match for the Marine: A Sweet Romantic Comedy (First Comes Love Book 1) Page 6
