Mother grimaced. “Oh, heavens. She won’t get far at that rate. No man with money wants a woman like that. You know, on some level, they all want to impress women with their money, but it’s supposed to be an unspoken thing.”
“I’ll take your word for it.”
“So, did you have another date?”
“Yesterday. We had the date at a carnival because Amy thought it would give us a taste of what life would be like with kids someday. Family-friendly vibes or something.”
Mom’s Botoxed brow rose as much as it could. “That sounds promising.”
“Well, yeah, it would have been, but my date didn’t want kids. She bailed pretty quickly after finding out that I do.”
Mom put down her fork and laced her fingers together. “Wait, wait, wait. Did you just admit to wanting children? Be still my beating heart.”
“I don’t know,” I said, digging at the salad in front of me like my fork was a shovel, “I mean, I used to want them, you know. Then I figured kids came with a wife. And I didn’t see myself getting one of those.”
Her eyes softened. “Honey, I really wish you’d see yourself the way other people see you. You’re handsome, you’re successful; you’ve got it all.”
“Mom, come on.” I looked around, praying her country club buddies at nearby tables couldn’t hear. I didn’t recognize anyone who was within earshot, but she knew everyone.
“I’m serious, Dex. You don’t give yourself enough credit. What woman wouldn’t want to be with a man like you?”
“Don’t you think it’s a little weird that I’m thirty-five and you’re giving me a pep talk like I’m still a pizza-faced teenager?”
She smiled tightly. “Why, yes, I do. Which is why I signed you up for a professional matchmaking service, dear. Do you think I would have needed to do that if I thought you’d figure this out on your own?”
“That sounds pathetic.”
“You’re not pathetic, Dex. I just think that trollop in Japan ruined your confidence and you’ve never bothered to try again. There are probably other guys your age who are single, aren’t there?”
I shrugged. “Most guys my age who are single are divorced.”
“Well, you were engaged early and then she broke it off. Now, your mom is just impatient waiting for you to decide to try again.”
“That doesn’t make it much better.”
“No one’s perfect, dear.”
I snorted. “Are you mad you didn’t get a son like Charlotte Williams did? He’s had a wife and kids for like a decade now.”
My mom reached across the table and squeezed my hand. “I’m not mad about the son I got. I love you. Don’t forget, I married a man who could take apart a computer with his eyes closed but didn’t know to keep his mouth shut if I asked if my butt looked big in a certain pair of pants.”
“I miss him.” I looked down at our joined hands, wishing my dad had been around for the last ten years. Maybe his I-was-a-nerd-too advice would have gotten me out of my shell sooner after Harumi. Maybe I never would have adopted apathy towards women if he’d have set me straight.
“Me too. And he’d have known what to say in these times way better than me. I’ve been doing my best, but I feel like I must have failed you somewhere along the line if you really don’t know how great you are.”
“Yeah, well, your first blunder was naming me Dexter, Mom. You kind of set me up to fail with that one.”
She dropped my hand on the table with a loud thud. “Dexter is a family name. It wasn’t my fault.”
“Yeah, yeah.”
“So, you’ve had two dates, and they were both terrible. What am I paying these people for? Do I need to call that Julia woman and give her a piece of my mind?”
I shook my head. “No, don’t. It’s not Amy’s fault. There was a software glitch that mixed up the dates she’d arranged. She’s got it figured out now, though.”
“A software glitch, huh? They charge enough money over there to have a top-notch network if you ask me.”
“I’m sure it’ll be great next time. Amy’s got a handle on it.”
I stabbed my salad and took a bite, not liking the way my stomach turned at the idea of actually having a good date next time. If I had a good date, it wouldn’t abruptly end. And if it didn’t abruptly end, I wouldn’t have a reason to hang out with Amy while she was between dates. And judging by the shock of electricity that went through my hand when we’d both reached for her water bottle yesterday, that connection was worth exploring. The only question was, how could I make it happen?
14
Amy
“Okay, Beth,” I said, taking my client’s hand between us and giving it a companionable squeeze. “Here we go. Do you have any last-minute questions before he gets here?”
She let out a shaky breath and rubbed her hands together. “Nope. I think I’m ready. I’m scared, but I’m ready.”
“It’s okay to be scared as long as you go through with it. That’s growth, right?”
“Right.”
I gave her a small smile. “I’ll be right over there if you need me during lunch, but when you guys go walk around, just text me if you want to meet up.”
She looked to the table I’d pointed to that sat on the outskirts of the zoo’s restaurant patio. “You mean you’re not going to trail us and hide behind bushes for the rest of this date?”
“No.”
“I guess that’s fine,” she replied with a laugh. “What are you going to do, though? Isn’t it boring to wait around while people have dates? You just sit there with no one to talk to?”
“Well, talking is a big part of my job, so I love these moments to myself. And I have a book in my bag that I’m dying to finish. I can’t think of a better way to spend my Sunday afternoon.”
Beth shrugged. “Makes sense. Okay, I guess I’ll go sit over there and wait for him.”
“This is going to be great. I can feel it. You look beautiful, by the way.”
She thanked me with a shy smile and made her way to one of the wire tables on the pavilion. I turned and went in the opposite direction, choosing a table that had a good view of theirs but wasn’t close enough for them to worry about whether I was eavesdropping.
I remembered Dex asking about the earpiece idea and smiled. I hadn’t done that for a client in a while, and I’d be lying if I said I didn’t hope to do it again soon. It never failed, at some point the person parroted my instructions verbatim instead of actually doing the thing I’d instructed them to do. My personal favorite had been the day I learned never to joke around with a nervous client in an attempt to loosen them up.
“Turn that frown upside down, my friend,” I’d said into his earpiece. “You look a little constipated.”
The date had gone downhill faster than an Olympic ski racer after he’d repeated the line to his dinner companion. And that was the day I decided I needed to study the art of earpiece coaching before ever trying it again. Obviously, Claire was stuck being my guinea pig around the office while I practiced, and in hindsight, that was probably more fun for me than for her.
Truthfully, I was grateful I could hang out at my table and not feed Beth her lines today. Lurking around other people’s dates may qualify as the weirdest part of my job, but I wasn’t kidding when I said I liked the time to myself. I was one of those outgoing introverts who could be bubbly and conversational when I needed to be, but too much people-ing drained the life out of me, one tidbit about the weather or favorite brand of peanut butter at a time.
Silence recharged me.
Alone time rejuvenated me.
Keeping my nose in a book warded off unwelcome small talk.
I pulled my romance novel out of my bag and settled into my seat, ready to relax and maintain a discreet and minimally creepy level of surveillance on my clients. The only thing keeping me from total zen was the pungent smell wafting over from the flamingo area. Seriously, whoever decided it was a good idea to put a restaurant next to those sti
nky pink birds was beyond help. Okay, fine, maybe the birds themselves weren’t stinky, but their brine-filled pond was, and it made me want to hurl.
Deciding to breathe through my mouth—which was the most disgusting way to handle bad smells—so I could focus on my book, I found my page and settled in. When my work phone buzzed on the table in front of me, my shoulders sagged. I’d had the longest week ever, and I just wanted to know if Lady Stephanie was going to kiss or kill the Duke of Chamberlain after he sabotaged her engagement to the Earl of Devonshire.
My eyes bulged when I looked at the screen.
Dex: I hate to do this, but can we reschedule my next date? I have something I can’t get out of on Saturday. Can we move it to Sunday?
Right. Okay. This was business. There was no reason for my heart to be racing. There was no reason for me to have bitten a hole in my lip as I opened that text, excited to see what he’d said. And there was no reason to now be disappointed that he was only texting me for scheduling reasons. Because—obviously—there was no other reason for him to text me.
But all of that didn’t stop my curiosity. And you know what they say about curiosity …
Me: Prioritizing something over dating, huh? I wish you could see my shocked face.
Dex: Very funny. Seriously, I would get out of it if I could. But I’d already told my buddy I’d help him move before the date was scheduled, and he doesn’t have anyone else who can help if I bail.
Ah, loyalty. Sacred for Dex. Undervalued by most men. Sigh. Couldn’t fault the guy for being a good friend.
Me: That’s fine, I’ll let Erin know. Same time?
Dex: Yes, thanks.
I opened the message thread that I had going with Erin and asked her if the change of plans worked for her. She immediately responded that it was fine, so I shot Dex a confirmation text, then sent Claire a message to update my digital calendar. Finally, I pulled my trusty planner out of my bag to make it official on paper.
Figuring my work was done, I glanced up to see Beth’s date hadn’t arrived yet, so I opened my book again and started reading. Right when Lady Stephanie arrived at the rendezvous location, my phone buzzed again. Snapping the book closed, I picked up the rectangular hunk of annoyingness and glared at the screen.
Dex: So, are you working right now?
I raised a brow. Is he asking because he wants to chitchat or because he has a work-related thing he wants to discuss and wants to make sure I’m on the clock? Because that would be perfectly reasonable and respectful of my time, so of course it would qualify as an appropriate reason for us to text.
Me: Yes.
Dex: Stalking people?
Me: Always.
Dex: Do you ever feel like a private detective?
Me: A private detective?
Dex: Yeah. Doing all of this stalking to match people up seems like it could uncover all kinds of secrets.
Hmm. So, this was less work-related and more chitchat—but it was chitchat that was related to my work. Should I shut it down? I mean, I knew I should, but did I want to? I gave my clients the number to my work phone so they could communicate with me during and regarding their dates. They all knew it wasn’t my personal cell and most of them respected that by keeping our conversations about business. But there were always those clients who disrespected the privilege of having my number and it annoyed me to no end.
So, why wasn’t I annoyed with Dex? And why was my heart beating faster again?
I put down the book and took the phone between both hands, my thumbs hovering over the keys. I should tell him this phone is for important business-related things, not for chitchat. I should set boundaries, like I did for every other client who had developed a misguided crush on their matchmaker. But against my better judgment, I squeezed my eyes shut and let my fingers peck out the completely stupid response that my heart wanted me to make.
Me: Yeah, sometimes. Like the time I caught my client in a few lies while asking about his history, so I did a little digging and discovered he was happily married and using FCL to live a double life.
Dex: Gross. Men are pigs.
Me: Are they? I had no idea.
Dex: You probably have a better idea than I do. I don’t make a living creeping in the shadows while other people have dates.
I snorted out loud, then looked around to see if anyone noticed. In my scanning of the patio, I realized Beth’s date had arrived. I’d been so preoccupied with Dex that I hadn’t even been watching. Ugh, see? This is why I should have shut it down. Dex was distracting me.
Beth and Rick had been sitting at the table chatting for who knows how long, but still hadn’t gone up to the window to order their food. I watched for a moment, trying to decide if that was a good sign or a bad one.
Usually, if a couple hit it off, they were so busy flirting they took a while to get up and order at the counter. The San Diego Zoo’s patio dining area didn’t include table service. In my experience in these situations, if the date had started awkwardly, it would be a relief to have something to do to fill the silence. So maybe the fact that they were still sitting and talking meant that sparks were flying.
This was a good thing, don’t get me wrong, but since Beth wasn’t one of the three clients I needed to match up fast for the competition, I wasn’t as desperate for her to find love today. As long as the regular clients matched up within their guaranteed twelve dates, I usually figured that slow and steady won the race.
Satisfied that they were doing okay, I turned back to my phone and reread Dex’s text to remind myself what we were talking about. Oh yeah, he’d joked again about me meddling in people’s love lives. I liked to think of it as being a little more romantic and amazing than that, but at the end of the day, he wasn’t wrong.
Me: We can’t all be Marines. Then you wouldn’t be the few and the proud anymore.
Dex: We’re not the few and the proud anymore, anyway.
Me: What do you mean?
Dex: They changed the slogan a few years ago from The Few. The Proud. to Battles Won.
I raised a brow, reading the text over again and trying out the new slogan in my head.
Me: I don’t get it. I liked the few and the proud.
Dex: Same here. I don’t really battle anyone outside of the Battle Royales in Fortnite.
Me: Is your video game knowledge as extensive as your computer-crimes-guy knowledge?
Dex: Probably, yeah. And if I hadn’t been single all of this time that wouldn’t be the case. So, there’s another plus to the single life.
Again, a laugh burst from my lips and I looked around self-consciously. This guy was too much. He didn’t care about dating at all. Sure, I’d had many clients over the years who were encouraged by an outside source to book our services rather than seeking us out themselves. Well-meaning mothers, sisters, brothers, friends, bosses, you name it. Some of them picked up the bill for our services, and others just pushed their single loved one into whipping out their credit card and investing in their own future. They all had some measure of reluctance to dating, but for a guy as hot as Dex to just not care about being single blew my mind.
Me: I know you don’t think the reward is worth the effort of a relationship if it’s going to end badly. But don’t you ever get lonely?
There was a pause before the little bubbles appeared to tell me he was responding. On the one hand, I hoped I hadn’t gotten too personal. But on the other hand, I was already texting with a client who made my heart pound, so I might as well at least try to utilize this time to learn things that could aid in finding him a match.
That was all I was doing.
Finding him a match.
A match who wasn’t me.
Dex: Do you ever get lonely?
I rolled my eyes in real life before replying with the eye-roll emoji.
Dex: Yeah, yeah. We don’t talk about you. But if you don’t want to talk about you, stop asking me questions that I want to know about you, too.
I pursed my lips.
This guy. Always on the lookout, I glanced up at my clients and was relieved to see that they’d finally gotten up to order food. Smooth sailing. Before I even laid eyes on my phone, it buzzed in my hand again.
Dex: Everyone gets lonely. But I’m not unhappy. I keep busy.
I hesitated, then decided to be honest.
Me: Me too.
Dex: Well, if this whole thing doesn’t work out and after twelve dates we figure out I’m a lost cause, maybe we can both stay single and busy, but together. As friends, of course.
My cheeks warmed.
Me: Dexter Harrington, if I didn’t know any better, I’d say you were flirting with me.
There was a long pause.
Dex: It’s your own fault. You’ve been coaching me on how to talk to women, remember? Bet you didn’t plan on me using these ninja skills on you.
I set the phone down on the table. No, I definitely hadn’t planned on that. And as much as I knew I shouldn’t, I found that I kind of liked it.
15
Dex
“Hi, I’m Erin,” she said, sticking out her hand for me to shake.
I shook it, glancing quickly over her head, and noticed Amy lurking nearby. She nodded once and gave me a small smile, which I took to mean that this was in fact the correct match for our date. I gave her an almost imperceptible nod in return, and then met Erin’s pretty brown eyes behind her black-rimmed glasses.
I let go of her hand, registering that it elicited the same response in me that the gesture had with Ania and Jordan. And that meant it was the exact opposite feeling of when I’d touched Amy’s hand after she’d knocked over her water bottle. That had happened a week ago now, and I still felt a magnetic pull toward her. It was the reason I’d found excuses to text her several times since then. Was it my fault that those texts always led to longer conversations between us than were probably allowed? Yeah. Was I going to stop doing it? Absolutely not.
A Match for the Marine: A Sweet Romantic Comedy (First Comes Love Book 1) Page 9
