At their return, up the high strand,
Begin, and cease, and then again begin,
With tremulous cadence slow, and bring
The eternal note of sadness in.
“That’s really pretty. But sort of melancholy.”
His face lit up. “Exactly! So all my life I wanted to go there and just see, find out if the place felt the way the poem makes me feel.”
“And did it?” She leaned in, eager for his answer.
He looked bemused. “I’d associated the Dover Cliffs with that poem for so long in my mind, and I was thinking about the poem when I went there, so it was all mixed together. It was beautiful, but maybe not as lonely as the poem. But I’d already pre-determined my state of mind, in a way, by bringing the poem with me.”
“The only way to really tell,” she suggested, “would be to go there FIRST, and read the poem later and compare. But if you didn’t know the poem existed, you wouldn’t be able to plan the trip and the comparison.”
“Right. You’d have to have a friend who would take you places and then show you poems later, so you could match them up.”
“A poem-tour guide!” Fia laughed. “You can start a new business.”
“Yeah, I think it might not get too many clients.” He gave a rueful grin. “Maybe a few college professors.”
“Nope, not them. They’ve already read all the good poems. You need fresh blood. College lit majors who haven’t stopped partying and smoking weed yet. They’re uninitiated.”
“But would they even appreciate the visit, or the poem?”
“Good point.” She paused. “Tell me more of the poem.”
“Well, this part I like a lot, too.”
Ah, love, let us be true
To one another! for the world, which seems
To lie before us like a land of dreams,
So various, so beautiful, so new,
Hath really neither joy, nor love, nor light,
Nor certitude, nor peace, nor help for pain;
And we are here as on a darkling plain
Swept with confused alarms of struggle and flight,
Where ignorant armies clash by night.
“God, that’s so beautiful and so tragic. How can something so sad be so pretty?”
He shrugged. “The cadence and sound of the words, the imagery, the voice. Sometimes sad things evoke beauty, too.”
“But you don’t believe that, though, right? That the world is devoid of joy and love?”
“Not really.” He gave a dry chuckle. “Not empty of joy. Love, maybe.”
“Wait. Hold it. You don’t believe in love?”
“Well, it’s not something you believe in, like God. Or evolution.”
“But you’re not a fan. You already said you’re not looking for love.”
“Why look for something that you know you won’t find? It’s a waste of time and resources. At least in this city, right now, for me.”
She was stunned. “But that’s crazy talk! Maybe you’re not ready for love, to settle down, but surely you can see that love is all around us.”
He tilted his head in a non-committal gesture. “I see that the fantasy of true love is all around us. I see the desperation of people who want so badly to find love that they sign up for dreadfully expensive and questionable dating services. I see—”
“Stop. That’s not fair.”
He sighed. “We keep coming back to the same arguments, Fia. I just think genuine love is a lot rarer than people want to believe it is. And when you feed the beast, you’re not doing anyone a favor.”
“Well, I think you’re just jaded and have a really negative outlook, and you’re being way too pessimistic about love. Yeah, it’s not easy to find. But it’s there, if you keep looking. My service helps people turn the rocks, okay? To find the treasure below.”
“Or the worms.” He laughed.
She frowned again, irritated, and stood up. “I should go.”
“No, wait. Chelsea’s still hovering. I don’t want you to run into her and say something you’ll regret, later.”
“Why do you care? You made fun of me on TV.”
“I don’t want to see you get hurt.” The words came out before he seemed to recognize it; when she widened her eyes, he looked away. “I mean, right now Chelsea thinks this is a fun game. But if she gets pissed at you, she can turn into a shark, and you don’t want that. You don’t want angry Chelsea. Just let this play out, and I promise you, it will all be fine for both you and Connie in the end. You must believe that, right? Or else why did you come on the show?”
“I didn’t expect it to go quite like it did, I guess.” She picked up her purse and the water bottle he’d given her.
“Nobody ever expects it to go like it does.” He smiled and touched her arm. She drew in a quick breath because even the idle touch made desire unfurl again in her belly. “But sometimes if you go with the flow, you end up with something even better than what you first wanted.”
She nodded. “Thanks, Sophocles. Your ancient wisdom belongs in many fortune cookies. If this TV gig doesn’t work out, the arts are calling you.”
Her voice was light and she thought he’d laugh, but he frowned and looked almost tortured and clenched a fist before he turned away. But maybe she’d been mistaken at thinking he was upset, because when he turned back, his face was smooth and impassive. “I’m sure they are. If they do, I will heed the siren call.”
“So.” She looked to the door. “I’m in complete control of my emotions. Zen master, you Google it, you will see my picture. Ice cube, my picture. Cucumber…”
He nodded. “I get the idea.”
“Until next time. Next date, I guess?” She blinked at him.
“Until then.”
Busy in her office the next week, she drank cup after cup of coffee, black, working furiously on her new contacts. Because of the show, two high-profile women had pulled out of the service, in addition to Altera. Because of the show, five new men had signed up, sexy handsome and rich men whom she and Gracie typically labeled “Grade A Catch”. And several women were interested, too.
By the time she’d downed her fourth cup of Java, she was typing so fast that she felt like her fingers were small hummingbirds, and she felt the need to point this out to Gracie.
“Look at my hands. Have you ever seen anyone type so fast? I’m really on top of this. Did you read that article today about global warming? Hey, do you think we should update our meeting room to include more snacks and different color schemes? I’ve been reading up on colors and how they affect emotions and buying desire. Right now I love our meeting rooms with the black and white and pops of blue and green. But I read that orange is a great color for marketing because orange is seen as the ‘dependable’ and ‘safe to buy’ color. Like Home Depot and Amazon use orange. It’s sort of a call to sales. So maybe including orange in our décor could be a subtle cue to potential clients that they need to buy in. Right?”
“I’m sorry, I stopped listening after you talked so fast that I could literally see the words coming out of your mouth,” said Gracie. “You want oranges?”
“No. I’m talking about color and marketing.”
“I feel like you’re vibrating. I feel like right now, you could sell yourself as a human vibrator on a sex site and make a million dollars.”
“That’s gross! I don’t want to be someone’s vibrator.”
Grace shrugged. “There are worse ways to make money.”
“Name one. One thing worse than crawling up a stranger’s vagina and vibrating them into orgasm.”
“Well when you put it that way,” agreed Gracie, “I sort of agree.” She paused. “Still, I think cleaning Port-O-Potties probably really sucks. Or climbing down into sewers with horrible rats and roaches. If the person has a clean vag and took a shower, it might be okay.”
“So I don’t know how we got from decorating to lesbian sex.”
“We’re flexible. And you’re wired. Take a break! You�
�ve been working non-stop all morning.” Grace rolled her eyes. “Anyway, you need to stop that, so we can discuss Dylan’s next date. Did we decide on who we’re going with?”
“Yes. Kellie McDanvers, the pediatrician with the rocking bod. She’s blonde, and maybe that will work, because he liked Connie’s blonde. And remember, she hit a ninety-two on the survey!”
“I have high hopes for her. But is she cool with the TV stuff?”
“She is.” Fia nodded. “Totally fine with it. I texted with her earlier and she said she’s fine with it all, excited to give it a try. Really awesome personality. I feel like we could be friends.”
“That’s how you know we pick good people,” pointed out Gracie. “If we like them, the guys will like them. Do you think Dylan will like her?”
“Well, she has more of a sense of humor than Altera,” said Fia. “And he likes a sense of humor. I think maybe that’s what was the block between him and Altera. They had so much else in common, but when it came to just hanging out, they didn’t have the right qualities to just…gel. I think Kellie is more gellie.”
“You’re a poet!” Gracie laughed.
“I am.” But thinking of poetry made her think of Dylan, and the distant look in his eyes when he recited the poetry. And that kiss! God, the kiss. She flushed and put a hand to her lips, tracing her bottom one, the way he had…with his tongue.
Then she pulled her hand away. She had to stop. It was just a kiss, and he was her client…her playboy client, who didn’t really want love or a relationship, but who was doing this for a show. And she really needed him to like her dates so her service would win the battle.
“So where should we send them this time?” Grace typed rapidly, although not with Fia’s previous manic passion. “I think I’d like to set them up with a boat ride. A dinner cruise! A romantic dinner cruise aboard the Sierra Renae, that five-star hard-to-book cruise. But as usual, I can pull my strings and get them in. Because the manager there loves a little publicity and owes me a favor.”
“How do you get all of these people to owe you favors?” Fia was continually astounded by Gracie’s ability to get tickets and reservations at even the most rare and hard-to-get venues.
“My special secret.”
“You must give a lot of BJs.”
“Oh, really? And you’re the one who didn’t want to climb a vag? You hypocritical bitch.”
“Kidding! You know I’m kidding.”
“What can I say; I’m just the queen of barter. I started small, but now everyone knows me and I’m hooked up.” Gracie smiled.
“Well, I’m glad you work with me because I’d hate to have to send my dates to McDonald’s. Even though I love a good McNugget now and then.”
“Right? But I could make a joke right now about the Special Sauce.”
“Okay, but how about you don’t do that, and we act like you did.”
“Deal. Do you think Dylan will share his Special Sauce with Kellie?”
“Stop! You said you weren’t going to do it!”
“That’s what she said. Sorry! Okay, I’m done.”
The dock was breezy and cool, and Fia’s hair blew in the wind. She pushed it back with an idle hand, scanning the vicinity for Dylan. He was probably going to do a grand entrance, limo style again, at Chelsea’s urging. She sighed. This time she had Gracie with her for moral support, and Gracie was morally supporting her by chatting vivaciously with her favorite cameraman—Peter—who’d come to follow Dylan around. Gracie’s face, animated and lit-up, was pink with excitement. Peter smiled and touched her arm.
“Fia!” Chelsea’s perfume preceded her, and her hair, stiff with hairspray and gel, didn’t budge. “So good. So excited.” She took both of Fia’s hands, squeezed, then let go. “Pete, set up to the left, please. Karen, grab the right side. Kiki, I need powder, my face feels so greasy. Ugh. Do it now, before they start filming. Is the light right? You know I prefer shooting from the left, that’s my better side.”
The team, clearly accustomed to the routine demands, erected their equipment smoothly, creating a mini set overlooking the water.
When the cameras flashed go, Chelsea’s harried expression instantly turned to eager pleasantry. “So we’re back with Fia, who’s setting up my co-host Dylan on his second date with her company. The first time she tried, she came up a little bit short! So let’s see if she really pulled out all the stops this time around and created a perfect date for Dylan.” She smiled, showing all of her teeth.
Fia smiled back, showing all of hers. She could do this. Dylan was right; all publicity was good if you could play it correctly. “Thanks so much, Chelsea! It’s awesome to be back on the show to share the expertise of Perfect Profiles with all of your viewers. As you all know, we’ve had over a hundred successful matches and twenty marriages! Don’t worry, Chelsea. Dylan’s a tough customer and hard to please, but we’re ready to work our magic to help him find his happy-ever after. Today we’re setting him up with Kellie McDanvers, a pediatrician and author who’s written several bestselling children’s books. You’ve probably seen her works in your local bookstore.”
“Okay, and—”
Fia continued, cutting off Chelsea with a smile. “And as always at Perfect Profiles, we never want our clients to feel bad if a match doesn’t work. We’ll keep going until we find the perfect, magical chemistry that needs to be there. So while both of our clients are awesome people, if they don’t hit it off, we just keep looking. Our motto is that we never give up on you because you’re worth it.” She smiled beatifically.
Chelsea gave the smallest frown, but covered it quickly. “Great to hear, Fia, great to hear. So tell me what location you’ve chosen for this amazing date?”
“Well, Chelsea”—she felt comfortable, like her arms were loose this time—“we’ve been lucky enough to get a spot aboard the world-famous Sierra Renae for a romantic dinner cruise along the shore. Managed by Captain Dom Daniels and with chef Simon Chooch aboard, these two are in for the best cruise of their lives.”
“Well, let’s welcome Kellie. Come on over here and say hi!” Chelsea gestured to the woman waiting at the side, and Kellie walked up, looking eager but slightly nervous. She rubbed her hands together and bit her lip.
“Kellie.” Fia gave her a hug. “Thanks for coming on TV for this date! I really hope this works out.”
Kellie seemed to relax, because her face softened into a smile. “Thanks, Fia! I have to admit I’m a little nervous, but also super excited! Dylan looked so cute and fun on TV, and when you said I was a great match, I felt it was something I absolutely needed to, you know, try.”
“And here he comes!” proclaimed Chelsea, as the limo pulled up.
Dylan got out, and Fia got a weird sense of déjà vu, seeing him step out, shiny shoe and expensive slacked leg, then the rest of him, strong and tall and handsome. Like last time, he sought out her eyes first before glancing at the rest of the group, his gaze lingering on Kellie.
Fia bit her lip. He hadn’t stared that way at Altera. Did this mean he had some instant attraction to Kellie? Were they really going to be a match? She forced herself to relax. Of course they were! Her system was infallible, after all…it worked. Period. She’d seen all of the successful matches and knew she was good at doing it. But still, something about watching it happen in front of her eyes this time, didn’t feel right.
Kellie seemed to be as rapt as Dylan. She bounced a little and giggled, shot Fia a happy smile, and melted into Dylan’s arms when he came up to kiss her cheek.
“So good to meet you!” she enthused.
Dylan seemed likewise excited. “You too,” he said, and sounded like he meant it.
This time, he stood beside Kellie and held her hand. There were no jokes about naturalists hiding in the bushes, and no more looking into Fia’s eyes.
“Looks like these two are really going to hit it off!” said Chelsea. “Have a great time, you two. Don’t do anything I wouldn’t do.” She laughed raucou
sly, and Fia tried not to roll her eyes. The more time she spent with Chelsea, the less time she wanted to devote to future time-spending with Chelsea. On her morning show, Chelsea came across as brassy and witty, sharp but also kind. In real life, though? Unfiltered, unscripted? She was more like a basic bitch.
Once Dylan and Kellie were aboard the yacht, with Peter and crew following, the on-site setup dismantled quickly. It was like the carnival after the guests had left, with only a few lights blinking out slowly, and dirty wrappers idling in the muddy boot prints. Within minutes, the only reminder something had happened here at all was the Morning Brew van revving its engine along the street, and the flickering lights of the yacht, lit up as it slowly glided into the brilliantly backlit sky.
Fia felt a little forlorn. “Well,” she said, looking at Grace. “So, that happened.”
“Yes, it did.” Grace followed the yacht’s progress with her eyes. “Kellie seemed so happy and excited, and Dylan was definitely more in the moment than with Altera. Don’t you think?”
Fia nodded. “Yeah, I do.” She shook out one foot. “God, these heels are fucking killing me.”
“Take them off.” Grace smiled. “Go barefoot. Be wild and free.”
“Really? Then when my feet swell up and I can’t get the shoes back on, and I have to step on needles and broken glass and hepatitis on the way back to my car, it will really be a fun time.”
“You seem a little cranky,” observed Grace. “What’s going on?”
Fia shrugged. “Chelsea, I guess. She’s kind of abrasive. You know, when she’s here in all her uncut glory, she’s not as nice as she seems on TV.”
“Totally. And I like the word uncut. She’s like an uncircumcised cock, but one that got all smegma-y and gross because its owner didn’t wash.”
“Yes. Exactly what I was thinking. So common these days for a woman to be an uncut bitch.”
“Right?” Grace was silent for a few seconds, then she said, “What’s really wrong, though?”
Fia tilted her head. “I don’t know. Nothing.”
“Okay.” Gracie rolled her eyes. “I think you like Dylan.”
Perfect Match Page 7
