Dating Lazer: The Billionaire Matchmaker, Part Four

by Robinson, Gina

  "We've both been naïve about this new venture and made some missteps," I said.

  "We're back on track now," he said. "December?"

  "Busy," I said, and smiled. "The holidays are full of hope and frustration. Facing the holidays as a single person, again, is no fun for anyone. People are looking for dates for holiday parties. And especially for New Year's Eve. That's the biggie. No one wants to face the New Year alone." I became thoughtful.

  "January, with all the New Year resolutions, is another month where people are determined to make this the year they find the one. February you have Valentine's Day, which is as bad as New Year's, with even more pressure. Then we glide through spring. Things taper off in the summer. Fall picks up. And we repeat. That's pretty much the year."

  "Will you be here for New Year's?" he asked.

  "I wasn't planning on it," I said. "I always spend New Year's Eve in Times Square with friends."

  He nodded. "Think you can find the guys dates for New Year's Eve?"

  "I can try," I said. "And speaking of the holidays, it's time to pay the piper, Lazer, darling. You owe Danika some dates."

  "Good. I can't wait," he said. "Dating her means I get a postmortem with you. I've missed our day-after date evaluation sessions. I have some fun things planned."

  Lazer

  We took the beta public on the first of December and nearly crashed our site, the app was so popular. We'd benefited greatly from the recent release of a popular app that encouraged people to find cartoon characters in the great outdoors. Crazy as it sounded, that paved the way for us. As it turned out, single people liked the treasure-hunting aspect of our app, too. People who'd grown up on Where in the World is Carmen Sandiego? went wild playing a real-world version of Where in the City Are All the Single People Hanging? Ashley had been right: nearly every single in the city was looking to score a date for the holidays.

  We launched the citywide beta with a second appearance on Northwest Mornings. Just the guys and me this time around.

  Host Sheri Carmichael was her usual fawning self. "Ladies, these hotties are still in the dating pool! Why haven't you men been snapped up since we last met over a month ago? Did you and your corded abs just show up last time to tease us?" She made pouty lips and shook her finger at us like we were naughty boys.

  Austin fielded the question. "If only that were true! Believe us, Sheri, we're a bunch of lonely guys who'd like to bring a girl home to Mom for the holidays. That was the original plan. Unfortunately, the app turned out to be more complicated than we originally anticipated. We've been heads down working on it so we can fully devote our time and attention to dating."

  Her eyes lit up. "Now that's what we want to hear! All work and no play is not the way to live life to the fullest." She made a point of looking around. "Weren't you working with a matchmaker? What happened to her? Did she bail on you?"

  "Don't blame Ashley for our lack of success," Jeremy said in his laid-back, soft-spoken way. He spoke with just enough defensiveness on Ashley's part to make the live audience swoon a little.

  "We put the matchmaking on hold while we finished the app and got it ready for market," Jeremy said. "We're ready for the dating scene now."

  I stepped in. "The unfortunate timing is my fault. When we were here last time, I was overly optimistic about how close we were to launching. I jumped the gun. Our approach to matchmaking is twofold—you can use the app or our matchmaking and job placement services, or combine them. For now, we're launching the app for free for a limited time." I detailed the beta.

  "Lazer, you've personally been using the matchmaking services," Sheri said. "You've been seen about town with a number of beautiful women. No perfect match yet? Or are you continuing your playboy ways?" She looked at me with her serious journalist expression, as if my dating life was as important as national security.

  "The first months in any matchmaking program, the clients are encouraged not to be exclusive with anyone," I said. "I'm just following orders."

  Sheri cocked her head. "Does this mean you'll be going exclusive with someone soon?"

  I smiled mysteriously. What the hell was I doing? All I knew for sure was that I was taking Danika to The Nutcracker on Friday night. And could hardly wait to get through that evening so I could hang out with Ashley on Saturday.

  One of the perks of being a billionaire is you have money to patronize the arts. And throw around in general. Which means you buy season tickets to all kinds of things you don't really plan on showing up for. And get the best seats for your effort.

  I had prime seats in a private box at The Nutcracker. I would have rather taken Ashley. But that was too public a thing for the non-dating dating we appeared to be doing.

  This game we were playing had gotten absurd. It was a game the old me would have thrown the towel in on months ago. Women think that playing hard to get is the way to capture a man's heart. Before Ashley, if a woman played hard to get with me for too long, I let her go. I enjoy a chase. Up to a point. I didn't use to play these kinds of games. A woman who wanted to be purely platonic for months on end? A deal breaker. Too much trouble. Too full of herself.

  Ashley was different. I wanted to be with her all the time. I wanted sex with her all the time. I enjoyed her company so much that she felt worth the chase and the deprivation. Since Ashley had moved to Seattle, dating the women Ashley set me up with and not pressing for sex had been easy. To my own surprise, I didn't want anyone but her.

  Each date brought the point home further. As I eliminated woman after woman as the one, the growing suspicion I'd had from the first time Ashley mentioned it solidified. But was Ashley really my perfect match?

  Whether we matched scientifically or not was almost beside the point. But I was almost certain we did. Judging by the way she made me feel, the way we got along, and the way I wanted her more than I'd wanted any woman. And not just for one night, or a fling. Those were quickly losing their appeal in the light of Ashley’s intelligence, curiosity, humor, and charm.

  Unless I missed my guess, pointing out to me how perfectly we matched had been her game plan all along. And, by the way, she'd cheated by taking that test herself and implying my perfect match was among the women in the dating pool. It was a cheap trick. But effective.

  Her tactics amused me. And frustrated me. She was outplaying me at my own game. I wanted her. But could I give her the shot at commitment that she wanted and demanded? I had a pretty strong idea her perfect match, at least from her tools and surveys, was me. But I wanted to test that a little further. Play the game my way for a while longer.

  I took Danika out to dinner before the ballet at one of Seattle's top Italian restaurants. Danika could be a little harsh for my tastes. Brash. Outspoken. And though I could grudgingly concede she was a nice-looking woman, her particular looks didn't appeal to me. And she nearly always wore black. I wondered if anyone would notice that I wasn't dating to type. Good thing love was famous for being fickle.

  We'd each dressed in evening wear for the occasion. As I requested, we were seated in a cozy, romantic corner. Even tucked away, we drew stares.

  Danika noticed the attention we were drawing immediately. "So this is what it's like to be you? Everywhere you go, you get noticed." Her tone was neutral. More a statement of fact laced with the tiniest bit of satisfied curiosity and maybe a hint of awe.

  "Pretty much. But Seattle, as a city and culture, respects the privacy of her billionaires. People are polite. They look, but they usually leave me alone."

  "Billionaires!" She laughed. "You say that so matter-of-fact. As if there's a billionaire on every corner."

  "Who's saying there isn't?" I said with a tease. "We have enough to have a club, EIEIO."

  She raised an eyebrow. "You have to explain that abbreviation. It sounds very…farmerish."

  I laughed. "It's meant to be ironic. This evening is off the record?"

  "Naturally." She returned my smile, but hers was more like that of a worthy adversary.
"But, fair warning, I'm writing a book about my experience here."

  "Anything I tell you about EIEIO won't be in it."

  She looked intrigued. And tempted to know more. "A secret society?"

  "A group of friends who value their privacy." I raised my glass of wine to her. "To keeping secrets?"

  She raised hers. "To promising to mask any details so that they're practically unrecognizable."

  We clinked glasses. I gave her the basics of EIEIO. She was the perfect date in one respect—she showed interest in me. Maybe too much. She asked questions, mostly about the billionaire life. Which made me cautious. What was she after?

  "I don't want to spend all night talking about me. That's boring."

  "Not to me," she said. "My readers will be entranced by the billionaire lifestyle."

  I raised an eyebrow. "I see. I'm crushed. You're just as shallow and self-interested as most people." I grinned at her. "FYI, it's best not to admit things like that while on a date. You've wounded my vanity. I can take it. But not every guy is so understanding."

  She laughed, nearly spitting out the mouthful of wine she'd been about to swallow. "Wounded! You're funny. Unlike the other women you've been dating, I'm under no false pretenses here. I'm the equivalent of your beard, your front, a woman you can openly date while chasing Ashley around with a sprig of mistletoe, hoping to corner her during the holidays."

  "Sprig of mistletoe!" I laughed a little too loudly.

  The people at the next table turned to look at us and see what the joke was.

  I leaned across the table toward Danika and lowered my voice. "I don't need mistletoe to get a kiss."

  "Maybe not. But you need the pretense of it, the cover of mistletoe to mask your real desires and feelings. Just like you need me. How much do you enjoy dating the rest of the bimbos in our little group?"

  "Bimbos?" I said. "That's harsh. You're part of a group of accomplished, beautiful women."

  She laughed. "I know the party line. But you'd have to be a fool not to see what Ashley is up to. She's setting you up with women who are what you think you want. She's making the point about the difference between women you date and women of substance that you marry."

  I laughed again, liking Danika more and more. "You think I don't know that?"

  "So what are you going to do about it?" Her eyes were full of interest.

  "I'm going to keep playing the game." I looked at her intently, trying to read her. "This is all for Pair Us. If I have to date a series of beautiful women, it's a hardship." Not. "But I'm willing to take one for the team on this. This venture could make me, us, a lot of money."

  "Very generous, and greedy, of you," she said, trying to keep a straight face. "Except that the rules say you get no sex. Given your reputation, that little stipulation has to be a hardship."

  "Rules are meant to be broken."

  "I can believe that of you. And I might think some of the women would be willing to bend, break, or twist the rules and put out in the hopes they'll catch you.

  "But Ashley's no fool. Sending those three women home days after we arrived for sleeping with the locals pretty much sealed your celibacy. She made it clear she won't tolerate any violations. And has eyes in the back of her head." She paused. "Ashley is pretty brilliant. A real strategist. I hope you realize what you're up against."

  "A worthy adversary is what makes the game fun." I was enjoying this conversation more and more. If I had to admit it, this was the most fun I'd had on one of my official matchmaking dates yet.

  "You should learn how to put on a poker face when you talk about her. You're beaming like an idiot in love."

  I shook my head. "Don't let your journalistic instincts and desire to root out a story run away with you. It's my love of the game you're seeing."

  "Deny it if you want," she said. "But remember, fun is one thing. Just don't get carried away." She paused. "Ashley is perfect for you. I hope you're not foolish enough to miss it. I don't know what's scared you off commitment, but you'd be crazy to let her slip away. Whether it's obvious to you and Ashley or not, it's clear to me that you two belong together."

  "We're talking about me again," I said, deflecting. "What do you want out of our arrangement?"

  "To live like a billionaire," she said without hesitating. "To appear to be desired by Seattle's hottest bachelor. To have the cachet of having dated one of the country's richest, most eligible men. To have stories to tell my grandchildren. Interesting stories that make old Grandma eccentric."

  "To have fodder for your book?"

  "That too." She paused. "As I said, I want to know what it's like to live in the limelight."

  I got the feeling there was something specific about her quest. She wasn't just idly curious. "Why?"

  She shrugged.

  I didn't buy her nonchalant attitude. "This is off the record."

  "I might be interested in a certain man who could be coming into a lot of money soon." She rested her hands in her lap. "I'd like to try the lifestyle on for size before I decide to pursue it…him."

  I studied her. There's an art in knowing when to push. I let it go. "Fair enough." I hesitated just a minute. "Can I give you a word of advice?"

  She nodded.

  "Wear something other than black all the time," I said. "Spice up your wardrobe with color."

  She glanced down at her black evening gown. "Black is a perfect color for evening."

  "True. So is red." I lifted an eyebrow.

  She laughed.

  After dinner, we took our seats in our box at the ballet. I made a point of showing a great deal of attention to Danika. She was an intelligent woman with a wicked sense of humor. She knew reams about ballet and The Nutcracker specifically. The dancing seemed to move her. I enjoyed the comments and commentary she whispered in my ear. As a consequence, I appreciated the ballet more than I had before.

  I was sure we looked very cozy to the outside world. Unless I missed my guess, our date would be trending on social media.

  As the ballet ended, I suddenly realized something. I leaned into Danika and whispered in her ear, "Which one of my friends are you after?"

  Chapter 13

  Lazer

  Chasing after Ashley with a sprig of mistletoe! Danika cracked me up. But I had to give her credit. It was an apt description.

  As a result of that date to the ballet, Danika and I became friends and wary confidants. I looked forward to our dates to hear her opinions as much as anything else. There was no sexual chemistry between us. None. I wasn't sure we even faked it very well. But she was fun to hang out with, spar with, and there was no pressure with her except to keep up with her and her intellectual curiosity. She knew something about everything, but not in a know-it-all way.

  She kept me informed of all the gossip—what was going on with the women, who was mad at whom, and what my strategy should be. The best part of "dating" Danika was the date postmortem day with Ashley.

  "How are you handling the jealousy over being my favorite?" I asked Danika after our second date.

  "I've been to war-torn areas. Compared to that, this is nothing. I can handle myself," she said. "As long as it keeps their suspicions off you and Ashley, I'm good."

  I hoped she was right. The gossip she reported to me was vicious. Lottie had heard it too, and even suggested I take another of the women out. I was having too much fun with Danika. I was getting too comfortable with her.

  Riggins held a Christmas party on his yacht and participated in the Christmas Ship Parade every year. The parade was a Seattle tradition. Riggins, Haley, Justin, and Kayla would all be attending. My invitation to the party included a plus-one. I wanted my friends to meet Ashley. I needed to know if they would see the same thing Danika saw—a man in love. Was I fooling myself? Or was this a brilliant move in this dance Ashley and I were performing?

  I probably should have asked Danika to come with me. It would have looked more natural. And she would have been thrilled to hang with a duke and his
duchess, and more billionaires. More stories for her old age and those grandchildren she imagined having.

  But I was weak. I wanted a real date. I wanted Ashley.

  I pitched it to her as a chance to meet some of my other friends and business associates. "You'll have to sing, you know," I said. "It's the aquatic version of Christmas caroling. If you don't sing, we make you walk the plank."

  "Yachts have planks now?" She smirked. "Good to know."

  "So? Will you sing with me?" I wasn't sure why that was so important to me. Maybe Danika was right. Maybe I was falling in love. Though this didn't feel like any version of love I'd felt before.

  Usually I fell easily, and temporarily, in love. I was hooked on that feeling. The quick lust. The fast desire. The high of happiness that new love brought.

  I'd had that ignited lust with Ashley from the start. But the idea of being in love was coming slower. As if it was more important to get it right this time. Whatever this was, there was no doubt I was addicted her. I liked her more than I liked just about anyone. She was the one I wanted to show off to my friends.

  Ashley accepted. I bought a whole bouquet of mistletoe and red roses. Just in case. It was more dignified than carrying a sprig in my pocket. Riggins usually had mistletoe all over the yacht, but what the hell.

  Ashley

  I was surprisingly nervous about meeting Lazer's billionaire friends. I wanted to make a good impression, obviously. I'd heard so much about them. But were they down to earth like Lazer's regular guy friends? Would I fit in?

  Lazer and I boarded Riggins' yacht for the Christmas Ship Parade and were greeted by Riggins and his wife, and duchess, Haley. There was a moment where I stammered, wondering what to call him.

  "We're American," he said, reading my confusion. "I'm American. At home in Seattle, I'm Riggins. My wife is Haley."

  "Where's my godson?" Lazer asked.

  "In his nursery onboard with the nanny." Riggins beamed with pride. "He's a joy. And a handful. This wouldn't be much of a party if he gets worked up. Only a few months old and he rules the place."