by Haley Weir
Before he could do much web surfing, a prim and pleasant female’s voice drew his attention. “Mr. Sinclair? If you would come with me.” The tall, leggy brunette waved for him to follow her.
“Ms. Prince, I presume?” he said, not knowing what else to say. He preferred not to be here and did not want to say anything at all. “Thanks for fitting me into your schedule.”
Ms. Prince extended her hand to him with a slight smirk tugging at the corner of her lips. “You’re welcome.”
The moment their hands met a tingle of electricity surged up his arm. It took everything in him not to break away from her. He glanced down at the floors around them, but they were all hardwood. What the hell was that?
“Let’s go back to my office. We have much to discuss, Mr. Sinclair.” Without waiting for him to say another word, she walked off as if she knew he would follow her, and he did.
The interior of her large office was similarly decorated to the rest of the building, but even more impressive. A large white couch faced a big flat screen TV mounted on the wall. She had a metal and glass desk with a white vase, a computer, and some sort of purple flowers.
Instead of going to the desk like he’d expected she would, she daintily sat on the couch, crossing her legs before typing on a small keyboard that controlled the television. The screen changed to a form with various fields, asking lots of very personal questions.
Sighing, he took a seat beside her. “That’s a lot of questions.”
“Of course,” she replied. “To create the perfect match, I need to understand how your mind works. What you truly seek in a female companion.” She set the keyboard aside for a moment and turned to him. “Now, I’ll be honest. I sense that you’re here but, perhaps, not exactly because you wish to be. The process that you’ll undertake to find the woman of your dreams will require you to keep an open mind and an open schedule. It will start with me asking you the questions and creating your profile. After that, you’ll be matched with someone, and the two of you will go on a date. If for any reason your match isn’t perfect, we will repeat the process until we get it right. Do you understand?”
Noah wanted to roll his eyes and walk out of there. She sensed that he didn’t want to be there? What was she, some kind of psychic? “I understand. That sounds pretty straight forward, so I’ll do what is necessary for all of this.” He glanced over at the big screen again, trying not to get defensive and shut down emotionally. He’d love to lie his ass off, but that wouldn’t help him. He’d probably get stuck in matchmaking hell and would have to repeat the process over and over again.
Ms. Prince repositioned the keyboard in her lap again, apparently satisfied with her answer. “Do you have any questions for me? Shall we begin?”
"No, no questions from me." Of course he had several bubbling in his brain, but the sooner they got through this, the sooner he could leave her pristine office. He glanced at the screen. "My name is Noah Sinclair." He answered each question and did his best not to squirm in his seat when they moved on to stuff like favorite hair colors on a woman and so on.
That kind of superficial stuff didn't really mean much to him. Shanna was a blonde. Madison was a brunette. Jackie was a redhead. He was all about exploring the different colors of the hair rainbow. That didn't sound like a great explanation though, so he kept that to himself.
When they were finally through with all of the questions, she hit a button on the keyboard. A loading screen blinked at them for a moment before Ms. Prince turned to him. A curious look lit her eyes. "Hmm... I don't feel like the right woman for you has approached us yet. I will be in touch shortly about a potential match."
The sense of smug relief he felt nearly made him smile, but he schooled his face, doing his best to look disappointed. "I see. Thank you for your help. I suppose we'll be in touch, then."
Ms. Prince stood with him. "You're quite welcome. I look forward to the challenge, as it were." She walked him out to the waiting room before bringing back another client.
As he walked out to his car, another strange emotion hit him. It almost felt like sadness. He was a “challenge”? He wasn't that complicated. Probably less complicated than his brothers were, so why hadn't he been able to match with someone? Maybe he was destined to be alone. His personality and life choices were trying to lead him on the right path, even if his brothers were pushing him toward something more traditional.
He sat in his car and leaned his head back against the seat. Still, the fact his brothers were able to find someone so easily while he couldn't, bothered him.
Noah decided to shrugged it off. This was fine. He would just keep pushing forward. Now, when Mason called Ms. Prince, he'd know Noah had gone through with his end of the deal, then they could start minding their own business.
Chapter Seven
Today was the day. She was going to do this and find someone of her own. With the purchase of a burner phone and a new email address, she felt ready. She called out of work, knowing she wouldn’t be able to look anyone in the eyes after doing this. Plus, she couldn’t do something like this from her office. It would all look way too suspicious, especially if someone were to walk through her door while she was in the process of answering the questions.
She had everything all set on the coffee table: her burner phone, her laptop, and a few note cards to help jog her memory about the story she'd come up with. She was more than ready. After taking a quick shot, she felt the slight burn of rum travel down her throat. The liquid courage helped, and she cleared her throat and dialed Prince Dating Agency on her burner phone.
The receptionist answered in her usual, cheerful way. "Hello, Prince Dating Agency. We're always here to help you find your perfect match. How may I help you?"
Isabella put on her best haughty, seductive voice. "Hello, I'm interested in becoming a client. I've heard much about your business from one of my friends."
The receptionist said, "Of course. I'd be happy to transfer you to one of our dating experts to schedule an appointment. Hold please."
"My apologies, but my schedule is incredibly busy. In fact, I'm in New York right now." She wanted to smack herself upside the head for the goofy lie, but she couldn't go into an in-person interview. If they insisted on it, she'd be in deep crap. "My friend said that phone interviews could be conducted?"
With a hesitant sigh, the receptionist's cheerful demeanor seemed to break for a moment before she quickly recouped it. "Certainly. I'll need to transfer you to Ms. Prince. She can best assist you with that process. Please hold."
The typical spa music played over the line, and Isabella felt her stomach tighten into knots. If Ms. Prince saw through her, she would be done for. But she couldn't let her thoughts venture down that path. She needed to remain positive and hope for the best. After she was on hold for a while, she started to wonder if either the receptionist or Ms. Prince forgot about her call. But the rum and spa music kept her soothed. If she wasn’t careful, she might zone out before Ms. Prince even answered the phone.
Just as Isabella considered hanging up and trying again, her boss's voice came over the line. "Hello? This is Ms. Prince. I've heard that you would like to schedule an over the telephone interview to become one of my clients. Is this correct?"
Isabella looked at the rum bottle, feeling her rapidly heart beating in her chest. "Of course," she replied. "My busy work schedule leaves me with little time. I, of course, have every intention of dating whomever is selected. My dear friend told me that they've found the man of their dreams at your agency. I admit, I was impressed. I doubted she might ever do such a thing."
"Love works in mysterious ways. I believe there is someone for everyone in this world. My aim is to bring those people together." Ms. Prince mentioned that concept during a couple of the meetings she'd held with everyone, but it had sounded like dating agency rhetoric. Now, it spoke to something buried inside Isabella.
"I am talking with the right woman then," Isabella commented, doing her best to keep up t
he accent as she spoke.
"I'm glad you agree. Hmm...yes, let’s schedule a meeting over the phone." Isabella heard her tapping on a few keys. "Actually, I have a few moments right now, since I rescheduled my day a little earlier. Does now work for you?"
Isabella's mouth dropped open. She couldn't believe it. Ms. Prince was always so busy. The fact she could speak with her was stunning. Good thing Isabella prepped for this.
"Of course, I am in between meetings right now myself. I'd be pleased to begin this process with you." She held the phone away from her mouth and took a swig of rum, needing more liquid courage and fast.
Isabella knew mostly what to expect since she performed a similar process for her own clients. She looked over her note cards that were spread out on the table. She resisted the urge to flip through them and create strange background noise.
The rapid fire questions went on forever. By the end, Isabella felt like her voice was going to crack from contorting it like that. It was certainly a different experience from this side of the table, and she felt a new sympathy for her clients. Not that she could help it. The questions were all necessary in order for Ms. Prince to correctly match their clients together.
With a couple more swigs of rum, she finished off all of the questions.
“Perfect. That was the last one. Now, let me see if I have a match here for you. Oh, yes. In fact I do.” Something in Ms. Prince’s pleasant tone nudged at the edge of her mind, but the alcohol-induced courage she felt didn’t seem to fully grasp it.
Isabella shoved any warning bells out the window. She had a match already? Excitement bubbled up inside of her. Her mind cycled through possibilities of the men she’d browsed through the agency’s existing profiles. Who would she be paired with? The Army vet? The businessman who liked blondes? Or someone else entirely?
“That’s,” she started in her own voice and mentally cursed herself. Her excitement and the few swigs of rums might be the axe falling down on her neck. She cleared her throat before trying again, “Excuse me. That’s great. I’m looking forward to finding out more about this gentleman.”
If Ms. Prince caught her slip, she didn’t let it show. “Of course. I’ll send over the details of your date soon. Will you be able to return to the area by tomorrow, or the day after?”
Isabella’s eyes scanned the index cards before hitting on the one she wanted. “I will. I am returning tomorrow afternoon briefly before embarking on my next trip.” She bit her lower lip, hating all of the lies.
“Good to hear,” Ms. Prince remarked. “Perhaps, if you get a chance, we can arrange an in-person meeting while you’re in town. I’m always delighted to shake my clients hands and speak with them face-to-face. There’s so much you can learn through one’s handshake.”
Meeting in person? There was no way she’d ever be able to do that, but she plastered a smile on her face, even though the other woman couldn’t see it. “Of course, I’d be happy to meet you if our schedules ever align. You mentioned I’ll be receiving details of the date soon? When can I expect those?” That hadn’t sounded incredibly pushy, had it? Then again, some of her rich clients were all about having things done in their time frame. It didn’t matter if there were other steps she needed to go through. They expected everything done right away.
"Perfect. I'll tell my receptionist to immediately inform me if that does happen soon. Yes, I will send you an email with the information once I've reached out to your date and confirmed the exact details with him. It typically takes no time at all. Do you have any other questions for me this afternoon?"
Isabella nearly breathed out a sigh of relief. That last sentence usually meant the phone call would soon be ending, and the moment couldn't come any sooner. Not only did she want to lean back and fall asleep, but all of the liquor had awoken her bladder. "I see. I'll keep an eye out for your email. No further questions here. Have a good afternoon, Ms. Prince."
"You as well."
The beep of the ended call drew out the sigh of relief Isabella had been holding in. She was thankful that was over with, but was so excited to have found a perfect match this early on. Or, her fake persona did, at least. She only hoped that she would hit it off with the man all the same. If he was some sort of rich snob, then she had no idea how she'd handle things. But the only thing she could do was maintain a positive attitude and hope for the best.
Chapter Eight
The phone rang. Noah lifted his head from Drew's couch and glanced over at the coffee table. After the appointment ended, he figured it would be a waste of time to return to the office for an hour or two before returning to Drew's apartment. The phone number looked vaguely familiar, but he couldn't recall where he'd seen it off the top of his head. "Hello?" he answered.
"Mr. Sinclair? Hello, this is Ms. Prince from Prince Dating Agency." She sounded pleased. "Is this a good time to talk?"
"Yes. Hello, Ms. Prince. I'm able to talk right now." The words came out in a jumbled rush. Why was he so anxious to hear what she had to say? The bundle of nerves in the pit of his stomach kept growing, which surprised him. "Has there been any news on a match?"
"There has been. In fact, I just finished speaking with the woman I’ll be matching you with.”
Noah jerked upright from the couch. He nearly dropped his phone when he heard that. She did what? “You did? I see. That’s great.” He wasn’t sure if he really thought that, but a tiny part of him was looking forward to this. “What’s next? You said before that the woman and I go on a date?”
Ms. Prince gave a haughty laugh. “You’ve been paying attention. I’m pleased to hear that. Yes, the two fo you will go on a date. She’s a busy woman, but she will be in town tomorrow, so does the evening work for you? I will need more details to provide her with such as a time and a location for the date.”
He blinked and his mind went blank. A busy woman who would only be in town tomorrow? He wasn’t sure he liked that. Wasn’t he supposed to have someone around to- he stopped that train of thought in its tracks. What the hell was he thinking? It didn’t matter if the chick was around or not. In fact, maybe it was good that she wasn’t. It’d give him more time to live his life, and this could work out well for both of them. There would be less strings attached.
“Mr. Sinclair? Are you still with me?” she asked, her tone sounding a little less than pleased to be kept waiting.
“I’m sorry. I was looking at my schedule,” he lied.
“And what does your schedule say?”
“Tomorrow works fine for me. I can meet her around eight o’clock tomorrow night, and I’ll take her to...” Mason had taken Ava to the seafood restaurant at the marina. Everything worked out well with the two of them. While he wouldn’t be taking this chick to his family’s yacht afterward, he could buy her a nice meal, right? “Hamilton’s at the Marina. It’s a seafood restaurant.”
“All right then. I will forward on this information to your date. I’ve attached some information about her in an email that I’ve just sent to you.”
And just like that, he felt the ping of a new notification from his phone. “Thanks.”
“I’ve also sent plenty of dating tips in addition to what you’re expected to wear during the date. As you’ve picked an upscale restaurant with a dress code, I do hope you will abide by what I’ve sent you.” From the sound of her voice, he wondered if she thought he would show up to Hamilton’s in board shorts and a tank top.
Noah drew his eyebrows together, feeling anger bubble up inside him. It was one thing to feel like no one took him seriously at home and at work, but for this random woman to expect so little of him was unacceptable.
“Excuse me?” He drew in a breath, trying to get himself under control before he blew up at her, but that moment had already passed. “If you think you know me, then you know that my family comes from wealth. They didn’t raise me to be an ignorant shit. I do know how to dress at an upscale restaurant, Ms. Prince. I don’t need your condescending remarks.”
&nb
sp; Ms. Prince let out an amused chuckle. “Very well then. Some of my wealthier clients have surprised me. I don’t enjoy being surprised, but you’re correct. I was mistaken about you, Mr. Sinclair. If you have no other questions for me?”
“No, I don’t have any questions. If I do, I’ll shoot you an email,” he replied curtly.
“Good evening, then. I wish you the best of luck on your date.” The call ended before he could respond, but that was fine with him. He didn’t want to spend any more time talking with that woman.
Panic rose up instead of him. What was he going to do now? The few dates he’d been on were always casual. Now, he had a fancy date tomorrow at an upscale restaurant with a busy woman. He blew out a breath and scrolled through his contacts, looking for someone to ask for advice. But all of them knew who he was, and what he was about. They’d know something was fishy about him suddenly deciding to sign up with a dating agency to find a chick when he’d ranted and raved about how he loved the bachelor life and that he’d never change.
His gaze slid over to the front door. Drew might understand, especially considering his new status as an engaged man. Still, if he broke down and asked Drew for his advice, he might tell their friends, and then he’d never hear the end of it.
That meant he had only one place to turn to: the very men who put him into this situation in the first place. Hell, they owed him. He dialed up each of his brothers and told them to cancel their plans because he was going to pick their brains about this date.
They agreed to meet at the new Chinese restaurant nearby. It wasn’t far from the office or his Drew’s place. Besides, ever since they tried it yesterday, he’d been craving it. Their food was beyond his expectations, so why not enjoy themselves and eat while they got down to business?
