Perfect Match

by Lila Monroe

  “Auditions finished at noon,” she says around the gum she’s chewing. Then she looks me up and down and grins. “Although maybe they’ll make an exception for you.”

  “I’m actually looking for Connective, Inc? Or, at least, McKenna Delaney?”

  “Oh! The tech heads. They’re upstairs.” She points at the ceiling.

  Thank God.

  On the second floor, I find an open-plan space that looks more like a living room than an office. There are a couple of cheap desks set up in the middle of the room, some whiteboards filled with McKenna’s scribbling, but the rest of the room is filled with a couple of beat-up sofas and a coffee table. A skinny guy in a faded T-shirt and jeans is typing away on his laptop, and a familiar-looking blonde girl is flipping through magazines. She looks up.

  “I know you,” I pause, frowning. Then I realize it was her photos I swiped right for on that first date McKenna ambushed me. “You were the honeypot.”

  She grins. “Sorry, not sorry. McKenna!” she bellows. “Callahan’s here!”

  McKenna appears from an office. She looks flustered—and still, dangerously hot.

  “What are you doing here?” she asks, her dark eyes darting at me from under those glasses.

  “Checking out the goods, of course,” I reply. There’s a beat, and I realize how dirty that sounds. “The company,” I correct myself quickly. “I wanted to see where the magic happens.”

  Again, dirty.

  Dammit.

  “Of course,” McKenna says. Her face has turned redder, but she strides over with the brisk professionalism I’m used to from her. Her eyes don’t quite meet mine. “I wish you’d told me you were coming. We could have … We could have had more ready to show you.”

  “It’s fine,” I say, looking around. “I always prefer unexpected drop-ins. They give me a better sense of how the company really operates.”

  “Well, there isn’t that much to see.” She waves to the desks and the sofas. “This is the main workroom. I know it doesn’t look like much, but it’s all about the systems anyway. This is Warren, my programming whiz, and Riley, social media genius.”

  “Slash honeypot,” Riley grins.

  “Nice to meet you both.” I nod to Warren’s computer. “What are you working on right now?”

  He darts a glance toward McKenna before answering. “I’m looking over the data from the last week’s matches, seeing how many resulted in mutual matches, conversations, actual dates. We regularly tweak the algorithm if we see any areas it’s underperforming.”

  I stroll farther into the office to check out the rest of the space. The room she emerged from, what I assume is her office, is barely a room. No window. No space for anything except a small desk, a lamp, and some built-in shelves—crowded with psychology texts and journals, from the titles. The next door opens into a kitchen just big enough to hold a folding table. The last I assume is a bathroom. I swivel on my feet, taking in the whole place.

  McKenna folds her arms, looking defensive. “I know it’s not the most impressive space …”

  “It’s great,” I interrupt.

  McKenna blinks in surprise.

  “My first office was the size of a shoebox,” I tell her. “Over a Chinese restaurant. I ate like a king, but the whole place smelled like Peking duck. I would take the subway all across town and meet people in a coffee shop in the financial district, tell them my office was being redecorated right around the corner.”

  She relaxes a little. “How long did you pull that off?”

  “Just a year. After that, one of my first investments went public and blew up, and I was able to move to swankier digs. But everyone starts somewhere. There’s no shame in that.”

  “No. You’re right.” She straightens up and gives me a smile, and just like that, I need to kiss her again.

  “I, uh, wanted to go over the growth projections.” I fight to keep my focus.

  “Right now?” McKenna looks reluctant. “I have an appointment.”

  “Oh.”

  “I mean, if it’s important, I could cancel, but … I run this mentor group, for teen entrepreneurs,” she explains. “I don’t want to let them down.”

  “No, of course not,” I say quickly. “Is it far? I could give you a ride.”

  She pauses. “Would you … maybe want to come along? It’s just, I think it could be really inspiring for them, to talk to someone who’s actually made it. What you were saying about starting out, what it took to make it to the top … You’re probably busy,” she adds, but I shake my head.

  “No, I have some time.” I make a note to text Hallie and have her rearrange my schedule. “It sounds like fun.”

  “Great.” McKenna smiles, and the rest of my work day melts away.

  It’s not exactly a torrid afternoon in a hotel, but somehow, spending the day with her is enough to make all my frustrations vanish.

  But obviously, I have everything under control.

  16

  McKenna

  We head downstairs, and with every step, I’m way too aware of Jack behind me. He’s not even that close, but I feel his presence like a warmth on my back. I wish it was just embarrassment, but I keep remembering his hands on me. His mouth on my mouth, on my neck, on—

  Yeah. Halt that thought right there.

  “I can call my car,” he offers as we reach the front doors.

  I pause. “I usually take the subway. We meet right near a station. Or are you afraid to rub shoulders with the little people?” I tease.

  I should have known he’d rise to the challenge. “Subway it is,” he says, and glances around. “Ah, which way is that from here?”

  “Okay, let’s get you out of that bubble,” I laugh.

  “You can take me wherever you like.” He gives me that charming grin, and my panties are melting, just like that.

  Like, to bed …

  I jerk my gaze away and set off for the nearest subway station. Clearly, we’re pretending that night never happened, and that’s just fine with me. It was a blip. An error of judgment.

  The sexiest thing that’s ever happened to me—

  Nope!

  This early in the afternoon, the subway isn’t too crowded. Jack sits right next to me—why wouldn’t he? His thigh rests lightly against mine. I press my legs close together and contemplate the route map as if I haven’t taken this trip dozens of times before.

  “How long have you been mentoring this group?” Jack asks.

  That seems like a safe topic. “A couple years now. A friend suggested it, and I really like the work. A lot of these girls don’t get much support at home or in school, or have any role models in tech. I like to think it helps them see the paths they can take, if they want to.”

  He looks impressed. “It’s a great thing you’re doing, giving back. It’s easy to focus on your own career to the detriment of everything else. I can’t get along with people in my position who don’t take the time. And you’re …”

  “What, nearly destitute?” I crack.

  He chuckle. “I wouldn’t say that. But you’ve got less time and money to go around. That makes it even more admirable.”

  The compliment gives me that familiar bolt of heat in my body. The smell of his cologne tickles my nose, warm and spicy.

  Maybe if I breathe shallowly enough, it won’t affect me?

  I practically leap out of my seat when we reach our stop in the Bronx. “We meet at the library,” I tell Jack as we emerge onto the street. “They set the group up. But I figured out pretty early on that the girls are more talkative in a … less regimented environment. We usually head over to this coffee shop around the block. They’ve all got projects they’re working on, so we discuss them and then chat about school. You don’t have to stay for the whole thing if you’ve got other plans.”

  “No, it’s fine,” Jack reassures me. I wonder again why he’s tagging along like this. I’ve seen for myself how packed his schedule gets.

  Is this because he fe
els guilty about what happened?

  Worried?

  Panicked about a potential harassment suit?

  A couple of my girls are already waiting just inside the library doors. They’re all still sophomores and juniors in high school—with the attitude to match. Sabrina cocks her head and gives Jack a onceover, twisting one of her box braids between her fingers. “Who’s this dude?”

  “Jack Callahan. Pleased to meet you.” Jack offers his hand, appearing not at all phased by Sabrina’s lack of enthusiasm. She gives him a skeptical look as she shakes his hand.

  Daphne, who’s switched the streaks in her hair from orange to bright purple since I last saw her, laughs. “So posh! What’s he doing here, McKenna?”

  “Well, Jack is someone I might be working with,” I explain.

  “Will be working with,” Jack corrects me.

  I give him a puzzled look. “Anyway, I thought he could come sit in on the group,” I say. “He’s, ah, an investor. We’ve talked about how if you want to expand your business, you need to get external funding. Jack gives companies that funding and helps oversee their growth.”

  “Hmm,” Sabrina says. “Will you invest in my stuff?”

  “I’ll have to hear what that stuff is first, I think,” Jack says easily.

  Four of the other girls show up, and we amble over to the coffee shop. The girls chatter about school and boys, but as soon as we’re sitting, they’re all business.

  “Okay, okay,” says our youngest member, Kyrie, drumming her hands on the table. She set up a babysitting service for the neighborhood, using Facebook to find new clients from her family’s friends. “We’ve got to talk about me first. How do you get people to see your posts? I put them up and then get like two people liking it.”

  “A lot of social media platforms are harder for business,” I say. “One strategy I’ve seen is making sure you get lots of activity as soon as a post goes up. You all could set up a group chat and ping each other to like and comment, just to get the momentum going.”

  “Nice!” Kyrie says. “I’d totally be up for that.”

  Daphne raises her hand. “I’m having a problem with pricing. I’m hardly making any money on my designs after I pay for the supplies. But I’m scared if I raise them too much, no one’s going to buy.”

  “Have you looked at similar shops to see what they’re charging?” I ask. Daphne makes shirts and dresses out of vintage clothing she re-purposes.

  “Yeah, and a lot of them ask a lot more. But, I don’t know.” She scuffs her foot against the floor. “I think their clothes are better too.”

  “No way!” Sabrina says. “Your stuff is awesome. People should be paying you ten times more.”

  Jack leans his elbows on the table. “You know, I’ve seen a lot of businesses rise and fall. And I can tell you one of the most important factors is believing in your own product. You have to have the confidence to say, ‘Yes, what I’m doing is worth this much.’ If you can convince yourself of that, then it’s a lot easier to get everyone else in line.”

  All the girls are looking at him, and none of them looks particularly impressed.

  “Like you ever had problems charging people.” Sabrina snorts. “You look like you were born into that fancy suit.”

  Jack just smiles. “Maybe I do now, but I promise you I wasn’t. When I was a kid, I was lucky if I got to wear hand-me-downs that fit. The only thing I had that was of any value was this.” He taps his head. “So I studied my heart out so I could get a scholarship into one of the best boarding schools in the country. And that was where I got my first business started.”

  “Did they help you at the school?” Kyrie asks.

  Jack shakes his head. “No. I had to figure it out for myself. The other students weren’t all that inclined to be friendly to a scholarship brat. But I watched and I listened, and I figured out how to blend in so they stopped remembering I wasn’t just like them. And most of all I paid attention to what they needed. Then I worked out how to give it to them for a price.” He grins.

  Sabrina looks enthralled despite herself. “Like what?”

  “Oh, I did homework for the other students, tutored people, too. It didn’t cost anything to start those sorts of ventures up. Do a good job, and word starts to get around. Then I branched out in every way I could. Stocked up on people’s favorite snacks and sold them at a mark-up. I even arranged a local housekeeping service to come in and clean up the dorms, when everyone wouldn’t pick up after themselves.”

  His grin widens. “See, the thing about rich people is most of them are fundamentally lazy. They’ll pay for you to do just about anything if it means they don’t have to lift a finger.”

  I’ve read interviews where Jack talked about getting his start in school, but he’s never gone into that much detail. It’s difficult to picture the devil-may-care yet polished guy beside me poring over textbooks or scrambling to make ends meet. But I can tell from the way he tells the story that it’s all true.

  He nods to me. “McKenna is the expert on what it’s like making your way up the ladder as a woman. I know that’s got to be at least twice as hard. But I’m proof that it’s absolutely possible to get all the way to the top even if you start at the bottom. You’ve just got to look for your openings, jump on them the second you see them, and never let on that you’re anything but one-hundred percent sure of yourself.”

  There’s a moment of silence as all the girls stare at him. Then they all burst out with questions at the same time.

  “What about start-up funds?”

  “How do you meet the rich people?”

  “My mom says the taxman takes everything.”

  By the time the girls have sated their curiosity—and gotten a thorough lesson in business strategy, Jack Callahan-style—our time is up. Sabrina groans when she sees the drizzle that’s started outside. They all hurry out, waving goodbye to both me and Jack. “Bring him again sometime, okay?” Daphne whispers to me.

  “Maybe,” I agree with a smile.

  The drizzle is already thickening into outright rain. Jack stops beside me. “Still want to take the subway?” he teases.

  I laugh. “OK, maybe having a chauffeur-driven car on call isn’t the worst thing in the world.”

  “Nah, today I’m slumming it with a cab,” he jokes. “Come on, we’re heading in the same direction anyway. And I’d hate to see you ruin another shirt.”

  He tugs gently at my sleeve. Barely grazing my skin, but I feel the contact all the way up my arm. I squash the urge to step closer to him.

  It would be safer to part ways now. But I really don’t want to end up drenched either.

  “Okay,” I agree.

  We make a run for it and pile into a cab. The dappling of rain in his hair only makes him look more charmingly rumpled, and I grip my purse to keep from touching. He has no idea how hot he is right now.

  “Thanks for talking with the girls,” I say. “Sharing all those experiences from when you were younger. Those are the stories they need to hear.”

  He looks over. “You sound surprised.”

  “Maybe I am. You don’t talk about your childhood.”

  He shrugs. “It’s better to focus on the success than the parts before it.”

  I’m not so sure. I had no idea he had that kind of depth to him. Now I don’t just want to jump his bones. I want to hear all about his journey getting here.

  Yep. A total goner. Hook, line, and sinker.

  Maybe that’s why I hear myself admitting, “I think I needed to hear that pep talk too. About confidence and all that.”

  Jack guffaws. “You? You’re one of the most confident people I’ve ever met.”

  I make a face. “I put on a good show, I guess. And I’m confident about some things. But … You have no idea how worried I’ve been about Perfect Match. I’ve put so much into that app,” I admit. “And now I’ve dragged Warren and Riley along for the ride too. My life savings are on the line, and I don’t know if I’ll com
e up with anything else half as good. I can’t help being afraid I’m going to do something that screws it up.”

  Like hooking up with my investor.

  Jack is quiet for a moment. Did I say too much? I look down at my hands, biting my lip. I’m just about to come up with some breezy remark to counter the serious mood when he clears his throat.

  “Like me,” he says.

  “What?”

  His smile is softer this time, but that doesn’t make it any less melting. “You don’t want to do anything that screws your chances up. Like me.”

  “Yeah.” I swallow hard. It isn’t totally true. Right then, with the way he’s looking at me, there’s very little I want more than to “do” him. I’m not even sure if he leaned over and kissed me right now that I’d push him away.

  He doesn’t, though. He just nods. “I get it. I didn’t mean for— Well. We’re on the same page now. Professional. And I want to tell you, I’m in. The funding is yours.”

  “It is?” I stare at him. Did he really just— I’ve got the funding? For real? “But what about our deal? I haven’t found your perfect match.”

  Jack gives a wry laugh. “I think it’s clear that’s not going to happen. But just because it won’t work for me doesn’t mean it’s not a great company. Get your wide program started,” Jack continues. “I shouldn’t have wasted time making you jump through all those hoops anyway. You’ve got a great product, and I think together, we can really make this something. OK?”

  “I, um, yes!” I exclaim, amazed. “Oh my God, thank you!”

  I almost hug him, but stop myself just in time.

  Jack’s eyes drop to my lips. I pause, my heart racing.

  Is he going to kiss me again?

  The car stops with a jerk. We’ve reached my office. Jack looks away. “Hallie will send over the paperwork. Have your lawyer read it over, and get us back a draft whenever you can.”

  “Thank you,” I say again, and then I’m out on the sidewalk and the car is whisking him away. It’s still drizzling, but I stand there in a daze.

  He’s investing in Perfect Match. My company, ready for the big time with one of the hottest investors in the business.