Mister Match (The Match Series Book 1)

by Morris, Catherine Avril

  So he went for pretty, girl-next-door types rather than young, thin, exotic models. Lisa did her best not to smile. There was something extremely cute about that.

  Not that she cared one bit what kind of woman Adam Masters was attracted to.

  Adam grinned. “So this is the kind of thing women talk about when they’re alone together. I’ve always wondered. Are you writing a book about men’s hormonal surges, or something?”

  “Thinking about it,” Clare tossed back. “Working here definitely gives me plenty of material.”

  “I’ll bet.” Approaching her desk, he reached into the back pocket of his slacks for his billfold.

  “You can pay now, if you like,” Clare said, “or just have the session charged to your room.”

  “Could you bill my room? I’m in six-fifty-three. Last name Masters.”

  “Masters, six-fifty-three.” Clare tapped at her computer and then gave him a dazzling smile as she reached for one of Lisa’s business cards from the little holder on the counter. “It’s taken care of. Here, take a card. Call us whenever you need anything. Anything at all.”

  “Um, great. Thanks.” He took the card with a funny little laugh, and slipped it into his pocket.

  When he turned to Lisa, she felt her stomach give a quick little thrill.

  “Well,” he said, and smiled at her in a way that made that little thrill turn into something even warmer inside her. “I don’t know about you, but I feel like I could nap for the rest of the day.”

  “Um...” she stammered. What, was he about to ask her up to six-fifty-three to crash out with him for an hour or two?

  Immediately, she felt silly. Obviously, the man was just making polite conversation. “A nice, long nap sounds perfect. I wish I could join you.”

  The second the words were out of her mouth, she wished fervently that she could suck them right back in, or, failing that, give herself a few sharp kicks to the shins. Could she possibly be any more awkward? No. No, she could not.

  By some miracle, Adam gave an easy laugh, as if she hadn’t just said the most inappropriate thing possible. “Well, I know I have to work, and I’m sure you do too, so a nap is probably out for both of us.” He cleared his throat, and his voice took on an endearingly vulnerable note. “But I don’t suppose you’d happen to have a few minutes to grab some coffee, or maybe a quick lunch? I was thinking of going to this little Thai hole in the wall I saw a few blocks from here.”

  “Oh, that place is nasty,” Clare piped up. “I swear they use dog meat in their pad Thai. Or maybe it’s grackles,” she mused, referring to the black birds with harsh, grating calls that plagued Austin’s downtown area.

  Adam laughed and grimaced. “Yikes. That doesn’t sound too good, although I’m usually pretty adventurous about food.” He looked at Lisa. “Is there someplace around here that you like?”

  Lisa opened her mouth to speak, but nothing came out. After her nap comment, that was probably a good thing.

  And it didn’t matter anyway, since Clare had apparently appointed herself Social Director for what was—shockingly, unbelievably—shaping up to be some kind of date with Adam Masters. “Sushi,” Clare said now, decisively. “There’s a great place on Congress. They’ve got thirteen different kinds of sake.”

  Adam raised his eyebrows at Lisa. “How does that sound? A protein and wasabe buzz, maybe a little iced sake on the side?” He glanced at his watch, and frowned. “Although, I do have an appointment in a couple hours, and I guess it’s a little on the early side for day drinking. But sushi would be really fun... If you’re up for it?”

  His voice lifted just slightly on the last word, a nervous rise, and Lisa felt her heart go all gooey. Skipping out on the rest of her workday to eat some sushi with Adam Masters? It didn’t sound fun. It sounded like heaven.

  And it sounded impossible. She was at work, he was a client, and that was where their relationship would end. And besides, he was far too good-looking to take seriously, even for a simple lunch date.

  She shook her head. “I’m sorry, I can’t. But thank you for the invitation.” She felt Clare shooting her the evil eye, and did her best to ignore it.

  Adam gazed at her for a second longer, and she felt the intensity of awareness radiating from his stare like heat from a fire. Simultaneous urges warred within her, to draw closer and to pull away.

  Whatever this guy’s start-up business was, it must be an unqualified success. The man had focus and charisma to burn.

  “Well, some other time, maybe. Thank you, again, for the massage. It was perfect.” With a grin, he nodded at her and then Clare, and leaned over to put on his shoes.

  Which gave her another nice view of his rear end. She couldn’t help but look. Even Clare pushed up in her chair in order to peek over the counter, but only got in a second’s ogling before Adam straightened again.

  “Back to your discussion of accidental erections, then.” He winked as he pushed the door open.

  Instead of leaving, he paused and shook his head. “I’m sorry, I almost forgot. I meant to leave this in the room for you.” He felt in his pants pocket and withdrew a folded bill, which he held out to her. “That really was an incredible massage.”

  Their fingers touched as she took the bill from him, and the sensation of his heat and energy connecting with hers made her breathing go shallow.

  “Oh, and here. This is for you,” he said to Clare, reaching into his pocket again and pulling out a small, blue card. “It’s a coupon. Free membership for your first month on Mister-Match.com.”

  He held it out to her, but Clare just smiled sweetly. “Thanks, but I don’t do Internet dating.”

  Adam’s eyebrows arched. “No? Any particular reason why not?”

  “Because I don’t need to.” She tilted her head at Lisa. “But she does.”

  Hot annoyance flashed through Lisa. She narrowed her eyes at her friend, wishing she had the power to send out tiny darts through her corneas.

  “Uh—” Adam glanced back and forth between the two of them, as if sensing the sudden tension. “Well, I’ll just leave this here.” He put the coupon on the reception counter. “Maybe you can pass it along to someone who can use it.”

  “Enjoy your stay at the Keiko,” Clare called brightly after him.

  As soon as the door to Indulgence swished shut, she rounded her eyes at Lisa. “Good Lord, woman, is that what I think it is? What did you do, give him a BJ?”

  She was staring pointedly at the bill Lisa was holding. Still annoyed, Lisa glanced down at it as well—and felt her heart stutter.

  “A hundred dollars?” she said slowly, hardly able to comprehend what she held in her hand. “He tipped me a hundred dollars, on a two-hundred-dollar massage.”

  Clare whistled. “Now I know who’s treating, Monday night at Diego’s!”

  “A hundred bucks?” Lisa scowled. “Who does that? What an ass.”

  “An ass?” Clare blinked at her incredulously. “He’s not an ass, he’s filthy rich. Hell, he should’ve tipped me a Benjamin, too.” She looked thoughtful for a second. “You know, most celebrities aren’t that generous. The guy’s rich, famous and a seriously good tipper.” She clapped her hands gleefully. “Let’s go blow it on that sushi lunch!”

  “Nope. Sorry.” Lisa tucked the bill into her front pants pocket. “I ought to give this back to him—”

  “Give it back?” Clare’s expression shifted from shock to pure outrage, but Lisa just shook her head.

  “Don’t worry, I’m not completely insane. It’s going straight to the bank.”

  Clare sighed. “That’s so depressingly sensible of you. You’re always so sensible. You just got asked out by Adam Match and you said no!” She smacked a palm on the countertop. “I can’t believe you did that!”

  Lisa frowned. “I thought his name was Masters. And anyway, he’s a client—”

  “If he’d asked me out, I’d have gone in a second,” Clare gushed. “I’d suck his toes if he asked me to.
God, Adam Match! That’s just too much.”

  “Why do you keep calling him that? And what’s up with your toe obsession today?”

  “Adam Match,” Clare repeated, staring at Lisa with a you’re-too-dumb-for-words look in her big, tawny eyes. “Founder of Mister-Match.com? He does The Questionnaire to find out who’s your perfect lover?”

  “The Questionnaire?” Lisa shook her head. “I’ve never heard of it. Or him.”

  “Lisa. We were just talking about him the other night!”

  Lisa shook her head. “What are you talking about?”

  Clare stared. “You can’t be serious. Mister Match! He’s everywhere! I see, like, ten Mister-Match.com ads a day. And I just set you up on the site! Have you even checked your email this week? I sent you the login info so you could check it out if you wanted to.”

  “I haven’t had a chance to go to the library since last weekend.” Lisa blinked. “Wait, that’s the dating site you and Willow are using to pimp me out to random men?”

  “Pimping you out?” Clare repeated. “Try doing you a huge favor. Just think of us as your Fairy God-Cupids, all right? And yeah, we set you up on Mister-Match.com, and that hot guy who just asked you out to lunch—and you refused—happens to be Mister Match himself.” She shook her head. “God, I hate agreeing with Willow’s woo-woo stuff, but sometimes it’s just best not to ignore completely blatant messages from the Universe.”

  “Messages from the—” Lisa rolled her eyes. “You don’t seriously think that when some dating site guy happens to show up on my massage table, it’s some kind of divine sign that I need to sign up?”

  Clare had picked up the receiver of the phone on her desk. “Hey, you said it, not me.” She shrugged as she punched in an extension and then held the receiver to her ear. “Anyway, whatever. You should check out Access Austin later today. It comes on at four—no, five. Adam Match is doing an interview.” She grinned cheekily. “I mean, if the IRS didn’t repo your TV.”

  “Yeah, gee, I wonder why they didn’t think it was worth repossessing an ancient hand-me-down Magnavox,” Lisa said, but Clare was no longer paying attention.

  “Hello, this is Clare Fox, calling from Indulgence Spa,” she was saying into the phone.

  Lisa drummed her fingers on her desk and wondered idly who Clare was calling.

  “I just wanted to let you know,” Clare said, grinning and winking at Lisa, “my friend Lisa changed her mind.”

  “What?” Lisa sat up straight. “Who are you talking to?”

  But Clare was speaking into the phone again. “She’d love to have lunch with you today after all, if the offer still stands.”

  Lisa’s heart suddenly started pounding double-time in her chest. Clare was talking to Adam Match. “Hey, stop it right now—”

  “Perfect,” Clare said serenely. “She’ll be down in the lobby in ten.” She replaced the receiver, smiling that triumphant, cat-that-caught-the-canary smile of hers.

  “What did you just do?” Lisa demanded, her heart sinking, since, of course, it was already perfectly obvious.

  “I told you,” Clare said, “I’m your Fairy God-Cupid. It’s my job to find you dates with eligible bachelors, and it’s your job not to keep them waiting. So you’d better get your sweet ass downstairs, because you’re having lunch with Mister Match in ten minutes.”

  Chapter 6

  ____________________________________

  The sushi place on Congress was just starting to buzz with the downtown lunch crowd, but the host showed Lisa and Adam to an intimate little booth in a back corner. As Lisa walked among the tables, she tried to carry herself as if she belonged here—as if impromptu lunch dates with handsome men were the kind of thing she did all the time.

  Yet, as she glanced around at the other patrons, most of them business types in expensive-looking suits, not her normal crowd at all, it was tough to ignore the sense that she was distinctly out of her element.

  “Sake,” Adam told the waiter who came to take their drink order. “Warmed, please.” He looked at Lisa. “Is that all right with you? Do you like sake?”

  “I do,” she said, “although I don’t normally have it at lunchtime. Especially not during a workday.”

  Adam grinned at her. “I’m guess I’m technically at the start of my workday, too. We could just go with iced water, or green tea, if...” He trailed off, clearly inviting her to make the decision.

  Lisa bit her lip. She was here, with Adam Masters—no, with Adam Match—because Clare had sent her here. She’d orchestrated the whole thing. Why shouldn’t Lisa enjoy herself a little?

  “How about we go ahead with the warmed sake,” she told the waiter after a beat, “but make it a small bottle.” She glanced across the table at Adam. “We can share.”

  His answering smile arrowed right into her. She shifted in her seat. Her neck suddenly felt hot, and she ran a hand under her hair, lifting it away for a moment to create some circulation.

  Why did this feel so intimate—all of this: their lunch date, their secluded little table, and the idea of splitting a small carafe of sake with this man?

  She hadn’t had drinks with a man in forever, she realized. Not since Rodney.

  The waiter held out a long board of a menu with a printed card tied to it with ribbon, and Lisa caught the thing like a lifeline, pretending to be immediately and utterly engrossed.

  When they had placed their food orders—Lisa ordered her favorite, salmon nigiri and a bowl of miso soup, and Adam asked for the chef’s choice of sashimi, along with a few other dishes—they both sat back and simply looked at each other for a moment.

  Lisa felt herself begin to squirm in the midst of the silence. After a beat, an unexpected giggle bubbled out of her.

  “Oh!” She clapped a hand to her mouth, as if she could stuff the giggle back in. She’d always had this annoying habit of laughing in uncomfortable moments. At least, Rodney had always told her it was annoying.

  Stop thinking about Rodney, she thought fiercely. Which made her feel even more tense, which spurred another stray giggle.

  Adam’s smile widened. “What’s so funny?”

  “Nothing, nothing. I’m sorry.” But she couldn’t quite make her mouth lose the grin. “I always laugh when I shouldn’t,” she admitted. “It’s a—a thing I have. A bad habit.”

  “You laugh when you feel uncomfortable, right?”

  “I guess. I mean, I’m not exactly uncomfortable right now, but this is—” She shrugged, and tried not to burst into a cascade of nervous titters.

  “This is a funny situation,” Adam supplied. “I know. It’s a little weird.” He leaned in, his expression quizzical. “The weirdest part to me is how not weird it is. I mean, being here, with you. I hope this isn’t too cheesy to say, but I just feel this connection with you. Believe me, I don’t normally do this kind of thing.” He shook his head, looking at her as if she were an inscrutable puzzle he’d really like to solve.

  Another beat of silent stretched between them, during which Adam gazed at her with naked interest, and with humor—she could see where the corners of his eyes were crinkled up. He was smiling at her with his eyes, which was impossibly cute. She almost burst out in a fresh wave of giggles, in a fit of pure nervousness brought on by the intensity of his gaze. The man was ridiculously hot, and somehow he thought he was attracted to her? She wanted to squeal like a teenager with her girlfriends at the very thought.

  And then she realized: He wasn’t attracted to her. He’d said he felt a connection with her. That was different. Only a shade, but different all the same. He felt comfortable with her.

  “It’s the vetiver,” she blurted out.

  “The vetiver?” Adam repeated.

  She felt her face prickle with embarrassment. “Yes, in my—” She held up a wrist. “In my scented oil. It’s one of the main ingredients. It’s supposed to be grounding, and calming. That’s probably why you think you feel this connection, or whatever.”

  She fel
t ridiculous saying it aloud, but as she did, she realized it was true. That was why she wore vetiver oil in the first place: It was an aromatherapy technique, intended to put her clients at ease during a session. Adam had grabbed her wrist during the massage. Now, he was claiming he didn’t normally treat strange women to lunch, while doing just that. Clearly, he was sensitive to the essential oil’s effects. Probably in combination with the massage itself, the scent had relaxed him and opened him up to the point that his inhibitions had broken down.

  “You think your perfume made me take you out to lunch?” Now Adam was grinning at her with open delight.

  “Well—” It sounded silly, when he put it that way. “Not exactly, but... Yeah, maybe.” She shook her head, feeling flustered.

  Then she noticed Adam was looking over her shoulder, toward the front of the restaurant, and his expression had gone wary.

  “Is everything okay?” Had she said something wrong?

  “Everything’s fine,” Adam said, but his tone had an edge to it. “I just thought they’d—” He broke off and shook his head. “Sorry. It’s nothing. Everything is good. Better than good.” He smiled at her once again, and Lisa felt as if the sun had broken through the clouds.

  Talk about sensitive and susceptible. She really needed to watch herself with this man.

  The momentary distraction of the waiter bringing a small ceramic bottle and two matching cups to the table was a relief.

  “Your sake,” he said, setting the items down with a flourish. He poured a small amount of clear liquid into each cup.

  “Thank you,” Adam and Lisa said to the waiter, at the same time.

  Lisa glanced at Adam and found him watching her, too.

  So he was the type who thanked waiters. It was a small thing, really, but she was glad. In her experience, too many people, and especially people with money, ignored others whom they considered underlings. Adam didn’t seem to be like that. It was a point to his credit.

  Rodney hadn’t ever had money, yet he’d always acted as if waiters, along with cab drivers and grocery store cashiers, were somehow inferior—