Unmatchable

by Sky Corgan

  Oh well, at least it will help to kill time before my next appointment.

  I stand and flatten the wrinkles out of the front of my blouse and pencil skirt before heading to the break room. There are plenty of empty seats, so I take one toward the back and wait for the meeting to begin. Freddie stands at the front of the room looking nervous. One of the corners of his shirt is untucked from his pants, and his dark hair is disheveled, a sign that he's been running his hands through it. His eyes dart around, but they don't linger on any one person for too long.

  Once everyone is seated, he takes a deep breath. “I'm sorry to call all of you in here on such short notice, but I have an announcement to make. This morning, I sold Full Hearts Matchmaking Service to another company.”

  Gasps erupt from the room. My mouth falls open as I'm blindsided with the rest of my co-workers.

  Freddie holds his hands up. “Now I know what you're all thinking. There are going to likely be a lot of changes in the coming weeks. Some of you may be promoted. Some of your positions may be phased out.

  "Friday will be my last day with the company. On Monday, a new management team will be coming in to take over. I want you to treat them with the utmost respect.

  “I want to let all of you know that I've greatly enjoyed my last five years working with you guys. It has been an adventure building this company from the ground up, and I have every confidence that Full Hearts Matchmaking Service will continue to be successful under The Larsen Corporation.”

  The Larsen Corporation.

  My brain instantly shifts back to Alfred Barnes' Facebook page. It said that he was the CEO of the Larsen Corporation. That's probably not a coincidence. The pit in my stomach deepens.

  “Now if anyone has questions, I will answer them to the best of my ability.” Freddie takes a more casual stance as if getting off his chest that he sold the company has made him thirty pounds lighter.

  I raise my hand, but one of my co-workers speaks out of turn. “Why didn't you tell us about this sooner?”

  “Because I wasn't sure it was going to happen. The transaction took place this morning. I figured it was better to wait until I knew for sure rather than to create a panic by feeding you guys false information.”

  “But you knew you were going to sell. You just didn't know when.”

  “That's true.” He nods. “I had wanted to sell for a while. I just hadn't received an acceptable offer until now.”

  “What about our salaries? Will they remain the same?” another of my co-workers asks.

  “I have been informed that your salaries will be locked for the next month, which means they won't change until that period if over. After that, it's out of my hands. The new management team will look over employee data and decide whether they need to make changes or keep things the same.

  “I apologize, but that's all I'll be able to answer for now. On Friday, we'll have another meeting in the afternoon, so save all of your questions until then.” Freddie bows out of the room as if it's on fire, leaving everyone dumbstruck.

  I simply sit there, trying to put the pieces together. My mind is reeling with what ifs. In the span of just a few minutes, my entire world has been turned upside down, and I'm not entirely sure what to do about it.

  Knowing that I won't find answers sitting in a room full of people who are also trying to figure things out, I return to my office. Instead of messing with the slow internet on my phone, I use my desktop to do a Google search on The Larsen Corporation. The website looks professional enough. There's a gray banner with the company's logo. Beneath that are some article excerpts about recent acquisitions and other news. I see nothing about Full Hearts Matchmaking Service on there, though.

  I click through to the page with businesses that the corporation currently owns. It has an impressive list. Several salons, massage parlors, restaurants, storage centers, a jewelry store, and even a movie theater. It's a curious mix. No Full Hearts Matchmaking Service though. It looks like they haven't had time to update their website yet.

  Next, I click to the page with the leadership team. Front and center is an image of Alfred Barnes. Except the name Alfred Barnes isn't under the picture. The name under the picture is Colton Larsen.

  There are fourteen people on his management team and eleven people on his board of directors. It's a damn big corporation.

  I now know that Alfred Barnes' real name is Colton Larsen. That the man who was sitting across from me days ago wasn't a client at all. The question is, is that really who I've been talking to on the dating site, or did BoxPup just steal Colton's pictures from the internet.

  I'm forced to put my research aside when my last client of the day walks in.

  The woman who plants her pudgy ass in front of me is another unmatchable. Most of her dates have described her as a gold digger and freebie seeker. The honest ones, at least. There are a lot of people who choose not to delve into specifics about why their date went badly. The few transparent members start to lay out a pattern of the unmatchable's unsavory behavior, though. Enough of which I can use to make the determination that our services are no longer beneficial for them.

  The appointment takes much longer than I would have liked. The woman makes excuses, blames the bad dates on her matches, says that it's their responsibility to pay for everything. She calls one guy rude and inconsiderate for not wanting to wait for her to get a refill on popcorn on their way out of the theater. The man noted that the refill wasn't free and that the woman argued with the concession attendant for a good fifteen minutes over it, causing a scene until a manager was finally called over and they gave her the refill just to get rid of her. He said he'd never been so embarrassed on a date in all of his life, and I honestly can't blame him.

  Then the woman goes on to say that we should give her several free months of service for not being able to match her with someone compatible. When she demands to speak to my manager, I gladly hand her over to Freddie, who shoots her back to me like a boomerang. Things should have ended then, but she continued to argue with me for another thirty minutes. Unfortunately, I can't call security on her unless I feel threatened or she makes a sexual advance on me, neither of which happened. So I'm stuck listening to her whiny demands until she finally runs out of steam and decides to leave on her own...nearly half an hour after my shift ends.

  I'm never happier than when I can stamp banned on her file and toss it into my basket to be placed in the Inactive Clients/Restricted cabinet. No one should have to deal with someone like that.

  I groan as I look at the clock, realizing that I have just enough time to go home and get ready for my date for the night before I have to head back out. I had really hoped I could delve into the mystery of BoxPup and Colton Larsen some more, but it will have to wait.

  I speed home and make an attempt to look decent. Since this is another guy from the internet and I no longer trust guys from the internet, I'm damn sure not going to overdress this time. I throw on a pair of black skinny jeans and a dark green tank top, pairing the outfit with black strappy sandals. Then I pull my hair into a high ponytail and paint on a light layer of nude makeup.

  Richard, the guy I'm meeting, is fifteen years my senior and the vice principal of a high school. He's not really my type, but at least he has a stable career and seems to have a good head on his shoulders.

  He picks me up at six o'clock, and it feels like the opposite of my date with Stephen. This time, I'm the one who is underdressed, but it's too late to think about that now. His dark hair is slicked to the side. He's wearing a pink pinstripe shirt tucked into a pair of gray slacks. There's a matching gray tie with a pink diamond pattern around his neck. His cologne hits me like a slap as soon as I open the door to him. It's not a repulsive scent, but I'm definitely not fond of it. It makes him smell old, for lack of a better description. A mixture of aftershave and something I'm pretty sure my grandfather used to wear. His smile is charming and brilliant though.

  “Well, don't you look gorgeous.” He t
akes me all in.

  “Thank you.”

  “I was going to pick a restaurant for us tonight, but I figured that I'd let you decide for our first date. I'm interested to see what you'd pick.”

  For our first date, huh? Cocky much? He's already thinking about a second date. I'm not even sure I like him enough for a second date yet.

  I grumble inwardly, not liking being put on the spot. He could have told me earlier that he wanted me to pick something.

  I shift my weight, trying to figure out what I'm in the mood for. To be honest, ever since I found out my job might be in danger, my appetite has been nonexistent. The only reason I didn't cancel the date was because my therapist would gritch at me for it. I'm supposed to be going out on dates with anyone I feel I might be somewhat compatible with.

  Frustrated and not in the mood to put any more thought into it, I blurt out the first thing that comes to mind. “Let's go to Olive Garden.”

  ***

  At the restaurant, Richard is pleasant enough, but I can't help being bored as he tells me stories of his world travels. He talks about these places like he expects me to be well versed in geography and different cultures. I'm not. In fact, I've never even been outside of the United States.

  About halfway through the meal, I take a bathroom break. I pull my phone from my purse as I sit on the toilet and bring up the dating app, surprised to find a message from Colton. Even more surprised that it's not something perverted or snarky.

  BoxPup: How was your day?

  BlazeGenie: Interesting. How was yours? Anything big happen today?

  I hint at the takeover of Full Hearts Matchmaking Service.

  BoxPup: The only thing big happening today was in my pants. What was interesting about your day?

  BlazeGenie: Did you shit on yourself? Because I doubt you're referring to your dick. I'm sure you had to take a lot of steroids to get a body like that. You know what happens when you take steroids.

  BoxPup: Your balls shrink. Luckily for you, I'm all natural.

  I let out a short laugh, unable to hide my amusement.

  BlazeGenie: Why would that be lucky for me?

  BoxPup: If I told you you had a beautiful body, would you hold it against me?

  BlazeGenie: Starting with the cheesy lines now, I see.

  BoxPup: I'll do what I have to do to get closer to you, baby.

  BlazeGenie: I'm not your baby.

  BoxPup: Are you someone else's?

  BlazeGenie: I'm on a date right now.

  BoxPup: Apparently, it's not a good date.

  BlazeGenie: What makes you say that?

  BoxPup: Because you're texting me.

  BlazeGenie: I'm texting you because I'm in the bathroom and have nothing better to do.

  BoxPup: Did you shit on yourself, because you've been in the bathroom for a while?

  I can envision a smug grin spread across Colton Larsen's handsome face from successfully throwing my words back at me. Am I even talking to Colton Larsen? The thought that this is just a faceless stranger bothers me. Would I really want it to be Colton? That would be a little creepy. It would mean that he was, in fact, stalking me. I'm not sure if I find that flattering or disturbing.

  BlazeGenie: Touche. And on that note, I have to get back to my date.

  I close the app, but almost immediately it dings with a response, and I can't resist the urge to open it again and see what he said. To be honest, this is far more amusing than sitting across from Richard listening to his vacation stories.

  BoxPup: Wouldn't you rather tell me what was so interesting about your day?

  BlazeGenie: Why do you care?

  BoxPup: Because I'm interested in you. I want to know more about you.

  Isn't that some bullshit. He knows everything already. Still, I decide to be honest. Oddly, thinking that he is Colton Larsen makes it easier to voice my concerns.

  BlazeGenie: Actually, it was kind of a shitty day. I just found out that someone bought out the company I work for. I've been working there for three years—the vast majority of my adult life. I'm worried that when new management comes in on Monday, my position might be at stake.

  BoxPup: Why would your position be at stake?

  BlazeGenie: The guy who is buying the company came in and did an undercover internal investigation. I didn't give him the best customer service. I was just doing my job, though.

  BoxPup: If you were doing your job, then what are you worried about?

  BlazeGenie: My job is kind of the opposite of my job title.

  BoxPup: That doesn't make any sense. What do you do for a living?

  BlazeGenie: I'm the client retainment associate for a matchmaking service.

  BoxPup: So your job is to...what?

  BlazeGenie: My job is to get rid of delinquent clients so that no one else has to deal with them. It's a hard job, but someone has to do it. What do you do for a living?

  BoxPup: I'm a bodybuilder. Can't you tell? ;-)

  I roll my eyes but wonder if I've got everything all wrong. This guy sounds completely clueless about my predicament. Maybe he did steal Colton Larsen's photos off of the internet and used them to make a profile.

  I take a few minutes to pull up Google and do several image searches. The first is for hot shirtless men, the next is for shirtless men in Houston. I try anything that I think will bring up pictures of Colton, but all I get are random guys that I've never seen before.

  With a sigh, I decide to cut to the chase.

  BlazeGenie: Show me your face.

  BoxPup: Why? We've already established that I'm hideous.

  BlazeGenie: I don't care. I want to see who I'm talking to.

  BoxPup: Show me your tits.

  My mouth falls open at his bold request.

  BlazeGenie: No! What in the hell is wrong with you?

  BoxPup: I thought we were playing I'll Show You Mine, You Show Me Yours.

  BlazeGenie: I want to see your face, not your dick.

  BoxPup: Pity. I have a whole folder of dick pics with your name on them.

  BlazeGenie: You can keep your inchworm to yourself. I'm going back to my date.

  With a scowl, I turn my phone off and shove it back into my purse. Lord knows that if it beeps again, I'll want to look at it. For as much of a jerk as this guy is, I'm actually beginning to enjoy our crude exchanges.

  I wipe myself, though I've pretty much dripped dry. Then I wash my hands and return to the table. Richard makes a joke about how he thought I had flushed myself down the toilet and that he was just about to come to my rescue. The joke was half-expected considering how long it took me.

  The remainder of the date is pleasantly dull. While Richard continues to regale me with tales of his adventures, I think about my conversation with BoxPup. He was somewhat normal this time. I can't help but wonder if he actually cares. I'm mostly sure that he doesn't. This is all probably just some sick, twisted game to him. I'm interested enough to keep playing, though.

  CHAPTER FOUR

  COLTON

  The flash of jealousy that raced through me when I found out that Ember was on a date was totally unexpected. Almost the entire time that we've been talking, she's been a bitch to me. I goaded her, though. I can't forget that. And to be honest, it's nice to see someone stand their ground for once. Most people wouldn't dare speak to me the way she has. She probably wouldn't dare speak to me like that if she knew I hold her job in my hands.

  She doesn't know. To her, I'm just some random stranger. Some internet creep.

  The thought of destroying her world makes me feel unpleasant. Perhaps I can use my BoxPup account to comfort her while she looks for another job. That would mean allowing myself to get close to her. I'm not so sure that's a good idea. If she found out who I am, it could cause problems. The smartest thing to do would be to delete my dating profile and be done with it. But I'm just so addicted to talking to her. She keeps me on my toes wondering what amusing venom she's going to spew at me next. I'm really surprised she's ev
en still talking to me.

  All throughout the morning, thoughts of Ember aren't far from my mind. I find myself checking the dating app way more frequently than I should. She hasn't responded, but I suppose I shouldn't have expected her to. I never messaged her back after she told me that she was going back to her date.

  By lunch time, the urge to speak to her again is overwhelming. I sit in my office and unwrap the turkey sandwich that I had my secretary bring me for lunch before I fire up the dating app and tap out a quick message. Ember isn't currently online, but I figure she'll get the message eventually.

  BoxPup: So how was the date last night?

  I set down my phone and take a bite of the sandwich. Before I even have time to swallow it, there's a notification that someone has messaged me on the dating app. I open it back up and grin.

  BlazeGenie: It was boring, if I'm being honest.

  BoxPup: That's because you weren't on a date with me.

  BlazeGenie: What on God's green earth makes you think I'd want to go on a date with you?

  BoxPup: You're still talking to me, aren't you? Besides, I promise you'd have a great time.

  BlazeGenie: I don't even know your name.

  I give pause, taking a few minutes to enjoy my lunch while I think of a response. I could lie to her, but what harm is there in sharing my real name. It's not like she'll ever make the connection.

  BoxPup: It's Colton. What's yours?

  BlazeGenie: Amanda.

  Liar.

  BoxPup: You don't look like an Amanda.

  BlazeGenie: What do I look like to you?

  BoxPup: A beautiful girl that I'd like to kiss.

  BlazeGenie: Is that so?

  BoxPup: It is so.

  BlazeGenie: I didn't think I was your type.