Swipe Left for Love

by Lynn Stevens

  Macie pulled her supplies from the small closet near the bathroom. She threw down a drop cloth and set up her easel. Grabbing her brushes, she stood in front of her last blank 40x40 canvas in nothing but her birthday suit. Black and white, the colors blended in her mind. She filled her palette with both. Her brushed dug into the black. She didn’t think about what she was painting. She let her anger, disappointment, heartache, and fear guide her. She swayed as the bristles swept across the canvas, black paint, white paint, flowing and smothering each other. An hour later, her arm ached, and the brush slipped from her hand, landing the clear plastic at her feet. The black and white swirled into a variety of grays, but still kept their own color. It was an abyss, circling wide then tightening in the center. She painted the rabbit hole she fell down. Everything in life always seemed so black and white to her, but she finally saw the grays.

  She needed to climb out and face the music. It didn’t matter that Guy was Zac or that Zac was Guy. What mattered was he got her. He understood the real Macie Regan. The one she didn’t let many people see.

  Grabbing her tablet off the table, she settled into her chair, paint and all. She didn’t have a clue how to do this. How to tell Zac she had been there. That she was right in front of him the entire time. But she also knew she couldn’t. She had to ... she had to show him who she really was and not just Macie the anonymous person on the other side of the screen. She didn’t want to give up the connection they had online, either.

  Once the app opened, she went to their message stream and began to type.

  I am so sorry about tonight. Work called me in.

  She backspaced over all of it and started again.

  Please forgive me. I know we agreed to meet tonight and I know how bad this looks that I wasn’t there. I had every intention to be there, but something came up and it was unavoidable. If you don’t, I understand. This isn’t how I wanted our first meeting to go. I imagined a night of fantastic conversation face to face. I enjoy our chats. It should come as no surprise to you, but I constantly check my app to see if you’ve responded.

  Or maybe it does in light of tonight. I hope not. I really do want to meet you, but my life is out of control at the moment. Just graduating from college, starting a very demanding job, living on my own for the first time. I’m overwhelmed. And the one thing I want to do, I keep screwing up. Story of my life right now. Screwing everything up.

  Again, I understand if you don’t want to talk to me again

  She almost signed her name. Again. That would’ve been more of a disaster. To make things worse, her phone went off and it was a message from Lauren. Macie ignored it. She couldn’t even tell her best friend that Guy was Zac. She had to deal with this on her own and she had to make things right with the Zac she’d butted heads with, so she could tell him the truth.

  Maybe she wouldn’t have to. Maybe she could get Zac to see the real her and forget the online her. Then she’d never have to tell him that she was the person he’d chatted with on Blind Friends. He’d never have to know. Smiling at her scheme, Macie put her tablet down and headed into the shower.

  This plan could work. It would be perfect. And he’d never have to know the truth.

  ZAC THREW HIMSELF INTO work the next day. He met with new investors, ones he’d recruited from Lafayette. Most of his new clientele didn’t have much to invest but he’d encouraged them to meet with him anyway. It was never to early to build a nest egg and plan for retirement. He also managed to get a few professors to move their portfolios to him. The work kept his mind off his mystery girl until the office quieted down in the late afternoon and she snuck into his thoughts.

  Had she taken one look at him and bolted? Had she stood outside and laughed because she’d never intended meeting him to begin with? Had he scared her off somehow? He shook his head and focus on emails, stock options, news, anything to stop thinking about her.

  It was getting close to five when his phone dinged a text. He glanced at the name. Chomper. He really needed to change that before Macie found out. But how would she ever know? It wasn’t like he was going to hand her his phone and let her snoop through the contact list. And it wasn’t like she’d ever see that when they were around each other. Nah, he’d keep it. If no other reason than the simple fact that it would upset her.

  I’m supposed to be off work by five on Saturday, but probably won’t get out of here until six. Come over after seven. Followed by her address and a brief set of directions.

  Zac pressed one letter, K, but before he could hit send, Macie sent another.

  I know the idea of talking to me disgusts you, but I’d also like to discuss investing. Maybe you can point me to someone who wouldn’t mind working with me.

  He stared at the screen. That didn’t compute. He’d tried to have civil conversations with Macie about investing after college, but she was adamant her loans would make that impossible. It didn’t make any sense. And did she really think he’d trust someone else with her money? Sparks Investments was about the personal, not the bottom line. His father had taught him that long ago. He’d trust his dad to do right by Macie, but not many others. Despite years of antagonism, he knew she wouldn’t invest in anything that went against her morals. He knew how she’d want to invest and what stocks she’d be most interested in. Anybody else would have to learn the quirks of Macie, of which there were many.

  He hit send, still using the one letter response. His eye darted to the Blind Friends app. He hadn’t checked it. The minute he got home the night before, he’d put his phone in the kitchen as far away from him as he could. He spent the rest of his night catching up on movies he’d queued on Netflix before falling asleep on the couch. It wasn’t ideal, but it worked in the avoidance column. Thankfully, his stepmother had a flare for decorating and had picked out a nice couch for his apartment.

  The app stared back at him. He shook his head and put his phone back onto his desk. It would have to wait until he was at home with a stiff drink. Disappointment was best accompanied by whiskey, straight.

  “Mr. Sparks?” a voice called from the door to his small office. Zac glanced up from his computer to see his father’s secretary. “Mr. Sparks would like to see you before you leave.”

  “Maureen, you’ve known me most of my life.” Zac logged off his computer and stood. “It’s Zac. Mr. Sparks is my father.”

  “You can be Zac when you’re not here.” Maureen smiled. Her warm eyes reminded him of his mother. She was old enough to be his grandmother. Maureen had started working for his father when Sparks Investments opened. She was already in her mid-forties then. “When you’re here, you’ll be Mr. Sparks and you will like it.”

  “Yes, ma’am.” Zac knew better than to argue with her. He’d made that mistake before and wasn’t about to do so again. “Do you know what the elder Mr. Sparks wants?” She raised her eyebrows. “Just so I’m prepared.”

  “I believe he’s meeting with several new staff members.” Maureen didn’t meet Zac’s gaze as she led him down the hall. “Just a quick check in to see how it’s going for everyone.”

  “Maureen,” Zac said, drawing out her name. He leaned on her desk. “You hear everything around here. Is there something I should know?”

  She smirked and continued typing. “I can assure you that if I heard anything, your father would know.”

  Zac nodded and straightened up. He slapped Maureen’s desk a couple of times before turning toward the elevators.

  His father’s space was decked out in dark wood with a maroon couch that looked out the floor to ceiling windows of the corner office. It wasn’t exactly his dad’s style, but he’d let Amanda decorate the office. It was a contrast of light and dark, like the world of finance according to Amanda. The only thing his father refused to part with was the desk. Zac’s mother had bought the antique as a present when he opened Sparks Investments. Amanda had it refinished, but she never asked him to replace it. Zac admired his stepmother for that.

  Three of the new h
ires stood in front of the desk as Zac stepped into the office. His father leaned around the group and waved Zac forward. Zac wasn’t comfortable discussing business in front of the newbies. He glanced at his competition. They weren’t technically competition, but Zac thought of them that way. If they brought in more clients, and by default more money, then he looked bad. In fact, he looked like a man riding his father’s coattails. That was the last thing he wanted. Once that stigma set in, it never went away. Tyler was smart, but he had a one track mind. Zac didn’t know Michael. Unlike Zac and Tyler, Michael didn’t go to Lafayette.

  “Glad you could join us, Zac,” his father began from his throne behind the desk. “While it’s only been a few weeks, I wanted to compliment you all on a job well done. You’ve started off well, but there’s always room for improvement. Michael, you’ve too few investors. Work on that, please. Tyler, you’ve done well, but you should diversify more. It’s all about balance. And Zac, you’ve brought in quite a few new clients, but nobody with any substantial funds. Go for some bigger fish. Now, I’m quite happy with your work and we’ll meet again next month to see where you stand. Good evening, gentlemen.”

  The other two men shuffled out of the room, but Zac stayed behind. He waited for the door to click shut behind him.

  “Bigger fish? My father always taught me that to build clientele meant to build from the ground up.” Zac grinned, but he remained standing.

  “Yeah, well, your father’s a wise man.” He motioned Zac into an empty chair. “But you do need to do more networking outside of the university and bring in more money. That’s the bottom line here, son. It’s all about the cold, hard cash.”

  “The board still wants to go public?” Zac knew the situation hadn’t been settled, but not much had been said since it was first brought up.

  “It’s worse than that.” His father leaned back in his chair and stared out the window. “They’re trying to oust me.”

  “What?” Zac sat up faster than an arrow hits its target. “They can’t do that. You built this company. How can they try to take it away from you?”

  “They can. You and I both know the long-term goal is to sell to one of the big financial institutes.” He shook his head and turned back toward Zac. “They’re using my stint in the hospital as an excuse to say I’m unfit. Jackasses were the ones to put me in the hospital in the first place. Not that they care about that. Can I count on you?”

  “Of course. What’re you going to do?” Panic welled inside Zac’s chest. This business was his father’s, plain and simple. He’d do whatever it took to keep it that way.

  “Well, we’re going to war, son.” His father stared him dead in the eye. “And you’re my general. Rumors can be the deadliest. So make some happen. Make sure people know my health is fantastic. And make sure people remember why they are where they are. I made this place. It will either survive with me or die without me.”

  Zac nodded. This was exactly what they’d discussed before, but now was the time to enact it. “We’ve got this, Dad.”

  His father nodded and waved him out the door. Zac stood, leaving the office without another word. The situation was less than ideal and getting worse. He didn’t want to play the role of corporate spy, but this was his father. This was his father’s company. He’d sacrificed so much to build it. Zac sat back at his desk to gather his thoughts. Most of the office had left for the day. He glanced at his watch. It was almost five-thirty. Not that he had anywhere to be.

  But he did. He needed to network. He picked up his phone and called Maureen. “Where does everyone go after work?”

  “Besides home? Most of the younger employees head over to McKennon’s for happy hour.”

  “Thanks, Maureen. You’re the best.” Zac hung up and grabbed his suit jacket off the back of his door. He’d head over to the bar, make nice, and show them he was their equal. His father had already started it by putting him in the same category as everyone else. He just needed to play that up.

  CHAPTER THIRTEEN

  He hadn’t responded. She sent the message on Tuesday and nothing. By Thursday, Macie had stopped refreshing the app. The only bright spot in her week was the check from MatchInHeaven, LLC for the graphics on Blind Friends. There hadn’t been any negotiations. They said here’s the offer. She said okay. They also asked if she was available for freelance work. Again, she said okay. So far, no calls, but she had a little bit of hope. Her student loans would be coming due soon enough and every bit of cash she could bring in would help.

  “Macie!” Nancy shouted as Macie hurried past the office. “Get in here.”

  Damn it. Macie had done a decent job at avoiding her boss in person. Emails and phone calls were still every two minutes. Macie stepped into Nancy’s abnormally messy office. It looked like a hurricane rammed the room but left the rest of the station untouched. “What’s up?”

  “Alex.” One word, that was all she needed to say for Macie to sink into a chair and wait for the rest of the shoe to drop. “He volunteered to host a trivia night for St. Raphael’s. It’s free promo for the station so make him look like the Hollywood movie star he thinks he is. Here.” Nancy shoved the folder toward her. “There’s a stack of emails in your inbox with more, but get that shit there done first and shoot it back to me.”

  “Will do, boss.” Easy enough and no shoe dropping at all. Macie stood and walked to the door when the shoe found her back.

  “How’re your photography skills?” Nancy asked.

  Macie closed her eyes for a moment before turning around. She’d almost made it to freedom. “Nonexistent.”

  “Grab a camera from Joe. And get existent.” Nancy grimaced and massaged her temple. “He wants you to take photos of him for the social media pages. And a little video.”

  “Hire a cameraman. I’m not qualified to do any of that.” Anger surged in Macie’s gut as Nancy shook her head. “And I get a raise for all this extra work, right?”

  “You get to keep your job. Isn’t that enough?”

  Macie walked over to Nancy’s desk and dropped the folder on her calendar. “Nope.”

  She needed the job, more than Nancy realized, but she needed her dignity too. She’d been there almost a month, and until Alex decided she was to be his own personal bitch, she’d enjoyed it. But the minute Nancy bowed to Alex, Macie’s life had been hell.

  “You’re a good designer,” Nancy said. Each word was clipped with threat. “I’d hate to lose you over this.”

  It was a powerplay. One Macie would’ve made herself if she’d been in Nancy’s position. But she had one last Hail Mary in her bag. “Found a replacement for Ian yet?”

  Nancy jolted back as if someone had slapped her. “I’ve got a couple of people I’d like to hire, but there’s only one spot, for now.”

  Macie smiled. If Nancy had anybody she wanted to hire, she would’ve pulled the trigger. A quick chat with Mark would confirm that. “Great. Just let me know when to clean out my desk.”

  The women stared each other down, but Macie knew she’d won. This time. There wouldn’t be a next time. Taking this job had been a desperation move and there were other options out there. Macie promised herself then and there she’d get her resume back into circulation, even if it hadn’t been that long and she’d applied to every design firm in the city. There was always more freelance work. And maybe she’d start selling her designs online.

  “The trivia night is Saturday.” Nancy dropped her gaze back to the scattered papers on her desk. “Be there by six-thirty.”

  “Oh, no can do, boss.” Macie crossed her arms. “I’m not working ten hours then spending my free time with Alex this Saturday. I’ve got other plans that I cannot cancel.”

  “Fine. I’ll get someone else.” Nancy glanced up at her through her eyelashes. “This time. Next time you won’t have an option.”

  Macie kept her mouth shut and simply nodded before stepping out of the office.

  Wanna bet? she thought as she strolled toward her own c
ubicle closet and wondered how she was going to get out of this mess.

  HAPPY HOUR WASN’T SO happy, but that was normally the case. Zac stood at the edge of the crowd, sipping a generic beer and eavesdropping the best he could. It wasn’t easy. Most of his co-workers knew he was a Sparks. They were careful to keep their traps shut around him. He’d hoped the more booze the looser the lips, but they trickled out of the bar still too sober to talk. Except for one.

  Tabitha Walton had been with Sparks Investments since January as the receptionist. She was gorgeous—long legs, tan skin, and flowing brown hair. Her doe eyes could entice any man into buying her a drink. Zac noticed she hadn’t paid all night. She smiled at him and crossed her bare legs. Her skirt rode up to dangerous levels, and Zac knew a sign when he saw one. Tabitha didn’t want to go home alone.

  Zac signaled to the bartender for two more drinks even though he hadn’t finished the one he’d been nursing for two hours. He slid onto the barstool next to her. “Hey, Tabby. How’s it going?”

  Tabitha shrugged and ran her finger around the rim of her wine glass. “Things are looking up.”

  Zac raised his eyebrows and downed the rest of his beer as the bartender set down another.

  “So, Zac Sparks, prodigal son, heir apparent to the Sparks throne. Why are you here?” She rested her elbow against the bar and leaned her head on her fist. “Or do you like causing a stir?”

  “I have no idea what you’re talking about.” Zac grinned, glancing down at her abundant cleavage. Maybe he could forget his mystery girl for one night.

  “Oh, yes you do.” Tabitha sipped her pink frou-frou drink. “Either you’re here to get laid or you’re here to make everyone else uncomfortable. I’m willing to bet it’s the later, but I’m not opposed to the first.”

  “Maybe I just wanted to get to know my co-workers.” He sipped his drink and kept his gaze on Tabitha.

  “I’m not sure that’s a smart move. Most of them feel threatened by you.” Tabitha downed her drink and waved to the bartender for another. “You’ve got an advantage, you know.”