“The first time this guy messaged me, he complimented my eyes. I should have known that was too good to be true. The bad ones are easy to tell. But if someone shows up and it sounds like he stepped out of a romantic comedy? That should be the biggest warning sign of all.”

—Rock Bottom Caroline

The Heart Makers office is like a dream out of a magazine. Walls of windows combined with bright lights make for a happy atmosphere as soon as you walk in the door. Exactly the kind of vibe you want for customers coming in for a matchmaking service.

I’m proud of how well I’ve managed to keep my panic in check, but now that I’m in the office, I’m shaking just a little. But I’m on time. I think that’s probably the most important thing. I walk up to the receptionist—who looks like she’s from central casting with her neat up-do and earpiece—and wait for her to acknowledge me.

She gives me a thousand-watt smile. “Welcome to Heart Makers. Can I help you?”

“Yes,” I say, clearing my throat. “I have a meeting with Chance Montgomery. I think he’s expecting me?”

A few keystrokes later. “You’re Caroline?”

“That’s me.”

“Great,” she says. “Follow me.”

I do, past a fabulous view of downtown Manhattan and an open-plan workspace. I also see little alcoves where one or two people are working, and I wonder if that’s where they interview you when you come in to use their service.

I’m so busy looking at my surroundings that I almost bump into the receptionist when she stops short in front of an impressive looking door.

“Have a seat,” she says, pointing to the couch outside the door. “Marcy will let you know when he’s ready for you.”

I sit. And wait. I see Marcy—who I’m assuming is Chance’s assistant—subtly look me up and down. Thank God I’m wearing Alice’s clothes because if I were wearing mine, I know I wouldn’t have made a good impression. I’m trying not to fidget, but I can’t help but tap my toes. I have no idea what kind of job offer to expect. I mean, it’s definitely a legit company, but who just emails someone a job offer out of the blue? What if it’s something weird?

“You can go on in,” Marcy says, with a sickly sweet smile that lets me know she’s not my biggest fan. Is that because she knows I’m walking into a trap? Get it together, girl! You can do this.

I straighten my skirt and push open the door to his office, and holy mother of God, there’s a lot to take in. First, the office is huge, and the window behind the desk has a picture perfect view of lower Manhattan and the New York Harbor. And lastly—because there’s nothing else I could possibly look at now—Chance Montgomery is standing behind his desk waiting for me.

It’s almost like I’m far away from myself as I freeze, and my mouth drops open. Because Chance Montgomery is hot. Hotter than the sun hot. So hot I feel like I should look down to see if my clothes have burned off hot. But I can’t move because I’m frozen in place by that same hotness. Holy. Shit.

“Hello,” he says.

I blink, and I feel like the world has started turning again. “Hi.” I manage to take the necessary steps forward to shake his hand. “I’m Caroline.” The nervous laugh that escapes my lips sounds hysterical even to me.

The only reaction from him is a small amused smile. “It’s good to meet you, Caroline. Please, take a seat.”

I step back and run into the chair, because it’s closer than I thought, and I tumble into it, my purse landing on the ground with a thud. I’m kind of laying sideways in it. Chance is looking at me with that same amused smile, and I feel the blood run to my cheeks. I manage to reseat myself in a more normal fashion. “I’m usually more graceful.”

He smiles. “Graceful can be overrated. Especially when it’s a replacement for charm.”

I blush again.

“I appreciate you coming in so quickly,” he says, changing topic. “I’m sure that you’ve either heard of us or googled us when I emailed you this morning, but let me tell you a little bit about the company.”

“Sure.”

“Heart Makers is a pretty new company, just over two years old. We’re focused on creating lasting romantic partnerships for people in their twenties and thirties. We started the company as a way to fight back against the hook-up culture and the way most dating sites are simply becoming unusable. So here, we strive to make lasting connections using the typical things like personality and temperament, but also expectations, timing, industry, and phase of life.”

“That sounds really great,” I say. Because it does. Given my experience, I’d do almost anything not to have one more guy message me that I have nice tits.

“We’ve been successful so far, and I think it’s only going to get better. But because of the personalized nature of our service, we’re expensive. I don’t want our expertise to be limited to the people who can afford our matchmaking services, and that’s where you come in.”

Shock rolls through me. “Really? I don’t know anything about matchmaking.”

Chance laughs. “I don’t know if I’d agree with that. I’ve seen your blog, and I think you know plenty about the perils of bad dating. Matchmaking is just one step further.”

He’s read my blog. Oh my God. Oh. My. God.

“I’d like you to come on and write articles for our website about dating, matchmaking, romantic advice. We’ll give you some things to write about, but you’d also have some creative room. From what I’ve seen of your writing, your voice and sense of humor are a perfect match for what we’re looking for. If you’re interested, that is.”

“I am, of course. But…you don’t know anything about me. You’re just willing to have my writing up on your site?”

“I read a good deal of your blog, and I’ve shared the relevant posts with my COO and CFO. They all agree that you’re perfect.”

There aren’t any words I can say. Can it really be that easy?

He laughs again. “Tell you what. Why don’t you stay here till the end of business? I’ll show you where you’d be working, and you can see what working on an article would be like. Then you can let me know.”

“Okay.” The word is out of my mouth before I’m even realizing that I’m saying it. How in the world would I ever be able to say no to this?

He stands and comes around the desk until he’s standing right in front of me. I have to lean back to look at him and damn if this isn’t the best view I’ve had in my life for a long, long time. Chance reaches out a hand to me, and I take it, letting him lift me to my feet like I weigh nothing.

“Come with me, I’ll show you your office.”

He walks out of the room and all I can do is gape after him.