The Matchmaker's Playbook
Blake exhaled slowly. “But . . . you’re a . . .”
“Whore?”
She nodded.
“I enjoy women.” I shrugged. “And I help women, all types of women, find their perfect match. Is that so wrong?”
“But—”
“We have a lot of work to do.” I tilted my head. “Do you know what Victoria’s Secret is?”
“You’re an ass.”
“Duh, I’m a guy. But, I’m also your new love coach. I don’t charge two hundred bucks a day to be your friend.” I nodded, and my body buzzed with excitement over the challenge—she’d be one, that was for sure. “I’ll do it. That is, if you’re still interested in this David.”
She looked hesitant. Her body language was closed-off completely, so I knew she’d be a tough one to crack. Especially since I could tell she wasn’t my biggest fan. Then again, she didn’t need to be. Maybe I needed to remind her of that.
“Look.” I licked my lips and held out my hand. She took it, thankfully. “We have a ninety-nine percent success rate. Follow the rules, follow my advice and guidance, and you’ll be popping out little Davids in no time.”
“Kids?” she choked.
“Or whatever it is you want. I’ll get it for you. The only time our process doesn’t work is if you refuse to play by my rules.” I arched my eyebrows at the sound of her teeth clenching. “Or when the match isn’t your ideal match. But if you’re here, that means it’s already been settled, and if you listen to me, you’ll have your guy. But if for some reason this David isn’t a soul-saving Mother Teresa saint who shits rainbows, or if you change your mind about him, then we’ll find you someone else who’s a better match. It’s the perfect program. Believe me—Lex designed it, and he’s a genius.”
This was always the part I hated. The thinking part, when I waited for the client to say yes or no. Women overanalyzed everything, and again, I didn’t have time for it. Patience made me shaky.
“Anonymity is key. In public, people speculate that we’re dating or maybe even together. In private, I coach you, help you find whatever dormant sexuality you’ve kept hiding under all that hair and those flip-flops. And after a few days, or”—I winced at her clothing—“maybe in your case a few weeks”—she glared—“we part ways with a handshake, or a high five, if that’s your preference, and you skip off into the sunset with your one and only true love.”
“Can I think about it?”
“Sure.” I nodded. “You have two minutes. Also, did you miss the part where I said sunset? True love?”
“Two minutes?” She started breathing heavy.
“My time is precious. Next to kissing, it’s another one of my currencies, the most valuable thing I have. Don’t waste it.”
“It was an impulse! A girl on my team gave me your card after I was complaining about being invisible to David, and—”
“Megan,” I said, snapping my fingers. “Nice girl. Helped her pick out her wedding colors before the poor bastard even knew she liked him.”
Blake’s mouth dropped open. “You mean you were the one that said to go with orange blossom and white?”
“They complement each other so well. Besides, he’s a football player and legally color-blind in both eyes. Guy can’t see worth shit, and she needed help.”
“So not only do you know everyone at this school, but you know every athlete too?”
“I possess a lot of school spirit. Wanna hear the fight song?”
Blake stared down at the ground.
“Thirty seconds.”
Her head jerked up.
“Twenty.”
Panic was starting to set in as her eyes darted back and forth between me and a route of escape.
“Ten.”
“Fine,” she yelled. “Fine.” With a jerk she pulled her hair from her ponytail holder, then retwisted it. “What?”
I frowned. “Is all that real?”
“What?”
“Your hair.”
“Yes.”
Without asking permission, I tugged her hair out of the rubber band and ran it through my fingers, savoring the silky feel. “It’s perfect. Men are suckers for long hair. I think it goes back to the early days when cavemen would grab women by the hair and tug them back to their sad little hay beds and make sweet love to them.”
“That’s”—Blake shook her head—“probably one of the most offensive things I’ve ever heard.”
I shrugged. “Get used to it. As of right now, you’ll hear a lot of shit. That’s because I don’t believe in candy-coating anything. Honesty is key, and, baby, I’ve gotta be real honest here.” I let out a loud sigh. “If you want to turn the head of the captain of the basketball team, we’ve got a lot of work to do.”
Her shoulders slumped.
“But I’m the best.” I wrapped my arm around her waist and tugged her against me. “We start tonight.”
“Tonight?”
“I’ll e-mail you the questionnaire for the second stage, and the schedule once I talk to Lex.” I stepped away from her. “Oh, and if David seeks you out at all during this process, talk to me first. If he texts you today, ignore him. If he calls you, tell him you’re busy with your new study partner.”