The Billionaire and the Matchmaker

“I think we need to start over,” she said, pursing her lips. “I was such a mess in there. Do you mind?”

He glanced down at her, the corner of his mouth twitching as he expertly spun her around. “Sure. How do you propose we manage that?”

She chewed on her bottom lip, thinking for a moment. “How about an elevator pitch of each of our lives? Quick and dirty.”

“Elevator pitch, huh?” He pulled her closer, a teasing glint in his eyes. “Are you sure this isn’t a business meeting?”

“Hey, I’m supposed to be the dating expert.” She laughed and tried to dispel the nerves making her voice quiver. “Just go with it, okay?”

“All right, Ms. Dating Expert. You go first.”

She inhaled through her nose and sighed. “I’m twenty-eight. Went to college here in San Jose. Never been married. It’s always just been my mom and me. She passed down the family business to me. I adore kittens, although I’m allergic. And I can’t stand clowns. They give me the creeps.”

He chuckled at her confession and then tensed his jaw. She could sense a bit of hesitation in his silence, although he stared over her shoulder with all the confidence of someone used to holding the floor. Finally, he snuck a sideways glance down at her.

“I’m thirty. Never married. My parents would’ve disowned me if I didn’t go to Harvard. I work for my dad, although he plans to retire in a few years and leave me the business. I’m more of a dog person myself, but I can’t stand Chihuahuas. They’re nasty little brutes that bite surprisingly hard. My old neighbor’s Chihuahua hates me. His name is Sweetie, strangely enough.”

Emily smiled. She liked his subtle sense of humor and the way his dark eyes twinkled when he made a joke. “So, we’ve established that you’re a dog person and I’m a cat person. This will never work out.”

“Yes, that is the most basic of all human laws.” His lips twitched again. “I guess your matchmaking system is flawed after all.”

“Never!” Her jaw dropped and she faked an angry expression. “Be careful Mr. Knight, or I just might have to double your rates.”

He laughed, low and throaty, before leaning down to whisper in her ear. “Please, call me Michael.”

His warm breath on her neck made her shiver unexpectedly.

“And Emily, of course.”

The song ended and the next one began. Michael didn’t let go of her hand. He kept her pressed tight to him as they swayed to the next song. Emily could feel heat rising in her stomach. She swallowed hard, trying not to let herself get swept away by the romantic music or the brilliant sunset leaving red and orange streaks over the city.

In order to distract herself, she peppered him with questions about his childhood. He answered them all and eventually she forgot her reservations. As they continued dancing, once or twice, Emily snuck a glance at her date from beneath her eyelashes.

He really was good looking, if you liked the tall, dark, and handsome type. He had angular cheekbones and a strong chin that definitely made him worthy of a GQ magazine cover. And those thick, dark eyelashes were quite swoon-worthy.

Although he still seemed a bit uptight, he’d played along with her twenty questions during the evening. She’d even gotten a few rare smiles out of him. So far, her radar hadn’t picked up anything glaring.

Maybe he really was a unicorn.

“Last question before I should head home,” she said as the final song drew to an end. She squeezed his hand and gave him a teasing smile. “If you weren’t on this date tonight, where would you be?”

He thought about it for a moment and then shrugged his shoulders. “If I’m going to be honest, probably at the office, working late. My father’s really been on me lately to close some deals.”

She nodded, impressed at his honesty. At least he wasn’t a bum. She imagined Harvard grads had laziness practically beaten out of them. “Same here. That’s what it takes to keep a business afloat, unfortunately.”

They gazed at each other for a long moment before she felt her cheeks warm. This really wasn’t the date she’d expected. She couldn’t help but like Michael Knight’s quiet, strong demeanor. He seemed to actually listen to her when she spoke and wasn’t just ogling her shirt or talking about himself the entire time.

Finally, the music ended and he let go of her, step

ping back. She tried not to show her disappointment. She was the one who said she needed to go home, after all. Why did she suddenly feel like she’d made a mistake?

“May I give you a ride home?” Michael pointed at a sleek two-toned silver Bugatti Chiron parked on the street nearby. “My car’s just there.”

She stared slack-jawed at the luxurious vehicle. She’d figured his family had to be pretty wealthy to send him to Harvard, but this was something else. Apparently, his father’s business was quite a success.

“Thanks, but I drove my old beetle,” she said, motioning over her shoulder at the rusty yellow clunker just halfway down the block. It looked like a mess, but it had been good to her when everything else in her life seemed to be crumbling.

“I see.” There was no judgement in his eyes when he glanced at her car, just a slight hint of regret. He stepped closer, making her heart skip. “May I take you out again next week? This time, my treat?”