His Curvy Enemy - Curvy Girl Dating Agency

“You got it, Boss.” She flashed a bright smile and went back to typing up something, probably a script for one of Olive’s practice date classes. It was one of our most popular features and one of the reasons we were already operating in the black.

I returned to my office to work on other items on my to-do list, because I refused to let Oliver derail my day with his inconsiderate behavior. Marketing was a never-ending job filled with constant tasks in a world that never truly went to sleep, so there was always something to do, whether it was for Time For Love or Vargas Marketing. I got so lost in work that I lost track of time until Kendra appeared in the doorway.

“Ms. Vargas, Mr. March has arrived. Finally.” She winced at that last word and took a step back. “Sorry.”

I stood and smiled. “No, you are absolutely right.” Kendra and I walked to the reception area together and found Oliver sprawled out on the red loveseat like he owned the place. “Mr. March, so nice of you to remember our appointment.”

Oliver’s blue eyes blinked. Twice. Surprise flashed on his face at my words. “How could I possibly forget?” His smile was charming, a fact I filed away for when his profile was created.

I arched a brow at him and folded my arms. “You seem to have forgotten the time since here you are, fifteen minutes late.” I found it was always best to lay out expectations right up front. “Just so there is no confusion going forward, I expect you to show up when you say you will. This is a business and contrary to your negative opinion of me, my company, and the work we do here, you are not our only client. If you don’t plan to take this seriously, say so now.”

Oliver said nothing and Kendra scrambled off to hide behind the waist-high desk that Sophie and Olive had insisted on. He looked up at me for a long moment, lips slowly stretching into a playful smile. “You’re kind of hot when you get all wound up.”

“Great. Thanks for stopping by, Oliver, have a nice life.” No bet was worth putting up with a guy who didn’t take anything seriously. Ever.

“Wait!” The volume more than the word stopped my forward momentum and I turned to face him. “I’m sorry, okay? This is all new to me and you’re so serious about… everything.”

I ignored the jibe and moved my hands from folded over my chest to fisted at my hips. “And you don’t take anything seriously. This is a business, Oliver, whether you acknowledge it or not.” I glanced at my watch—thirty-five minutes to go. “If you still want to do this, we have just over a half-hour to get through the first couple of steps.” I stood and waited for him to make up his mind, keeping my expression blank so he knew that it didn’t matter to me what he decided.

“Fine.” Oliver unfolded his body and stood, grabbing a cardboard drink carrier. “I brought coffee and sugar to help us get through this.” There was that damned smile again, as charming as could be. For the easily charmed.

Which I was not.

“I’ve already had coffee, but I won’t say no if you have a bear claw in there.”

His smile only grew as he drew closer. “And a cronut, a little birdy told me they were your favorite.”

“Second favorite,” I corrected, just to be difficult. “And thank you. That was considerate of you.” Maybe he wasn’t completely hopeless.

“I’m a considerate guy.”

“Sometimes,” I amended and led him into my office. “Take a seat at the table, we’ll get started on the questionnaire since that’s about all we’ll have time for today.”

“I already apologized,” he sighed, annoyance creeping into his voice.

“That doesn’t change the fact that we have a lot to do and not much time to do it. I’m sorry if you find the truth inconvenient. Take a seat.” I stopped at my desk to grab two folders before joining Oliver at the table. “All right. Usually, people who come to us want to find love, so we ask them why they think they’ve had such a hard time finding it. Care to give answering a shot?”

Oliver took his time. Leaning casually in his seat, he folded one leg over the other, ankle crossed at the knee just to show that he was unaffected. The look suited him, especially today in his light, well-worn jeans and the blue and white shirt that amplified his golden good looks. Oliver shrugged and leaned forward, his tone glib and arrogant. “Easy. Because I’m not looking for love.”

Such an expected answer, and worse, it wasn’t even unique. It was the ready answer for reluctant bachelors who were forced, by either circumstance or finances, to marry sooner than they would have liked. “And when or if you ever become ready, you’ll find exactly what you want and need in a partner easily. Right?”