His Curvy Enemy - Curvy Girl Dating Agency

Oliver nodded, bouncing the flop of blond hair that only added to his appeal, but his expression was wary. Like he was walking into a trap. “Exactly.”

That was crap, but only time would teach him that particular lesson, not me. “All right, then. Let’s get on with the questionnaire.”

“Hit me with your best shot.” His cocky smile held a certain appeal, if you were new to dating and couldn’t spot a player from a mile away—which I was not. And I could.

“What is your idea of a perfect night for romance?”

“Dinner and maybe a show. Then my place, or hers, for dessert.” There was that cocky smile again, to match his less-than-serious answer.

I jotted it down and moved on. “Describe yourself in three words.”

“Easygoing. Intelligent. Good-looking.”

Obvious. Obvious. Obvious. But it was worse than that; he was obvious and boring. “Most important traits you’re looking for in a mate?”

“That’s easy. Gorgeous. Easy to talk to. Not too opinionated.” He flashed a smile and I returned my gaze to the tablet, recording his answers with a blank expression. “That was a joke, in case you didn’t notice.”

I looked up at him, feigning confusion. “So, maybe you want to change that answer to ‘has a good sense of humor’?” It was satisfying to see the embarrassed look on his face.

“Yeah, sure. Change it.”

Getting Oliver to answer questions like this was the equivalent of trying to pull teeth with pliers and Advil. “How would you describe your parents’ relationship?”

“Contentious when they’re in the same room. Peaceful after the divorce.”

Now, we were getting somewhere. “How old were you when they divorced?”

“Ten,” he replied on a shrug and I could just imagine that ten-year-old boy, scared and hurt but determined to be tough.

“That had to be difficult.” Oliver wasn’t the kind of guy who was comfortable with his emotions or sympathy, so I kept moving forward. “What traits do you consider a dealbreaker in a future partner?”

“A negative attitude. Closed-mindedness. No sense of adventure.” Sounded like he was looking to date a supermodel or a social media influencer rather than a real woman, but I kept those thoughts to myself. “Bet you can’t find a flaw with those answers.”

“The point isn’t to find a flaw, it’s to find a woman or man with whom you are compatible. These questions will help.”

His blond brows dipped low. “Just so we’re clear, I’m looking for a woman.”

I laughed at the concern swimming in his blue eyes and tapped a finger to my chin. “And I thought you weren’t looking at all.”

“Hey, I guess you do have a sense of humor, after all.”

“Amazing the things you find out by asking a few questions. Keep that in mind for your future dates.” Oliver didn’t strike me as a guy who asked a lot of questions beyond did you catch last night’s game? and your place or mine? Maybe, at the very least, he’d learn to be a more attentive date.

“I ask questions, just not where do you see yourself in five years? Or how many children do you want?” There was a hint of challenge in his eyes, but I didn’t take the bait.

“How about questions like, how was your day? What do you do for a living? Favorite food?” He blinked, confused, as if he’d walked into another trap. “There is something between a one-night stand and forever, Oliver. You do know that, right?”

“Of course I do,” he snapped.

My lips parted, fully prepared to give him a glimpse into the Vargas temper but the bell chimed on my phone. “Time’s up.”

He blinked again. “The questionnaire is complete?”

“No. You were late, so you have to fill it out and bring it back.” It would prolong the process, but I hoped it would also teach him a lesson.

Maybe. Hopefully.

“Seriously? I could have just filled this out?” He shook his head and stood. “Unbelievable. Is this how you get people’s money, unnecessary office visits?”

“This isn’t a doctor’s office, Oliver, you don’t pay by the visit.” I felt my blood starting to heat up, but I refused to unleash the Vargas temper on him on day one. It’d have to wait at least until day eight. “And usually, when people come in, they want to be here and we talk, get to know them, to get an idea of the best approach for them and what kind of person they’ll shine best with. Not that any of that matters to you.” There was no point in taking any of it so personally when he didn’t really care about the outcome, so I took a deep breath and let it out until I didn’t care, either. “Just fill out the questionnaire and you can email it so we can get on with this.”

“Eva,” he began but the timer chirped again, interrupting him.

“Let’s schedule the next meet for Wednesday. What time works for you?”