His Curvy Enemy - Curvy Girl Dating Agency

“You mean, you deny people a chance at love?” I could see the gears churning in his head and I could only imagine how he’d spin that story on his podcast.

“No, we advise them of the risks associated with a lower compatibility score, but these are all adults who can make their own decisions.” It usually didn’t take those adventurous couples to realize why we hadn’t matched them in the first place. “You’re free to browse other profiles first to get an idea of the best way to present yourself to your future wife.”

He practically choked on his next breath at my words, which gave me more satisfaction than it should. “Funny. I know how to sell myself just fine, thanks.”

If I had a nickel for every bachelor who’d said those words to me, I’d be a rich woman. “Great! Let’s take the profile photo right away and then we can write it up and have it posted by tonight.”

“Tonight?”

I nodded. “Nervous?”

Oliver frowned and puffed his chest out just a little bit more. “Hell no, I’m not nervous of a few photos.”

I nodded at his words, taking in his wardrobe. The outfit he wore today was sexy in a simple, traditional way, but he made it look damn good. Still, most men wanted to make more of an effort. “You don’t want to change clothes or add any accessories?”

“I’m a man, Eva, I don’t need accessories. My hairbows are in my other dress,” he retorted.

“Fine. Follow me.” The last door before the emergency exit was our photo studio. It wasn’t much, but it met our needs for now. Reaching my hand up and to the left, I smacked the lights on and we stepped inside. “You’ll stand right there. I need to adjust some of these lights.” It was busy work, but hopefully it would keep the conversation to a minimum.

“This place is a lot bigger than it looks from the outside.”

I nodded, it was a comment we all heard often. “How else would we spend our ill-gotten gains?”

“Not ill-gotten. People give you their money freely, in false hope of finding forever.”

“That’s a pretty ignorant opinion from a man who’s never been in love before.” At least, according to his questionnaire.

“And you have?”

I nodded and readjusted the lights. “A time or two.”

“I don’t see a ring on your finger.”

“Relationships are about compatibility, not falling in love with the wrong person and trying to make it work. You’re such an expert on women, but I don’t see any of your temporary women banging down your door to get you to commit.”

“Because they know the score. They know what to expect and what not to hope for.” Oliver folded his arms defensively, spoiling for a fight.

And I wasn’t necessarily opposed to giving him one. “Or maybe they realize that you’re only good for a good time.” I could tell that thought had never occurred to him and I snapped a few test photos while my words sank in.

“Whatever the reason, it means no unnecessary drama which works for me.”

“What’s your fixation with drama, Oliver? Scared of your emotions?” Charming men made you believe they were in touch with their feelings, but mostly they were sociopaths, able to mimic human emotions with surprising ease.

“Afraid? Hardly. Life is too exciting to add drama for the sake of drama. I’d rather be hiking or fishing, playing basketball, or hanging with my boys. Not fighting because I admired a beautiful woman in a beautiful pink dress.”

There was that charm again. “It’s magenta, actually.”

“Take the compliment,” he said with a playful groan.

“Say something genuine and maybe I will. Now, give me your best smolder for the camera.”

“Aren’t you worried that I’ll use my profile to sleep with your husband hunters?”

I shrugged. The thought had occurred to me, but I’d let it go immediately for one important reason. “I think some women will be fooled by your physical appeal, thinking they can change you despite a low compatibility score.”

“You sayin’ I have physical appeal, Eva?”

I nodded. “You are, objectively, good looking. More so when you make an effort. But we’re all adults here and everyone gets to make their own mistakes.”

“Ouch. Don’t sugarcoat it on my account.”

“I won’t,” I told him. “Ever.” It didn’t take too long to get a few good photos for the profile because, of course, Oliver was good at just about everything. “All right, now let’s get your profile completed and published.”

The first few pages were easy to fill out, basic information found on just about any dating profile app or website. Oliver felt confident he didn’t need help landing a woman but, despite his charm and his good looks, he was as hopeless as the others. “What’s wrong with that?”

“That prudes are one of your turnoffs?” I snorted and shook my head. “It makes you sound like an ass.”