He stepped out of the fitting room and stood in front of the mirrors, looking at his reflection carefully. Probably searching for things not to like. “So, stay away from suits because they attract husband hunters. Got it.”
I rolled my eyes and remained silent, smoothing his lapels and the fabric across his shoulders so the suit laid perfectly. “This looks nice.”
“Nice,” he snorted. “That’s for guys who don’t get laid.”
I sighed, reaching for all the patience that existed within the department store before I said something I couldn’t take back. “I think we’ve established that is your primary goal for everything, Oliver, except this.” My gaze met his through the mirror and I hoped that he would either take this seriously or just end the bet.
For one second I thought maybe, just maybe, he’d smarten up, but the charming guy who didn’t take anything seriously showed up once again and reached for a burgundy velvet blazer with silk lapels. “How about this?”
I counted to ten in my head, reminding myself of the gleam in his eyes when he’d taken in his reflection for the first time and the way his chest had puffed out with pride, and I smiled. “If that’s the impression you want to make, try it on.”
“You’re no fun.” He pouted and shrugged out of the blazer I chose in favor of the velvet one.
“I’m working, Oliver.”
“Doesn’t mean you can’t have fun,” he shot back with a wink that would have been irresistible, if it had come from a grown man.
“Tell me that when you have a three-year-old with no respect for your work, banging on your keyboard while you try to write.”
He froze, velvet jacket paused at his elbows and turned to face me. “I’m the three-year-old in this scenario?”
“You? The guy who insists on undermining and second-guessing me at my job? Nope. I must be talking about some other metaphorical three-year-old.”
After he took his time to put the jacket on and lay it perfectly, Oliver turned to me. “What’s wrong with this jacket?”
“Nothing. If you’re seeking a trophy wife situation.” Those guys knew exactly what they wanted and didn’t want. And they were excellent listeners. Some of my favorite clients.
Oliver, though, was surprised. “What happened to true love?”
“True love is real and that’s the bulk of our matchmaking business, but we also match people who are looking for very specific things in a partner.”
Oliver, ever the pessimist, snorted in disbelief. “Like, sugar daddy goals?”
“No,” I said with a cold glare so he knew exactly what I thought of him and his ridiculous question. “But sometimes, for those of us who live in the real world, rich men or women tend to have different needs and goals. A rich woman might need a handsome and charming trophy husband to help her make partner. A newly wealthy man might seek a newly poor socialite to marry because she can open doors and teach him the etiquette that’s been ingrained in her since birth.” I shrugged at his bewildered look. “Like I said, the world isn’t black and white, Oliver.”
“Sounds like people getting married for financial reasons,” he said with all the petulance of a child.
“Seems to me like your dislike of relationships and commitment is pathological. You berate people who want to find love and judge the ones who get married for any reason other than love.”
He spent the next hour or so pouting, but he was quiet and pliant as we chose two outfits that could easily transform into four or more—if he chose to go on the dates and take this bet seriously.
Maybe he wouldn’t.
Nah, I wasn’t that lucky.
“I just didn’t expect that it was also so… I don’t know, clinical.”
That pulled a laugh from me, startling the young woman behind the counter. “It’s not easy finding the right partner, however you do it and whatever your goals are. Love. Compatibility. Advancement.”
“Another lesson?”
I shrugged. “If you need it to be. Adults just call it conversation.”
“All three blazers?” The clerk’s question stopped our sparring abruptly and we both turned to her, and then I turned to Oliver.
“Well, what’ll it be, Oliver?” Would he continue to be the three-year-old thwarting my efforts, or would he try? I didn’t even know which option I hoped for.
He sighed and took one hand from his pants pocket and pointed. “Those two. Put the other one back, please. Happy?”
I nodded and laughed. “Yes. And don’t pout, both of those jackets make your eyes look incredible.”
“Yeah?” Surprise and happiness resonated in his tone. “Incredible, huh? Then I have to get them both, don’t I?” His flirtatious grin had the clerk blushing like crazy.
“A-Absolutely,” she stammered and then looked away quickly.
“Smart girl,” I muttered. “He’s nothing but trouble.”
“That’s not a very nice thing to say, Eva.” His words and his tone were playful. Flirtatious. Irresistible. It was easy to see why a guy like him was in no hurry to settle down.