The Billionaire and the Matchmaker
“What’s that supposed to mean?” Confusion wracked Emily’s face. She reached for the paper, but Lydia snatched it away.
“I added your information into the database yesterday afternoon. There was nothing better to do and I was curious.”
Dark clouds formed in Emily’s eyes. “Tell me you didn’t...”
“I knew you’d never have the guts.” Lydia lifted her chin and smirked. “It’s my job as your best friend to look out for your best interests, even if you feel inclined to neglect your own happiness. It was just an experiment, to see if any matches pinged. And it did. You had one match.”
“You’re not just saying that to set me up with that guy that was in here the other day?” Emily raised her eyebrows and gave her a dangerous look. Lydia hadn’t stopped dropping hints about Michael Knight since the moment he came in. “Because if you are...”
“No, I swear I didn’t cheat.” Lydia made a crossing motion over her heart. “If you trust your mother’s system as much as you say you do, then it’s the real deal.”
“That’s impossible.”
She snatched the paper from Lydia’s hand and scanned over the black text. For one heart-wrenching moment, she imagined Michael’s face on the page. However, disappointment struck hard when all she saw was the address for her favorite restaurant, Lorenzo’s Italian. There wasn’t even a name attached to her mysterious date.
“What’s this supposed to mean?”
“It’s where you’re meeting your match tonight for your first date. No name, no picture. I don’t want you googling him and finding ten reasons to dump him already.” Lydia began to walk away, her heels clicking on the cracked linoleum floor. “Eight sharp. Don’t be late.”
Emily felt blood rush to her face. She sputtered and stared at the paper, her heart pounding in her chest. “I’m not doing this, Lydia. You know I can’t.”
“You can if you want my apartment.” She sat at her desk and gave her a pointed look. “Edward has a much bigger place than I do and it only makes sense that I move in with him. So, either I need to find a subletter, or I give it to you. Rent is already paid through the end of the year.”
Lydia’s family owned a few vineyards in Napa Valley. They didn’t lack for funds, neither did their part-time employed daughter who had moved out here in the hopes of becoming an actress or a rich socialite.
“So, let me get this straight.” The paper in Emily’s hand shook as both shock and excitement coursed through her veins. “You’re using your rent-free apartment as blackmail to get me to go out on a date?”
“Four dates, to be exact.” Lydia held up four slender fingers. “Give this guy a real chance. Commit to four dates with him and the apartment is all yours.”
She ground her teeth and crumpled the paper in her hand. Part of her was furious at her so-called best friend for forcing her into this situation. She was p
erfectly fine as she was: single and hopeless.
So what if she complained about having nothing to do on most weekends? And so what if the last time she watched You’ve Got Mail she sobbed like a baby into her chocolate chip ice cream? There were standards to be maintained in a friendship and forcing your bestie to date a mysterious man was just not part of them. He could be a serial killer, for all she knew.
But then again, even the threat of a date with Ted Bundy paled in comparison to the glory of that little apartment. It was extremely difficult to find an affordable dig in Silicon Valley. She’d pretty much resigned herself to the fact that she was going to have to rent a place with three roommates and one tiny bathroom on her budget. But no longer. That apartment was hers.
“Fine.” She clutched the paper in her fist. “I’ll do it. Four completely innocent dates. Nothing more. And definitely no kissing or hanky-panky. You understand me?”
Lydia cheered and threw her cup of pens into the air like confetti.
“But know this,” Emily added through gritted teeth. “When I’m maid of honor at your wedding, I’m not wearing any of those ugly dresses you like to circle in bridal magazines. I’m going to look fabulous. I deserve it, after this.”
Rolling her eyes, Lydia turned back to her computer. “Whatever you want, boss. It’ll be worth it when your perfect match escorts you to my elegant wedding. You’ll see.”
“Yeah, yeah.” Emily marched to her office, waving the paper over her head. “Don’t hold your breath. I’d hate for your fiancé to blame me for your untimely death.”
Chapter Four
Michael walked through the doors of Lorenzo’s Italian restaurant, determined to get this date over with. He already had copies of the intro application. That alone would help Smithy tailor his program immensely. Now all that was left was to go on a couple of dates and assess how effective Sevenson Selective’s process was and get out.
No drama. No mess.
“Meeting someone?”
The older slim blonde waitress behind the receptionist podium eyed him up and down, taking in his black dress pants, blue shirt, and black tie. He hadn’t known what to wear on a blind date, so he went with something less authoritative than his usual power suits.
“Yes.” He scanned the crowded dining room, the hearty scent of garlic and baking bread making him want to inhale deeply. “A date. I’m afraid I don’t know her name or what she looks like.”