by Nella Tyler
“Kind of in-between,” she replied. “I’ll ask you a few general questions, and you tell me what sounds ideal, and we’ll try and select those women who match both what you want and what your profile and Natalie’s reports say would be most compatible.”
“Let’s get started then,” I told her. “What’s the first question?”
“Do you tend to have any preferences in terms of hair color, eye color, skin tone, things like that?” I pictured Natalie in my mind.
“I definitely tend to prefer brunettes,” I said. “Though of course if there’s a blonde or a redhead who’s a better match personality-wise, I’m sure she’ll be beautiful.
“We all have preferences,” Katie told me, her voice encouraging. “I tend to like redheads, myself.”
I chuckled. “Going for that elusive recessive genetics?”
Katie snorted. “There was a boy who stole my heart in elementary school—very red haired, down to the freckles and blue eyes. Stuck with me. Any preference in terms of eye color or skin tone?”
“None on skin tone,” I said, not wanting to make my preferences too obvious. “But I do love dark eyes.”
“Okay,” Katie said. “Any personality traits that you know you’re fond of?”
“Hmm,” I replied. “I definitely want someone who’s strong and independent-minded. A sense of humor is a must, of course—I can’t be serious all the time. Someone who takes their work seriously, but knows how to cut loose.” I considered how to capture the traits I liked the best in Natalie. How would I describe her to my friends if I were dating her? “Someone who’s educated and intelligent, but she doesn’t have to have a PhD or anything. At least some college, though.”
“Any particular major?” I thought about it. It would be too telling to specify Psychology—I knew that Natalie had been in that field of study.
“No particular major,” I said. “Just some level of college education.”
“Okay,” Katie said. “What about interests?”
“Music is a big one,” I replied. “Movies. I’d prefer someone who likes to be a little active, who likes to get out and do things. Going to the park, bowling, things like that.”
“Someone who’s social?”
I nodded, even though Katie couldn’t see me. “Exactly. Someone who wants to do more than just go out to dinner and go home.”
“Okay, I’ve got that noted,” she said. “Do you have a preference on someone who’s got kids or not?”
“I am okay with someone who has kids, especially at my age,” I said, smiling to myself. “I mean, after all—I don’t want to limit the field for no reason, right?”
“Very good of you,” she said, and I could hear amusement in her voice. “There are some guys who very specifically want a woman who has no kids already—so the question made its way onto the list for that reason. Any other things you want to add?” I thought about the question and tried to think of anything that I could say that might push her in a direction closer to the type of person Natalie was.
“I think that covers it,” I said. “If I think of anything, can I call you back?”
“Of course,” she said. “We can refine your guidelines any time you want.” I finished up the conversation with her and told Katie that I looked forward to meeting the women she set me up with. I could only hope that I could find someone as good as Natalie who would actually be interested in having a relationship with me.
Chapter Thirty Three
Natalie
I pulled into the parking lot of the library where Zeke had told me to meet him and glanced in my rearview mirror to make sure that Brady was awake in the backseat. “Ready to have some fun, bug?” Brady grinned, looking up into the mirror at me.
“Mr. Zeke?”
“Yep, he wanted us all to go somewhere together,” I told him—as I had told Brady when Zeke had let me know he had a date in mind for the three of us. I was a little wary, but since I hadn’t made the decision yet of how to tell Katie to take me off the case—or even decided whether or not I could make myself do it—I had gone along with it. There was no point in being prejudiced towards anything Zeke had in mind until I figured out how I was going to handle the situation. Katie said she was going to start setting him up with matches soon, I reminded myself. Maybe the problem will just go away altogether. Maybe if you wait long enough, he’ll meet someone, and then… Of course, then he wouldn’t be interested in me at all anymore, which would sting, but at least I wouldn’t have to make a decision and risk my career.
“Where we going?” That was a question I didn’t know the answer to. Zeke had told me that he wanted me to meet him at the library, and he’d take Brady and me to the location of our date—it was supposed to be a surprise.
“We’re going to go somewhere fun,” I said simply. I didn’t know for sure if Brady would find whatever place Zeke decided to take us fun—but Zeke had a good track record of picking dates that my son would like when he asked me to bring Brady along with me, so I was hopeful.
I got out of the car and went around to the back to get Brady out of his car seat. I had maybe ten minutes before the meeting time that Zeke had specified. I unbuckled the latches on the seat and lifted Brady out of it, stepping back from the door. “Remember little man: when I set you down you stay right next to me, right?” Brady nodded his acceptance of that condition, and I set him carefully down on the ground at my feet. I closed the door and locked up the car, and reached out for my son’s hand to walk to the library’s entrance with him. Normally, people were pretty careful in the library parking lot—but I didn’t want to risk the one time someone came careening around the corner.
I gave Brady my keys to amuse himself with and sat down on a bench outside of the library entrance to wait for Zeke to arrive, racking my brain to try and figure out where he would take us. I didn’t think it would be the mini-golf course—that would be too obvious and not a surprise at all. Laser tag would be a bit dangerous for my toddler son, and I knew Zeke had too much sense for that. It must be something that he thinks Brady would have fun at, but what?
Before I could come up with any real theories, Zeke appeared, grinning. “I’m not late, am I?”
“Nope,” I said, smiling at him as Brady rushed back to me, looking up at Zeke with a mixture of excitement and shyness. “I got here early; I wanted to make sure I had Brady under control a bit before we went anywhere.”
“How’s it going, Brady?” Zeke crouched down a few feet away from my son, getting to his eye level. “Been taking care of your mom?”
“Mm-hmm!” He grinned at Zeke. “How are you?”
“I’m very well,” Zeke replied. He didn’t rise up, but looked at me from his position close to the ground. “I think you’ll really like the place we’re going.”
“Where is that, by the way?” Zeke grinned even more broadly and looked at my son, one eyebrow raised.
“Do you like getting messy, Brady?”
“Yes!” Brady’s eyes went wide with excitement and he took a step closer to Zeke, looking fascinated.
“Then you’re going to have a lot of fun where we’re going to go.” He turned to me again. “I’m glad you’re not in anything you can’t get wet or messy,” he told me, looking me up and down.
“You did say to dress casual,” I pointed out. “I took that seriously.” I could feel myself tingling with anticipation and tried to push down the sensation; this wasn’t a normal date with someone I wanted to be involved with. This was nothing more than a practice date. I had to remain at least a little bit professional while I was still working with Zeke—it was the only way that I could keep my head above water in the situation.
“Let’s head out then,” he said, rising up out of his crouch. “I just realized: Brady needs to use a car seat, doesn’t he?” I nodded. “Can I help you grab it? I’ll be driving us to our destination, if you don’t mind.” I knew I probably shouldn’t agree to that condition, but it was easier—especially with Brady in tow�
��to go along with it.
In a matter of minutes, the car seat was out of my car and mounted in the backseat of Zeke’s SUV, and Brady was amusing himself with my keys and a plastic car toy that Zeke had for him. You can’t keep letting him buy Brady presents, you need to put a stop to that, I told myself, even as I climbed into the front passenger seat. But it was going to be much easier to keep Brady in a good mood with a toy to amuse him than it would have been with just my keys.
I was relieved to find that Zeke was a decent driver. He didn’t speed or try to cut across traffic, as we made our way to our mystery destination. “Come on, you can tell me already,” I said, watching out the window for any signs or landmarks that could tell me where we were going.
“Nope,” Zeke said, shaking his head. “It’s a surprise. You don’t get to know until we get there.”
“What if it’s not appropriate for my son?” I looked at Zeke wryly and stuck my tongue out at him. “Got a plan B?”
“According to the person I arranged this with,” Zeke told me, “it is an ideal place for families—even and especially families with toddlers.”
“We’re not a family,” I pointed out. He shrugged, grinning.
“I might have hedged a little bit—but it’s family-friendly and safe for kids. I think you’ll have fun there, too. Loosen up a bit.” I looked at him askance, but settled in to wait and find out where we were going.
After about fifteen minutes of driving, I finally caught sight of where Zeke was taking us: he pulled into the turn lane as we approached a sign that read Paint Balloon Course! And underneath that, I saw the words Messy fun for everyone! “Paint balloons?” I looked at Zeke and he chuckled.
“Well, Brady’s a bit young for actual paintballs, isn’t he?”
“Considering the bruises those leave behind, I have to agree,” I said.
“This should be a lot of fun,” Zeke said as he turned in at the entrance. I noticed—to my concern—that the parking lot had only about three or four cars in it. “We’ll have a chance to run around, pelt each other with paint, and have a good time.”
“Are they a new business?” I gestured to the almost-empty parking lot and Zeke’s smile deepened.
“Nope,” he said, picking a spot near the entrance. “I just paid for them to give us sole access to the place. Didn’t want to risk Brady getting trampled by someone else.” My eyes widened. Zeke had rented out the whole course for the three of us? The rest of the few cars in the lot must—I decided—be for the employees. Alarm bells rang in my head at the fact that Zeke had gone to such trouble, and had planned such an expensive date.
“Brady, we’re going to get all messy and covered in paint—how does that sound?” I knew I shouldn’t be asking my son what he thought of a date I was doubtful about, especially one that he was sure to love. But he was already in the car. He already knew we were going somewhere.
“Yay!” I smiled at Zeke, considering the situation. I should—I knew—ask him to take us to the plan B date he was sure to have lined up, but I didn’t want to upset my son or throw a wrench into things.
We got out of the vehicle and went into the building that led out to the course. “You three are going to have a great time,” one of the employees told us. “It’ll be great—no worries about anyone else, the full course at your disposal.” They gave us jumpsuits—pure white—and buckets of little paint-filled balloons. Brady looked adorable in his tiny white jumpsuit. I thought again about asking Zeke to take us somewhere else, but it would just be mean to the people who’d come in to work the course for the three of us.
We went out into the course, and Zeke and I gave Brady a head start. “It’s like hide and seek, buddy,” I explained to my son. “Go find your hiding spot, and we’ll come look for you.” Brady’s idea of a good hiding spot was not exactly strategic, so Zeke and I had to take turns pretending not to notice him until he ran out from behind whichever haystack or pile of debris he had chosen. Zeke and I alternated being “it”—chasing each other and my son, throwing balloons of paint, darting behind whatever obstructions we could to keep from getting hit ourselves. I had to admit, as we all splattered each other with paint and ran until we were breathless, that it was an amazing date, but it was an amazing date that felt too real—too much like a date that Zeke should be taking an actual girlfriend on.
I kept that thought out of my mind and threw my paint balloons, indiscriminately splashing my son and my client, and getting splattered myself. Brady—who always loved any excuse to get messy—laughed and shouted and screamed with joy, running himself into exhaustion between Zeke and me. I couldn’t quite make myself believe that what I’d agreed to was exactly okay, but I couldn’t make myself end the date or tell Zeke to take us somewhere else, either. I gave myself up to the fun of the date and tried not to think too hard about how much fun I was having. I would just have to deal with it later. I would just have to do put aside my professional issues and let my son—and myself—enjoy what time I had left with Zeke. He would be out of my life again soon enough, and I’d rather have memories than nothing.
Chapter Thirty Four
Zeke
I walked up to the entrance of Beurre, the restaurant I’d agreed to meet my date at, feeling nervous. In spite of all the coaching from Natalie, and in spite of the fact that I’d gone on a couple of dates with Brigitte from the coffee shop, this was a completely different kind of thing.
Katie had called me a few days before to set up the date. She had found me a match—the first of a handful of options I would have to choose from and who had me in their lists—and she wanted to know how it went and what I thought of the woman. I hadn’t told Natalie when the call had come, and I didn’t really want to think about why, but I promised myself that if the date with Chelsea was half as successful as the first one with Brigitte had been, I would tell her—without going overboard with singing the woman’s praises. I had learned my lesson about that.
I didn’t know almost anything about the woman I was meeting, other than her name. Katie had set it up so that my date would be waiting at my table for me. She had texted to confirm that Chelsea had arrived about ten minutes before I parked my car.
I approached the hostess stand, smiling at the woman there: she was a tall, willowy brunette, maybe twenty-two on the outside, dressed in all black. “I’m meeting someone,” I told her. “My date has arrived, but the reservation was under my name: Zeke Baxter.”
“Ah—yes,” the hostess said, mirroring my smile. “I’ll take you right to the table.” She grabbed a menu and gestured for me to follow her. “First date?” I nodded.
“It’s a blind date,” I told her. The hostess’ green eyes showed her intrigue.
“I hope you have a great evening, then,” the woman said. I followed her through the dining room, looking around. It was a typical fine dining restaurant, with the standard white tablecloths, crystal, and place settings. The floors were wood rather than carpet, but otherwise, it was like any other high-end restaurant I’d been in—and almost against my will I remembered my first meeting with Natalie. Don’t think about her. You’re on a date with an entirely different woman right now.
The hostess stopped at a table and I took a moment to smile at my date. Chelsea stood, and I saw that she was maybe two or three inches shorter than me—tall—with medium-brown hair streaked with reddish highlights and blue eyes. She wore a simple black dress and a set of pearls, and her fingernails were painted a soft pinkish color. I thought she was probably about twenty-five or twenty-six, around Natalie’s age, but other than that, there wasn’t much that seemed similar between the two women from a physical standpoint. “Pleased to meet you,” I said, reaching out for Chelsea’s hand. We shook, and I sat down across the table from her.
“You are…better-looking than I imagined,” Chelsea said, smiling slightly. She had dimples, which was at least slightly endearing, but the smile didn’t quite reach to her bright eyes.
“You imagined me?”
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She chuckled, letting her hands rest on the tabletop. “Well of course,” she said with a shrug. “You didn’t imagine me?”
“I didn’t have anything to go on,” I pointed out.
“I managed to get Katie to give me a little description of you,” she admitted. “Then, too, you’re the third guy I’ve met through the service.” I resisted the urge to raise an eyebrow at that; Katie had told me she had four or five women total for me to meet—I couldn’t turn my nose up at the fact that the women would have more than one potential partner to meet, as well.
“I’m glad that I exceed expectations then,” I said, smiling. “Should we get down to the business of getting to know each other—or do you want to order first?” Chelsea bit her bottom lip and reached for her glass of water, taking a quick sip.
“Let’s go ahead and order, that way we don’t have as many interruptions,” she said finally.
When the waiter came, I ordered the petite steak with roasted vegetables and duchess potatoes, and Chelsea ordered a grilled chicken paillard with a garden salad. I had no right to find that faintly boring, but I did. “So, tell me about what you’d normally be doing tonight,” I suggested as soon as we were alone once more.
“Most likely I’d be at home, reading,” she said. “Or listening to a podcast. Maybe both.” I nodded to that. “You?”
“Watching TV, or if I wanted to be out of the house, maybe visiting a gallery, or checking out an event downtown. Do you like going out?” Chelsea half-shrugged.
“Not really. I mean, obviously it’s not like this is some kind of torture or anything—but apart from doing things like hiking, or surfing, stuff like that, I don’t really like to go out.”
“Those are out,” I countered, keeping the smile on my face.
“Right, but I mean, I don’t like things like big events or those kinds of social things,” she explained. I kept myself from frowning. I was willing to make a few compromises, but I liked having a social life, and I liked going out to places—not just to be outdoors, but also to meet with people.