Dating Lazer
The Billionaire Matchmaker, Part Four
Gina Robinson
Contents
Copyright
One Man. So Many Women…
GinaRobinson.com
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Chapter 9
Chapter 10
Chapter 11
Chapter 12
Chapter 13
Chapter 14
Also by Gina Robinson
About the Author
Copyright © 2017 by Gina Robinson
All rights reserved.
No part of this book may be reproduced in any form or by any electronic or mechanical means, including information storage and retrieval systems, without written permission from the author, except for the use of brief quotations in a book review.
Gina Robinson
http://www.ginarobinson.com
Publisher’s Note: This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents are a product of the author’s imagination. Locales and public names are sometimes used for atmospheric purposes. Any resemblance to actual people, living or dead, or to businesses, companies, events, institutions, or locales is completely coincidental.
Cover Design: Jeff Robinson
Dating Lazer: The Billionaire Matchmaker 4/Gina Robinson. — 1st ed.
One Man. So Many Women…
One man. So many women to date. What's a guy to do?
Sexy billionaire Lazer Grayson's new matchmaking venture is open for business. His singles-finding app is ready to go. And, against his better judgment, he's on the dating circuit, going out with women his intriguing, alluring, beautiful business partner, matchmaker Ashley Harte, sets him up with. The women are everything he asked Ashley for—beautiful, talented, successful. On paper, they're perfect. Unfortunately, none of them occupy his every thought the way Ashley does. Something ethereal and essential is missing with each one. Is Ashley trying to teach him a lesson about love? Or is he about to give her one?
GinaRobinson.com
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The Billionaire Matchmaker Series
Part 1—Lazer Focused
Part 2—Harte Strings
Part 3—Pair Us
Part 4—Dating Lazer
Part 5—Match Point
The Billionaire Duke Series
Part 1—The Billionaire Duke
Part 2—The Duchess Contest
Part 3—The Temporary Duchess
Part 4—The American Heir
The Switched at Marriage Series
Part 1—A Wedding to Remember
Part 2—The Virgin Billionaire
Part 3—To Have and To Hold
Part 4—From This Day Forward
Part 5—For Richer, For Richest
Part 6—In Sickness and In Wealth
Part 7—To Love and To Cherish
The Billionaire’s Christmas Vows
Gina Robinson’s Contemporary New Adult Romance Series
The Rushed Series
These standalone romances can be read in any order. But it’s more fun to read them all!
Book 1—Rushed, Zach and Alexis’ story
Book 2—Crushed, Dakota and Morgan’s story
Book 3—Hushed, Seth and Maddie’s story
The Reckless Series
Ellie and Logan’s love story begins one hot August night. This series should be read in order.
Book 1—Reckless Longing
Book 2—Reckless Secrets
Book 3—Reckless Together
Chapter 1
"A large income is the best recipe for happiness I ever heard of."—Jane Austen, Mansfield Park, 1814
And, I might add, a complete nightmare for a matchmaker hoping to make a love match for her billionaire client.
Harte Strings, Manhattan Office
Ashley Harte
Men. Say that in whatever tone of voice you like. Right now I was thinking it with disgust and regret. The combination was a toxic emotional cocktail to say the least. I wasn't sure who I was more disgusted with—Lazer Grayson or myself. My choice flip-flopped at random.
My laptop was open on my desk. I had been going over reams of data again and again. As if it would somehow morph and change into what I wanted it to be. Surveys and data from women in my client pool, as well as from those who were in my dating pool. All of the surveys I'd had the men take during our retreat at Lazer Lodge. All of the questionnaires about what they were looking for in a prospective spouse. Their responses to my interview questions. Their key points of compatibility assessments. And my gut feelings, my matchmaker's intuition about who would be perfect for each man.
Lazer's file was open before me. Glaring at me with its condemning information. I knew who his perfect match was. On paper, anyway. But I didn't want to face it. Because reality didn't match. And it was playing hell with my confidence in myself as a matchmaker.
Lose your confidence in this biz and you've lost all. The matchmaker's job is largely confidence in her choices and reassuring and soothing her clients' insecurities and doubts. But who would calm mine? There was no one I could unburden to.
Another matchmaker would understand my dilemma. But this biz was ruthless and cutthroat. There was no way I could confide to one of my local competitors. Even my friends across the country, in markets that didn't currently compete with me, were beyond my reach and trust because of the app and the new business model we were developing. If we were successful with the app and the desire to franchise, I would be competing with matchmaking friends everywhere.
As if that wasn't reason enough, there was Lazer. I had a billionaire in my pool. He changed the dynamics of everything. Snagging a billionaire client was a dream of every matchmaker on the planet. With so few billionaires nationwide—some states didn't have a single one—and many of them already taken, it wasn't hard to see where envy and jealousy could sneak in.
I walked this lonely street of "having won the prize," wrestling with my doubts and my conscience. Should I reveal what all the data indicated? Or soldier on, keeping it to myself? Was that being dishonest or merely business savvy? Was science, in its objective, rational way, truly a good predictor of love? Could other factors overcome the data? Would I ignore all this at my own peril?
While I waffled, mired in my dark thoughts of doubt, the city outside my office was bustling in the glory of an October day. I was supposed to be selecting the final woman to add to my collection of the fifteen that I was bringing to Seattle to match with my men in just a few weeks. Hence my data dilemma.
Lazer was unhappy with the delays in the selection process. He didn't understand the complexities and delicacy of the operation. Or the difficulty in getting the right women to put their New York lives on hold for the dream, hope, and promise of a Seattle love match. The app was ready for testing. Pair Us' new offices were ready. Housing was secured. And, most importantly, the men were ready and eager.
A new facet of Lazer's personality had emerged. One I might have smiled at and called adorable under other circumstances. He worried that Seattle wouldn't show well in late October into the November rainy season. Too many gray skies and rainy days.
According to him, the weather sucked the joy out of native Seattleites who were used to it. What would it do to
complete newbies and the uninitiated? Western Washington residents were gearing up to fight their annual battle against the forces of darkness—weeks of steady rain and too few hours of daylight.
Lazer had been hoping to ease the women into Seattle. Impress them with sunny late summer days, pleasant temperatures, beautiful views, and outdoor activities before "the days of gloom," as he called them, hit. Now he was on to plan B—he'd installed light therapy lamps in the apartments, just in case. Gorgeous, high-end lights to simulate natural daylight.
I reassured him that Manhattanites were used to crappy weather and gray skies in autumn and winter. The women would be happy at the thought of not having to battle snowy streets in the not-too-distant future. Seattle didn't have snowy winters, right?
"Not usually," he'd said. "And not generally for more than a few days at a time."
Reassuring Lazer about the weather and other banal business topics were about as deep as our conversations had been since I'd last seen him in Seattle. And walked out on him after another passionate encounter over a month ago.
Maybe that was for the best. But try to convince my heart of that. It had a void in it that nothing in Manhattan had been able to fill in the month I'd been back. Packing up to head back into daily face-to-face meetings and constant contact with Lazer brought up a wealth of bittersweet emotions. I was looking forward to seeing him too much. And dreading it at the same time. The heart doesn't like to be broken. I worried mine was butting up against the point of no return, a time when it would shatter and no amount of time or repair would put it back in working condition. Would I be doomed to be a cynical matchmaker whose own heart was dead?
Having just come out of that state, the thought terrified me. I'd never thought about falling in love being an occupational hazard for a matchmaker much until now. Was there insurance for that? There should be. I could just imagine how hard my insurance agent would laugh if I brought it up to him.
Back to business. After much thought and many interviews, I had filled fourteen spots in my roster. I was cautiously confident about those fourteen. They were candidates for success—eager, adventurous, and, at least on the surface, deeply committed to finding husbands. Several of them were semi-decent possible matches for my men.
The fifteenth spot had me stymied. There was a candidate—
No. I couldn't. I just couldn't make myself choose her. There was no guarantee she'd even accept. I'd have to eat crow to get her. But maybe converting an enemy into a friend and ally would be worth it. It wouldn't be obvious to anyone but a trained matchmaking professional, but I believed she could be perfect for…one of the men—
Well, I wouldn't say who. I would barely think it. It was too outrageous. How could I even consider her after what she'd done, and her animosity toward Harte Strings and me personally? It would be like rewarding a venomous snake for striking me. Yet…
I shook my head, hoping to shake that thought right out of it.
I sighed. I had no lack of candidates without her. Seriously, that wasn't the problem at all. Exactly the opposite. There were too many. Far, far too many.
Too many eager, desperate, hopeful women ready to make the move. Unfortunately, not one of them stood out to me. No one niggled at me with more potential the rest. No one stood out by a single inch, let alone by head and shoulders. It was as if I had hit a layer of sand in my drilling. Any one of these women would do as well as the next. But none of them seemed just right.
I could have simply drawn a name and been done with it. But getting the right one was too important. I didn't want anyone who would upset the equilibrium of the project. Or bring drama and baggage into my group. I needed a standout, a superstar. Someone I felt in my heart would be the perfect match for one of my men. And to be honest, I was worried I didn't have a good enough match for several of the men.
Despite what people say and hope, you know how it goes when an opposite-sex friend gets a mate—your friendship weakens. He spends more time with his new woman and less with you. No matter how secure and nice she is, she's jealous of the time he spends with you. Which is natural enough. He becomes more and more distant.
I didn't want to lose my friendships with Lazer's friends to just anybody. Nor was I looking forward to crushing the hopes of thousands of women. Yes, thousands.
Our initial attempts to keep the selection process under wraps until we were ready to run with it and exploit it for marketing purposes had quickly exploded. Word of mouth was to blame, maybe. Too many excited women passing the news along. We finally gave up and just ran with it. And were overwhelmed with submissions. Because, of course, who didn't want a shot at dating a billionaire? Free rent for three to six months and an adventure in a new city full of eager men was a bonus, not necessarily a consolation prize.
Lottie and I had been working around the clock with my other matchmakers screening applicants and personally inviting others from our existing client base. There were times I felt weary from lack of sleep. I'd interviewed so many women that I was seeing them in my sleep, what little I got of it.
And now here I was down to the last choice. I felt like a judge on a reality talent show. So much talent, but not all of them could win. Who? Who? Who to choose?
I was stalling. Putting off the inevitable by reading about Lazer's latest escapade online. Austin texted me the link to it with the caption, Our chief publicity hound hard at work.
The caption had made me laugh.
I stared at a picture of Lazer with the Duke and Duchess of Witham and the new baby earl, the heir to the dukedom, dressed in a christening gown. Yes, Lazer was now officially the godfather to an earl. He hadn't been able to wriggle out of it after all. Judging from the photo, he looked like a good enough sport about it.
An outrageous fairytale-type castle towered in the background, reminding one of Camelot. Was Lazer a knight gallant? How thick was his armor? That was what I wanted to know.
Who still lived like a king? Or a powerful duke who could overthrow a king, in a castle as grand as if he were the monarch himself? Even most of England's current dukes couldn't afford that kind of lifestyle. Many of them were reduced to penury.
The duchess looked young and lovely. Willowy—isn't that the way all duchesses should be described? Just like the princess, the duchess already appeared to have her figure back. It had been only five weeks! Even though she was American, she looked very British in her hat and dress.
The baby was simply adorable. Round-faced, plump, and cherubic like babies should be. For this particular photo, the little earl was cradled in Lazer's arms.
To my surprise, Lazer looked like a natural holding him. There was no awkwardness, just confidence. And apparently genuine affection for the baby, maybe babies in general. Who knew with him? Lazer was grinning like the he was enjoying the spectacle. The tender way he cradled the baby gave me a lump in my throat.
The thrust of the article didn't help.
Could marriage and fatherhood be in this eligible billionaire bachelor's future?
I rolled my eyes. He was such a good faker. All this was nothing more than a fake. A business scheme. It had seemed like such a good idea in theory. But now?
I sighed. Reality was getting in the way and coming dangerously close. What would I do when Lazer started dating? Could we pull this off? Could I steel my heart and really not care? And was I teaching him a lesson or about to make him the happiest man on earth? I continued reading.
Word on the street is that Seattle billionaire, and brand-new godfather to an earl, is looking for a match. A perfect match. Looking far and wide, ladies. Across the country in Manhattan, where he's partnered with a matchmaker to bring ladies to Seattle, Asa Mercer style (which was linked to an article about Asa) for him and his eligible friends.
We spoke with Lazer Grayson at Witham House, which is clearly a gorgeous castle, as he held and showed off his new godson just after the christening.
"You look comfortable, and dashingly handsome, may I add, with a
baby in your arms. Maybe you'll be a father one day soon yourself? We hear you're in the market for a wife and looking to import candidates from New York. Aren't there enough eager women in Seattle for you?"
"For me? Maybe," the charming billionaire said with an amazing dose of humbleness when we interviewed him. "But not for the average guy. Believe it or not, Seattle is on the brink of a shortage of single, educated women. There aren't enough to go around for our high-tech male crowd. Which is why I've partnered with a matchmaker and a job recruiter to form an innovative new venture, Pair Us. Our vision…"
I skimmed the rest of the article. Lazer could give a decent interview on the spur of the moment, no matter what social event he was at. It was always business with him. I should have been glad for his obvious knack and the way he took advantage of every opportunity to promote us. But somehow I wasn't.
Lottie knocked on my office door and poked her head in. "Sorry to interrupt. Danika King is here to see you."
I was in a foul mood already. I scowled at her.
Lottie shrugged. She was used to my moods and fully aware of the badmouthing and treatment Danika had given us in the news. "She's insisting. She wants to interview you about Pair Us and your plan to bring women to Seattle. She said you haven't returned her calls."
"So she decided to ambush me in my office?" I shook my head. "Nice."
Lottie cupped her hand over her mouth. "I could shoot her for you if you want." She paused for dramatic effect as I rolled my eyes. "Short of that, I can't get rid of her. Sorry, boss."
Sorry? Right. Why didn't I fully believe her? Lottie was usually perfectly capable of getting rid of problem people. It was one of the reasons I'd hired her. If she was admitting defeat, it was only because she wanted to and thought I should hear Danika out. Probably before she went on another rant.
I sighed. "Show her in." I resigned myself to the coming unpleasantness and braced for battle.
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