"Gentlemen," Milia said. "I hope you're ready for today. I rarely close my establishment completely for an entire day for private parties, but Lazer can be quite persuasive. For his handsome friends, it's my pleasure…"
I hadn't been idle in my room last night. I'd been studying the competition, researching Milia and her spy school. Being a matchmaker was nearly as good experience-wise as being a bona fide spy when it came to finding out the dirt on people. I'd learned many tricks in my years in the biz. After all, I didn't want to accidentally let a serial killer or psycho into my match pool. Milia's social media footprint was surprisingly small. Either she was an exceedingly private person. Or she was hiding something. Whatever the case, as I'd suspected, she wasn't French, though maybe she had some French ancestry way back when. She was a good old American with a boring past. A woman who liked the glamour of playing at being a spy.
Her website was deliciously fabulous and enticing. Even I, who wasn't her biggest fan, wanted to try her spy school experience and be a Bond girl for a day. Or forever. A Bond girl would have no quibbles with sleeping with Lazer just for fun, because she'd never want commitment. Commitment was dangerous business for a spy. Too bad. As a matchmaker, commitment was my business. My one and all.
According to Milia's website, which I had to admit was exactly the kind of site you'd expect from a spy school, complete with smoking lipstick gun, the Lipstick Spy School was located in a fashionable area of downtown along Fifth Avenue, nestled among the pricey shops and boutiques. Even its exterior was classy and intriguing, with a subtle sign announcing it was the place to go for glamour and intrigue.
It was a highly feminine establishment—a spa, a beauty retreat, an adventure-vacation destination. With prices for its services from just barely affordable to Swallow hard and just hand over your credit card. Lazer must have been paying a wad of cash to get the place all to ourselves for a day.
As the name suggested, women went to it to be pampered and, if they chose, to pretend to be spies. They learned how to dress like femmes fatales. How to mix the perfect drinks. Self-defense skills. How to dance exotic dances. Not surprisingly, it was a popular destination for bachelorette parties. Or simply a day of pampering. If you wanted, you could simply slip in for a facial or a blow dry. If Milia had geared a day toward men, it was a great way to further the team bonding. Absolutely brilliant.
These men were geeky guys who weren't into fashion or style or spa experiences. They were nervous about even the thought of it and not eager to reimagine themselves. But they were into cosplay. And game for about anything in that realm. Playing at being James Bond? A dream, a fantasy, something to write home about.
Damn, I had to give Milia and Lazer credit where it was due. They were leading the men to hot new images and tricking them into becoming stylish, smooth, sophisticated dating machines.
I glanced at Lazer, suddenly cutting him some slack. Maybe he had been genuine about the spy school being a surprise for the men and me. Maybe it had been a generous gift rather than a blindside and power play.
I leaned into Lazer and whispered in his ear as Milia continued talking and getting the men excited about their spa day ahead. "Thank you. I actually agree with Milia. And you. The spy school is perfect for the last day of our retreat. Brilliant, actually. You know your friends well. They're going to love playing spy for a day."
He looked genuinely relieved and grateful. And surprised by my turnaround. It surprised me to think that maybe this playboy was just as confounded by women, meaning me, as any everyday man. And embarrassed that I'd assigned evil intent to his motives.
He smiled. "Thank you." The set of his shoulders relaxed. "How was your swim last night? A little cold for a dip, wasn't it?"
I shrugged. "Maybe I'm training for the polar bear club?"
He laughed. "If so, you should try one of the mountain streams. My pool's heated." He studied me. "I wouldn't think you'd need much training. I believe you already have ice in your veins." His tone was teasing.
"I'll take that as a compliment."
He nodded. "Good. I meant it as a compliment." He paused. "Next time you go for a late night dip in my pool, feel free to turn on the lights."
I laughed. "I like swimming in the dark. I wouldn't want to scare away the bats."
"If you insist," he said. "Haven't you heard of the buddy system? It's not safe to swim alone. Call me. I'll be your buddy anytime."
I opened my mouth to reply and jumped as I felt a hand on my shoulder.
Milia had come up behind us and now stood with a hand clasped on each of us. "Lazer. Ashley?" She leaned her head between ours. "You two are off in your own world. That's the helicopter. The men are heading out. Are you ready to go?"
I'd been so engrossed in flirting with Lazer I hadn't even heard it until Milia called it out. Blocking out the world like that was something that had only ever happened between Ruck and me. Or when I was engrossed in a good book. I hadn't even been aware that was what I'd been doing. It hadn't been one of those obvious There are only us moments when you know you're doing it. From the look on Lazer's face, he'd been caught up in it too, and was just as surprised as I was. This wasn't good for me. Not at all.
Lazer nodded. "To head to a spy adventure? Are you kidding? Try to hold me back." His mood had certainly improved.
Milia smiled and wormed her way between us, looping one arm through mine and the other through Lazer's. "Excellent, my darling. What a day I have planned for all of you." As she inclined her head toward me, I caught a whiff of her perfume and felt the firmness of her toned arm and confidence. She exuded such sensuality, how could any straight man resist her? "You and I are going to have such fun with these guys," she whispered, and squeezed my arm with hers.
Going with the spy theme, I wondered whether I could trust her. Or was this simply a very good act on her part? In any case, it was hard, even for me, to resist her charm as we walked arm in arm, a trio of friends.
We moved as a group out to the helipad. Our group of eight was an awkward size for the small helicopters Lazer employed. Each only seated a maximum of six passengers. We required two helicopters to do the job. The men took one. Lazer, Milia, Lottie, and I piled into the other. Lazer played tour guide, pointing out familiar sights between Milia briefing Lottie and me on what was in store: a morning fitness lesson with a personal trainer while we inspected the troops, hair and beard makeovers, appointments with a personal shopper and stylist, practice picking up a girl, and a grand finale dinner. The more I heard, the more I liked.
Limos met us at the airport. A little over an hour after leaving the lodge, they pulled into an alley behind Fifth Avenue and some distance away from the back of the building I'd seen on the web.
"You're taking us in the employees' entrance?" Lazer sounded excited when he should have sounded upset or insulted.
I didn't get it.
Milia laughed and gave him a knowing smile. "I'm taking you in the top-secret entrance."
"The phone booth?" His eyes lit up.
She grinned back at him. Austin had hurried out of his limo and got the door to the limo before the driver could.
Milia stepped out of the limo, one long leg at a time, as Austin gave her a hand out. "Let the adventure begin!"
She walked to a red phone booth, the old-fashioned kind you might see in London at one time. She unlocked it with a key, pushed the door open, and invited us to squeeze as many in as we could. "Don't worry! Everyone will get a turn. We'll make several trips."
Lazer and I squeezed in first with her. Milia picked up a red phone, carried on a completely normal-sounding conversation that must have been in code with the person on the other end. Suddenly the booth turned into an elevator that fell below the surface of the street into a polished underground corridor.
"The guests love this part." She pointed to a series of steel doors. "That way. You'll need instructions and the code to open them."
She handed Lazer a keycard like hotels use, c
upped her hand, and whispered something in his ear. "Follow my instructions and you'll be fine. I'll meet you at the school."
Lazer nodded and grabbed my hand. "Let's go."
Chapter 4
Ashley
I was known for my vivid imagination, but somehow I had never imagined running hand in hand with James Bond down a high-tech, gleaming underground corridor. Or with a real-life billionaire. I wasn't even exactly sure why were running, just that it was thrilling. Mostly to have my hand in his.
When we reached the first door, Lazer stopped abruptly, squeezed my hand, inserted the keycard, typed a code in, and the door swung open. He extended his arm, indicating I should walk through. "Ladies first."
"How horribly ungentlemanly," I said. "If there's an assassin waiting for us on the other side, I'm the one who's going to be gunned down. Bond would go first, dragging the Bond girl by the hand after him."
He laughed. "My mistake." He peeked dramatically around the door, as if he was expecting a terrorist to take a potshot at us or hurl a grenade our way.
I grinned, holding in a laugh. I couldn't help it. I was enjoying myself. Being with Lazer almost always offered something new and thrilling. I realized that although he was very much a man in every regard, he was a boy at heart, with all the roguish sense of fun and adventure that life usually pounds out of us. I also realized he loved surprises. At least, he loved to surprise people.
"I haven't drawn gunfire yet, Double-o fourteen," he said in a mock British accent. "I think we're safe." He led me in by the hand, pausing just inside as the door slid closed behind us.
"Double-o fourteen?" I gave him a puzzled look.
"The Bond franchise should be up to at a double-o fourteen agent by now. Besides, it's my favorite number." He winked and sent my heart skittering.
I shook my head. He was such a practiced charmer, all the way to making me an equal agent, not just a sidekick. Watching him flirt was a joyful spectator sport for a matchmaker like me. Being the recipient of his attention was better still. He instinctively knew what to say to melt a girl's heart. His quip was almost too obvious, yet perfectly delivered. Flirtation and charm were all in the execution, and Lazer had the timing and manner of delivery down to perfection.
He looked around and whistled softly, admiring the sleek underground tunnel. "I advised Milia and helped her with the contractors when she was building this. I've seen the blueprints, but this is much more impressive in person." He shook his head, his eyes wide. "I thought she was crazy spending the cash to build this, but damn, this is brilliant. Even if it is a waste of money."
I nodded, surprised that he even thought about wasting money with all he had. "You haven't seen it before?"
He shook his head. "It was just finished last week."
"Oh." I couldn't keep either the awe or the insecurity out of my voice.
So we were among the first to see it. Guests of honor. That damn jealousy popped up again uninvited. Of course she would show it to Lazer. He helped her with it. It's only polite.
Sadly, my inner voice wasn't as reassuring as it should have been. I realized that the tunnel smelled new and the stainless steel walls were mirrorlike in their clean newness.
Lazer was still looking around and marveling. "Milia had to jump through a pile of red tape to get the permits to build it. She's done a fantastic job of making it feel like a scene from an espionage movie."
I was overwhelmed by the theatrical entrance to the spy school, which was reminiscent of Get Smart.
Lazer led me to the second door. And the third. We were in and at the entrance of an ordinary-looking elevator. The doors opened. We stepped in. Lazer pushed a button for the lobby. The arrow on the elevator only pointed up.
"We have to go up now?" I said. "Seems a bit of a waste. Down. Back up again. We couldn't have just walked in at street level?"
He lifted a brow. "No sense of fun. It's the experience. Like an amusement park ride."
The elevator doors opened again at the lobby. Inside, the spy school was lightly perfumed with something musky and sensual, and elegantly, tastefully decorated to appeal to the kind of woman who imagined herself a Bond girl. Or was just up for an adventure.
The floors were shiny black tile, accented with the occasional red accent tile. Vases of red flowers of different varieties sat on the reception desk with its gorgeous black and white granite countertop. Oversize planters filled with trees and shrubs carved into intricate and whimsical shapes, such as lipstick cases, stood near the front desk and the groupings of seating and the front door. The ambience was pure fantasy.
The receptionist, a beautiful girl in a tight, low-cut red dress, greeted us. "Welcome to Lipstick, Mr. Grayson! Miss Harte. I'm Weston, Milia's assistant. She asked me to direct you upstairs to the gym. Stryker, the personal trainer you requested, is waiting for you, sir." She gave us directions and the passcode to the elevator.
When the elevator doors closed behind us, I turned to Lazer. "This is the personal trainer we talked about?"
He nodded. "One and the same. The best in the city. The one who made whipped me into the shape needed to be Seattle's hottest bachelor." He laughed.
"I hope he's not going to push the men too hard. The point isn't to shoot for the perfect body image or to be totally ripped. Women prefer men who are in at least decent shape. But being too hung up on a perfect body can seem narcissistic."
"Are you saying I'm a narcissist?"
"I—"
"We want Pair Us to be successful," he said with a laugh. "We need women falling all over our boys."
I couldn't disagree with his intent. I nodded as the elevator doors opened and followed him to the gym.
Stryker greeted us, looking pretty much like his name—a guy who could train secret agents how to kill with their bare hands and make a weakling into a ripped, fit, turn-your-head-when-he-passed-by guy. He wore a black tank top and fitness pants that showed off his perfect physique. It was hard not to drool.
He greeted Lazer, who introduced me. He handed Lazer a T-shirt and a pair of exercise shorts. "Glad you'll be joining us today." Stryker turned to me. "How about you?"
"I'm just observing," I said with a smile, thinking how delicious observing would be. "And sure that I'll be loving it."
"My, my, my. Who do we have here?" Milia's voice startled me.
I turned over my shoulder to watch as she walked into the gym with the men trailing her. She looked at Stryker like she wanted to devour him whole, in the entirely objectifying, but totally flattering way of a woman who knew how to flirt.
To my relief, Lazer seemed unaffected by her obvious fawning over Stryker. No jealousy? That was vaguely reassuring.
Lazer made the introductions and handed each of the men an athletic bag filled with gear.
Milia pointed them toward a locker room to change.
Stryker clapped his hands in that way coaches have of getting their players to hustle. "Hurry back, men. We have work to do."
"What kind of a workout do you have planned?" I asked as I watched the men go.
"Just a basic workout, one that they'll need to do every other day for the first few weeks. Then I'll show them the off-day routine." He was watching the men leave with an appraising eye. "Lazer has enrolled them in my gym. They'll be meeting with me twice a week so I can evaluate their progress and tweak their routines.
"He also asked me to run with the spy school theme, so I'll show them some self-defense moves I learned in the military. Things spies might have to know to protect themselves if they're ever caught. Just enough to get them in the role-playing frame of mind. Lazer says his friends love that kind of thing.
"The real goal is to get them started on the first set in their new daily exercise regimen. And evaluate their shortcomings physically. If they follow my instructions and work hard, I'll sculpt them into great shape. They'll have the best version of their personal physiques."
Milia leaned in and spoke confidentially. "While they're out
here in their shorts, our personal shoppers will get a chance to see what they have to work with."
As if on cue, two fashionably dressed twentysomething women strolled through the doors of the gym and waved at Milia. She waved back. "Ah, there they are now!"
She introduced me to Paige and Erica.
The one named Erica extended her hand for me to shake. "Our boss, Justin Green from Flashionista, sent us over. He and Lazer are great friends."
Paige nodded. "And always cross-promoting each other's businesses." She laughed and turned to Erica. "This job just keeps getting better and better. When we hired on as merch buyers, we had no idea we'd get so many fun pet projects."
Erica nodded. "I know! I think we should have our own show. We're becoming Seattle's what-to-wear team." She smiled at me. "We dressed the new Duchess of Witham and her sister for Riggins, our other boss. Completely outfitted them from head to toe for a whole season." She laughed. "Wow! That sounds old-fashioned. Like she was heading to London for a season with the ton."
I smiled. Yes, I'd read Jane Austen and a Regency romance or two. "Are you as good with men's fashion as with a duchess'?" I said, lightly but seriously. I'd had to rely on Lazer's recommendation for these two. And he'd been swayed by his friendship with Justin Green.
Paige shrugged. "We're both buyers for our online men's fashion department as well as women's fashions. We regularly feature up-and-coming designers and boutique fashion for men, as well as the more standard stuff for regular guys. We travel to New York, Paris, London, and Milan. We have our fingers on the pulse of men's fashion and trends. We know what men will be wearing before they do."
"And we like men and know what we like to see men in," Erica said, nodding. "Trust us. We have the eye."
I liked Erica immediately. She got it. They both did.
"That's good enough for me." I tell my female clients to go shopping with a straight male friend. Not your girlfriend. Not a gay friend, even if he has an extraordinary eye and sense of style. Better to take your ordinary guy straight friend, because he will tell you what straight men find attractive. Straight men are your game, not gay ones. Dress to please them. Who better to advise you than one of them?
Pair Us: A Jet City Billionaire Romance (The Billionaire Matchmaker Series Book 3) Page 4