Pair Us: A Jet City Billionaire Romance (The Billionaire Matchmaker Series Book 3)

by Gina Robinson

  "Milia isn't going to make this easy on you, Jeremy," I said to my pupil. "I want you men so prepared and confident that you can tackle any situation with aplomb and complete confidence."

  He nodded.

  "Lottie, atmosphere, please." I pointed to her.

  She nodded and dimmed the lights, turned on some music, loud, put a prerecorded game on the overhead TV, and clinked glasses around behind the bar, putting on a bored expression that cracked the men up.

  I put myself back in the mood of that first time in the bar where I met Lazer, and looked around the room at my much-improved clients. They were each handsome in their own way. I had no doubt that there was a woman out there who was perfect for each of them. All we had to do was find her. I didn't have any doubts that we would. But how long did we have? The pressure to make Pair Us an immediate success weighed heavily on me.

  Milia swiveled toward the bar, keeping her back to the men as she pretended to study her pink drink and occasionally glance at the TV, and then quickly at Jeremy. She smiled shyly at him and returned to her examination of her drink.

  Jeremy stood mutely in place. He shook his head. "You want me to make a cold hit?" he said helplessly. "How am I supposed to know she's interested? She looks like she wants to be left alone."

  "Don't tell me you missed it," I said. "She's sitting alone at the bar in a room full of men. She smiled at you. You. It was subtle, but that was her come-on. She's alone at the bar and she gave you her particular attention." I gave him a gentle shove. "Remember what I taught you earlier and make a move."

  He took a deep breath and went to the bar, where he asked Lottie to send Milia another of whatever she was drinking.

  I mentally slapped my forehead. I'm not a fan of the cold send-a-drink-move. It takes skill to pull off that many amateurs simply don't have. Suaveness. Savoir-faire. Confidence that a man like Jeremy didn't possess yet. This was his chickening-out move. Better to let the drink speak for him than himself.

  I hadn't coached him to do this. In fact, I recommend against this move. For many women, myself included, having a drink arrive uninvited makes me feel awkward and obligated to the sender in some small way. I personally don't like to accept drinks from men I'm not interested in. And I feel like I shouldn't be obligated to talk to anyone I don't want to on my night out. And that damn drink is an obligation.

  If you send a drink to a person who doesn't find you attractive. Or if you send them a drink they don't like. Or they've already had their limit and don't want another drink. Or are any number of other things, it can be extremely awkward.

  And what if you succeed and they find you attractive, but the moment they open their mouth, they turn you off? And you've just made this ballsy move of sending them a drink?

  No, better, much better, in my opinion, to strike up a conversation with them first. See close up if there's mutual interest, and then, and only then, offer to buy them a drink.

  But, given the circumstance, I held my breath to see how Jeremy would handle it next. Lottie set the drink in front of Milia, subtly pointing to Jeremy as the sender. Just at that moment, Jeremy looked away, leaving his mark confused. He should have been ready with a wink and a smile. Or maybe a friendly lift of the drink in his hand.

  I did a mental head thunk and glanced over at Lazer, who sighed heavily.

  I made a T with my hands. "Timeout!" I went over to Jeremy. "Jeremy, sweetie, that was terribly gutsy of you to send that drink to Milia."

  The guys guffawed.

  "Silence from the peanut gallery. Listen up, men, and learn a thing or two." I smiled, pointed an accusing finger at them, and returned my attention to Jeremy. "I'm not kidding. It really was. But here's the thing—you don't know anything about her. She could be a complete witch. She could be waiting for her date to show up. So she gave you a cue. Maybe she's an unabashed flirt. Maybe she likes trouble.

  "That's a longwinded way of saying that sending a drink uninvited can be dangerous business. It's better to approach a woman you're interested in and find out a bit about her before offering to buy her a drink. But, once you've gone for gold and done it, you have to be ready to acknowledge you're the sender and respond to her positive signal. Or her negative one. In this case, Milia signaled her appreciation, but you glanced away as if you were dissing her."

  "I'm sorry." He grinned sheepishly. "I panicked."

  I put a hand on his shoulder. "I know. But there's no reason to. You're a hot, eligible, nice guy. Let's start from where you should have been if you'd responded properly to her about the drink and go from there." I positioned him next to Milia as if he'd correctly handled the situation. "Go."

  "Hi," he said.

  "Hi," Milia said in a shy voice.

  And there they were then, staring mutely at each other. Milia wasn't helping him one tiny bit. Good woman, I thought. She didn't break character.

  I motioned to Jeremy to use one of the conversation icebreakers we'd rehearsed. He shrugged helplessly, looking as if he'd forgotten his opening line to an important presentation, and stuttered, "Th-the weather's nice."

  I called another timeout. "It's all right. It's okay. Nice try, but I think you can do better. Why don't we have one of the other men try while you observe and work on your conversation starter? We'll come back to you."

  Jeremy looked relieved as he smiled good-naturedly and joined his gang again.

  Dylan was up next. His turn was a disaster in the opposite direction. It was as if he was using a sledgehammer to knock his conversation out, swinging indiscriminately no matter what clues Milia was giving him, and trying way too hard. So hard that he would have scared any woman short of Milia off. She was a trooper, though, staying in character and trying to guide him in the right direction. He just kept missing the signals.

  "Timeout!" Lazer signaled. "I think we need a good example here. Guys, it's not that hard." He looked at me and took my hand, leading me to the bar. "Let's show them how it's done."

  Milia nodded and slid off her barstool. "Please do. I can't stand much more of this pink drink."

  What had Lottie put in it? A ton of bitters? She knew how to make fabulous cocktails. Any failing was intentional.

  I took Milia's place, wondering what Lazer was up to. He looked too happy with himself as he walked across the room and out the door.

  "I scared him off already!" I winked at the men, who laughed with me just as Lazer strolled back through the door.

  I watched as he scanned the room and spotted me. I picked up a fresh glass of some drink that Lottie had placed in front of me, and met his bold gaze, smiling and looking away. My heart raced. The way he looked at a woman, like she was the prey and he was the warrior, was deeply thrilling in a primitive way.

  He paused on his way across the room to joke with his buddies, making me wait, building the anticipation of his approach. I was hyperaware of him as he finally approached the bar.

  "Excuse me. Is this seat taken?" His voice was deep, and rich with flirtation. As if taking the seat next to me would be a great honor and pleasure.

  I returned his smile, feeling the pressure to flirt as effectively as possible as a good example to the men. And selfishly wanting to tempt Lazer. Flirting with him was fun sport. "If you want it, it's yours. Or are you securing it for your date?"

  He smiled radiantly. "No, selfishly I'd planned to take it for myself. I'm dateless tonight. And shamelessly single."

  "Are you?" I laughed. "Shamelessly?"

  He grinned. "There's no shame in being single, is there?" He took the seat and signaled to Lottie for a drink. "I'll have a beer."

  He returned his attention to me as Lottie set a beer in front of him. "Can I ask you something?"

  "Sure."

  "If I hadn't come along to fill this chair, given the choice of anyone in the world, whom would you want to be sitting next to you right now, your guest for the evening?"

  My eyes went wide. I recognized this question. It was a variation on part of a "sharing ga
me" that relationship experts used to build intimacy between two people who'd just met. The goal of the game was to get a relationship to the next level inside an hour. The inventors of the game contended they could make two total strangers feel closer to each other than they did to longtime friends. The set of questions was a shortcut to intimacy, and Lazer was using it as a come-on.

  Oh, Lazer was good. I was sure it was completely intentional. I smiled seductively back at him, wondering whether I should shut him down or set him up. Unfortunately, he had me over a barrel. We were supposed to be setting an example of effective flirting.

  "What kind of a question is that?" I said.

  He shrugged and leaned closer to me, sending my pulse racing off the rails. "A deep one." He grinned lopsidedly.

  I smiled into his eyes and laughed. I shook my head, refusing to answer.

  "So?"

  I named the hottest actor I could think of, one who was dark and handsome, hoping to throw Lazer off balance, and keep the conversation superficial.

  Instead, he was silent a moment, making a show of considering. "Interesting. Why?"

  "Isn't it obvious?" I stared at him innocently, wondering if he'd take the bait and talk movies with me.

  There have been studies done that prove talking about movies isn't good first date, or in this case, first encounter, conversation. Only nine percent of first dates where the couples talk about movies convert into a second date.

  "Sorry to disappoint," he said in the manner of a man who is confident in himself. And yet, in an endearing attempt at humility.

  "Who says I'm disappointed?"

  "You mean given the choice between an empty chair and me, I'm an improvement?"

  I laughed. "Definitely."

  His answering expression was positively heart stopping. Suddenly I was the one who wanted to rip his clothes off. Not that there was anything new in that. There was something magnetic about him that I'd felt from the first.

  Lazer scooted closer to me. "You have a beautiful voice." The compliment sounded so sincere, I was taken by surprise.

  Beautiful voice? That was a new one. Much less superficial and obvious than telling me I was beautiful. More personal. More thoughtful. Less threatening. Still thrilling.

  "Thank you," I said, wondering where he would take this.

  He leaned into me. "Do you sing?" He looked at me with genuine appearing curiosity.

  "Me? No." I laughed, nervously, giddy with his nearness, soaking in his interest.

  "Come on," he said in a coaxing tone. "Not even to yourself?"

  "Well…" I looked into my drink, trying to hide my embarrassment and seem mysterious.

  "I bet you sing when you're happy. I bet you sing along to the radio in the car."

  I glanced up at him. He wasn't going to let me stall. He wasn't going to give up.

  "When was the last time you sang to yourself?" He looked at me earnestly.

  The honesty of his expression startled me. "What?"

  He was devious. That was another question on the intimacy-building list.

  "Singing to yourself is no crime. You should be happy. You should sing to yourself. All the time." He paused, studying me with such intensity I felt like I was the only one in the room.

  One of the men shuffled, bringing me back to the reality of what we were doing—demonstrating effective conversation and flirting. I imagined the group of them leaning in, too, to hear better.

  "When was the last time you sang to anyone?" Lazer said, still wearing that intimate, curious, interested expression.

  My mouth went dry. When was the last time?

  He was right. I sang when I was happy. I sang to people only when I trusted them and felt close to them. And loved them. Because I was the kind of person who was shy about singing and mouthed the words to Happy Birthday when I could get away with it.

  There had been a time when I imagined myself singing lullabies to my babies. I sang to Ruck regularly. But the last time I remembered…

  Holding Ruck's hand as he slipped away from me and this world. Singing so softly only he could hear. Tears streaming down my face. I swallowed hard.

  My face must have showed my distress. Lazer's expression became serious. When I looked into his eyes I realized he saw the truth.

  He took my hand and squeezed it. "I'm sorry."

  I swallowed hard again, thinking I would like to sing to someone again. Thinking how much I missed it and hadn't even realized until now.

  Lazer's hand was warm and reassuring. I felt the absence when he let go.

  How did we recover the fun now? How would he recapture the flirt? And had the men seen the minefield even a simple question could put them in?

  It was as if the entire room held its breath.

  Lazer smiled and whispered. "It's time to get back up on the horse. Time to make a happy memory. It's a shame to silence your voice."

  He pointed toward the karaoke machine. "I haven't sung to anyone in a long time, either. What do you say we start again now?" His voice was full of enthusiasm and encouragement. "Join me and serenade this crowd."

  I froze. I didn't sing in front of anyone.

  "I promise to sing loudly and badly. To drown you out if you falter or get nervous. And to take full credit for any damage done to anyone's eardrums." He was still smiling. His voice was almost tender.

  How had he done that? Swung the situation around? Made me feel so close to him that I was tempted to try to sing again?

  I fought the urge and shook my head, even though I was dying to hear him sing and make a fool of himself. "Another time, maybe."

  He shrugged. "I'll hold you to it." He paused again, looking like he was working up to something big. "Can I ask you something else?"

  I nodded. "Sure."

  "You don't look like you're enjoying your drink much. Do you like the taste of beer?" His eyes twinkled with devilment. "Because I'd love to buy you one."

  I nearly sputtered. My eyes flew wide open as they met his, which danced with invitation. Between two experienced dating experts, this was a serious come-on, tantamount to asking me to sleep with him.

  Crap. I knew that question. And I knew he knew exactly what he was doing and asking. Gauging his chances of success for getting lucky.

  In another study, researchers found that there was one question, and only one, whose answer indicated how likely a person was to have sex on a first date or encounter. That question—do you like the taste of beer? Beer lovers are sixty percent more likely to be okay with sleeping with someone they just met.

  "You're incorrigible," I said, shaking my head to let him know I knew what he was up to. "I can't believe you don't know the answer to that." I put my face next to his until our lips were just inches apart. "I love beer. Adore it. Especially on warm summer days. Or brisk fall afternoons. But not tonight. Not now."

  He shrugged. "It was worth a try. I'd still like to buy you a drink. What can I get you?"

  Chapter 6

  Ashley

  I nodded and lifted my glass. "I'd love another drink. Another of these."

  Lazer slapped the bar, cleverly masking his disappointment. "And that, gentlemen, is how it's done."

  The men looked at each other, clearly confused about what had just happened.

  Austin stepped forward. "What was all that about the beer, Lazer? What's wrong with you that you didn't know the answer?" He got a crooked smile on his face. "You should have asked me. I knew she loves beer." He winked at me.

  Lazer got that look on his face that warned he was about to fire back.

  I shot him a warning look. If he spilled that bit of intel about the beer question here at the spy school during my flirting session, I was going to have to kill him. I was trying to keep the men from sleeping with anyone on the first date. My steely stare stopped him.

  Lazer turned to the men and shrugged. "My deal breaker." He grinned and looked at me sideways. "I can't be with a woman who doesn't like beer. I was using the opportunity to fin
d out. And see how receptive she was to buying her a drink, and what kind of drink to buy her."

  Austin's eyes narrowed. "Beer. Your deal breaker? You are so full of shit. Not sleeping with you, I'd believe that."

  "Me too." Dylan came up behind Austin and clapped a shoulder on his back. "Nice flirting, man. Glad you learned something since college, Lazer."

  "You mean he wasn't always an accomplished flirt?" I knew the story of Lazer's ill-fated marriage proposal, of course. But had he been as awful and awkward at the bar and on the dating scene? I mean, that proposal was pretty bad.

  The four men laughed in unison.

  "The stories we could tell—" Cam said.

  "But won't." Lazer rolled his eyes. "Seduction is an acquired talent."

  He'd just given me an opening. "If Lazer can acquire it," I said, "you, men, who are such quick studies, should have no problems picking it up quickly." I smiled sweetly at them before shooting a sidelong look at Lazer. "Practice while I'm in New York so you're ready when I bring your potential brides back with me."

  For some reason, that had a sobering effect on the men.

  All that was left of our retreat was dinner, which flew by in a haze of ribbing, teasing, business talk, and fun. Milia joined us. The way she continued to look at Lazer worried me. It wasn't easy to contain my jealousy. She was here, convenient and willing. And I would be in Manhattan looking at client profiles for matches for four men who had stolen my heart. And one man who…

  What was I going to do for or with Lazer? I wanted him. There was no doubt about that. The jealous way I felt was a clear indication of my feelings. Yet, for the sake of our business success, I had to match him. I still hadn't decided how or what kind of lesson I was going to teach him. If any lesson at all.

  The match game I was thinking of playing could have dire consequences for my professional and personal reputation. I was like a pollster. Too far out from any election or event, they could be off on their predictions. But as an election got close, their professional reputations depended on how accurate they were when the results came in.

  On a first date or match or two, I could match Lazer with some beautiful women who only appeared to be compatible with him. But as time wore on, I'd have to show my matchmaking prowess or risk losing potential clients.