Harte Strings: The Billionaire Matchmaker, Part Two

by Gina Robinson

  “No one deserves all this,” she said automatically. “And I have no idea. You sure can’t throw Miss Communication at him. That’s one almost-client who definitely does not deserve anything approaching this kind of luxury. Or Mr. Three Commas.”

  She was clearly fiercely protective of Lazer. Which was odd, given his field-playing reputation. Lottie usually maintained professional distance from the clients. She was human, as was I. There were some we liked better than others. Some we barely tolerated. As we had become more successful, we tried to avoid assholes. Perk of success.

  She rooted for all of our clients to find true love and happiness. And was as happy as anyone any time one of our matches stuck. But I could only remember a handful of times she’d gone mama bear on me about a client. It was a testimony to Lazer’s charm that he’d won her over so readily.

  I glanced at my watch. “Time to go. Lazer’s expecting us.”

  We found him working at a table by the pool with his laptop and phone. There was that moment when I pictured myself in this life. Permanently. Lounging by this pool in the summer, working side by side with him.

  And then I realized I was as bad as any gold digger. I barely knew Lazer, really. I was letting his wealth impress me. That was what I told myself, anyway. Being swayed by riches seemed more human and less unfaithful to Ruck than being tempted by lust.

  Lazer stood and greeted us, offering us each a seat and a drink. “I have everything. Beer. Wine. Mixed drinks. Whatever you like. I make a mean lavender martini.”

  Although he’d been drinking a beer.

  “A lavender martini? I’ve never had one,” I said, amused, as I took a seat facing the view. “I’m sure your guy friends love lavender martinis.”

  “Why would I make one for the guys? They can wait on themselves. I reserve my martini-making skills to impress the ladies.” He grinned at Lottie. “The lavender martini is my secret weapon. I paid a top mixologist to develop it for me.” He tapped his forehead. “I committed the recipe to memory and destroyed the original.”

  “How very Bond.” I smiled with him. “Did you wipe the mixologist’s memory clear, too?”

  “I paid him a king’s ransom and made his sign a nondisclosure. Memory erasure might have been better. Why didn’t I think of that?”

  Damn. I liked him.

  “Just for you, because you’re bound by a nondisclosure, too, I’ll let you in on part of the secret.” He grinned. “I infuse them with dried lavender imported from a special supplier in France. The fresh lavender sprigs I use as decoration are grown locally at an herb farm and delivered daily when I need it.” He flashed a flirty smile at Lottie.

  “Then by all means, I’m game. I can hardly wait to taste this beautiful drink,” I said as calmly as possible, trying to sound tolerant of his folly. Appraising his efforts as a master does a student’s.

  Whether he liked it or not, I was taking his measure, doing my matchmaking evaluation on him at every turn. He was good at casual banter. And making a woman, or women, feel special. Letting them know the lengths he’d gone to for them without bragging. It was an art. And he excelled at it.

  While it was true I’d never had a client as suave as he was—daters of his caliber usually didn’t need my services—I was certain there were areas he could improve on. I just had to find them.

  Lottie returned his smile. “French lavender. How could I resist?”

  There was a fully stocked bar near the pool. Lazer obviously knew his way around it. We watched as he made the drinks, making a great show of measuring and shaking.

  Really, he was fun to watch, a total ham and showman. And he had a great ass that matched his broad shoulders as well. He dipped the rims of the martini glasses in lavender sugar, added a spoonful of round French lavender candies to the drink, and poured the drinks with flair as he strained out the dried lavender. He stuck a fragrant sprig of fresh lavender, and something else in, as a final touch. He put the eye-pleasing drinks on a tray and sauntered back to us with the air of a waiter. He set a small glass plate with a martini, a small napkin, and a beautiful chocolate in front of each of us.

  “They’re subtle,” he said as I lifted my glass. “Don’t let that fool you. They pack a punch.”

  I studied my drink. The something else turned out to be a purple pansy that floated on top. “They’re beautiful. A real work of art. Too pretty for such a simple name. You need something more seductive.”

  “I’ll get my naming firm working on that right away.”

  I took a sip. Heaven. “This is ambrosia! You do know how to make a drink. Your mixologist taught you well. The question is—are you a one-drink wonder?”

  He laughed. “Hardly. I went to bartending school.” He pointed to the square of chocolate on my plate. “Try a square of rose and cardamom chocolate with it. It’s the perfect pairing. All the floral flavors of an English garden together.”

  The squares of chocolate were just as beautiful as the drinks—covered with candied cardamom and dried sugared rose petals pressed into decadent milk chocolate.

  “Is this a garden party, then?” I looked around.

  His eyes twinkled. “If you want it to be. I heard women like flowers and chocolate.”

  “Do we?” I teased.

  Lottie had gone suddenly quiet. She watched us closely. We were clearly flirting.

  Fortunately, her phone rang. She frowned as if she’d been interrupted in the middle of a good show, grabbed it, and looked at the screen. “Eh. My sister! She always calls at the least convenient times. She’ll want to talk.”

  She shot us an apologetic look and took the call and her drink back into the lodge.

  “Did you plan that, too?” I asked, referring to Lottie’s departure.

  “You give me too much credit.”

  I shook my head and sighed happily, looking down the length of the pool as I sipped my drink. “The pool looks like it disappears into the horizon. Like you could swim off the edge into the sky and mountains.”

  He nodded. “It’s a trick of the eye and design.”

  “I like it. It’s like you can see forever from here,” I said.

  He gave me a quick, intense look.

  “What?”

  “That’s how I feel, too,” he said.

  “Doesn’t everyone?” I asked, surprised by his surprise.

  “No,” he said. “You’d be surprised. You’re the first to make that comment.”

  I frowned slightly, puzzled. It seemed like the obvious thought. “Clearly, you don’t hang with deep enough people.”

  He laughed. “Good point. You’re probably right.”

  “Tell me about this place,” I said. “Do you entertain here often? Just from the brief glimpse I got of it, it looks like its set up for events like this one.”

  He nodded. “I like to entertain. I hold half a dozen meetings and corporate retreats a year here, sometimes more. That way I can write it off.”

  “It’s impressive,” I said.

  “Thank you. It’s meant to be.” He looked endearingly sheepish. “Sorry. That sounded arrogant. I meant to say that it’s expected of people of my social status to show off our wealth. It gives other businesspeople confidence in our abilities. Our equivalent of a résumé. I’ve held several meetings of my billionaires’ club, EIEIO, here as well. Those people are used to being pampered.”

  “A billionaires’ club? Like the Bohemian Grove?” As he’d suggested, I took a square of chocolate and nibbled at it. The flavors of cardamom and rose combined pleasantly. I resisted rolling my eyes in delight. “Do you sit around and plot the one-world government? And how to manipulate all the world markets and make yourselves not just billionaires, but gazillionaires?”

  He laughed. “Hardly. And neither do the guys at the Bohemian Grove, from what I hear. It’s mostly a big beer party. A lot of tall tales and pissing.”

  I shook my head and took another sip of my drink. “I don’t believe you.”

  “You should.
I have it on good authority from several members.”

  “Are you bragging?” I pointed my chocolate at him. “This is delicious. Where’s it from?”

  “Portland. Originally. I buy it locally at the Blackberry Bakery.”

  “The Blackberry Bakery?” I furrowed my brow. The name rang a bell, but I couldn’t immediately place it. “Why do I know that name? It sounds familiar.”

  Lazer grinned at me as he took a swig of his beer. “It’s been in the news this year. Riggins, the Duke of Witham, met Haley, his duchess, there. She was working at the bakery when they met and fell in love. That’s the public version of their story, anyway.”

  “That’s it!” I said. “I keep forgetting you know the duke and duchess. Weren’t they expecting a baby? Has it been born yet?”

  He sighed. “They are. And the little heir is due, funnily enough, over Labor Day Weekend.”

  “That’s right,” I said. “I remember now. They had a big gender-reveal party earlier this year. It’s a boy, of course. Are they having the baby here or in England?”

  “England.” Lazer sighed. “Riggins has been working from his castle there for the last month. Justin, the co-owner of Flashionista, has been going a little crazy running things by himself. Justin is a new father, too, and not getting much sleep. His baby girl was born in March. Soon I’ll be surrounded by babies.” Lazer shuddered, but his sly look was teasing.

  “Is that so bad?” I realized too late I was almost holding my breath. I wanted children, badly. I hadn’t realized how much until my heart began coming to life again and the old dream of a family returned with it. Ruck and I had been planning to have them. We hadn’t managed to get pregnant. And then he was killed in action.

  “It’s no secret I’m not looking to be a dad anytime soon.” Lazer could make even such a disappointing statement sound fun. He shook his head. “It’s bad enough I’m going to be a godfather.”

  I looked at him, surprised. “To who?”

  “Who would choose me, you mean? And trust me with their kid?” He laughed, not taking my surprise badly at all. “To Riggins’ little earl and heir. Should the little guy ever decide to enter the world.”

  “You? Godfather to an earl and future duke?”

  “Don’t look so surprised.” His eyes narrowed. “Riggins and I haven’t always gotten along. That’s true. Long story there. But I helped him out when he was trying to choose his duchess. He wants someone who knows the business world and can mentor and advise the little earl if anything should happen to him. I qualify.

  “I think Justin would be perfect for the role, and told Riggins so when he asked me to be godfather. My way of trying to wiggle out of it.”

  “And you weren’t successful in convincing him, obviously.” I watched his reaction.

  “Obviously not. Riggins wouldn’t hear of it, even though Jus is his business partner and best equipped to guide the little earl in running their joint business. Riggins argued that Justin is young and has his own family now.”

  Lazer paused and grimaced. “He couldn’t fool me. I know the real reason behind his persistence. Both the duchess and Kayla, Justin’s wife, are trying to win me over to the joys of marriage and fatherhood. Don’t think you have the corner on matchmaking. They think forcing me to step up as godfather will do it.” He rolled his eyes.

  I laughed, liking them before even meeting them.

  “Go ahead and laugh,” Lazer said. “Kay and Jus have some added incentive to see me safely settled and domesticated.” He barely hesitated. “Kayla and I have a bit of a history that everyone would like to see safely buried.”

  I cocked my head, exceptionally curious now. “Really? You’re not going to leave me hanging, are you? Spill! You did bring it up, after all.”

  He shrugged good-naturedly, looking not at all embarrassed. “You could say that Kay and I had an instant attraction when we first met.”

  Oooooh. I didn’t like hearing that. Instant attraction as in the kind he and I had? I wasn’t special? Wasn’t the only girl to turn him on like that? How very disappointing. And disturbing.

  I forced myself to remain calm and outwardly imperturbable. “That’s not so scandalous, is it? It’s common enough for friends to be attracted to the same women. Friends are usually friends because of common interests. It makes sense they’d be drawn to similar types of women. I’ve seen it many times.”

  He held my gaze, unflinching in the face of my optimism and benefit of the doubt. “Not so scandalous, no. Except I met her for the first time at the wedding reception I threw for them here, at Lazer Lodge.”

  My eyebrows shot up. “Oh.” I swallowed hard, trying to recover and not look as shocked as I felt.

  He waved a hand dismissively. “Kayla and I never crossed the line. It was all innocent. In the end.” He gazed off into the forever of the horizon as if remembering something. He snapped back to the present suddenly. “She’s crazy about Justin now. I’m over it. We’re all friends. All’s well that ends well.”

  I frowned, unable to get past the thing with Kayla. There had to be something driving that behavior. Something kind of cluttered in his background or psyche I’d have to get rid of before he could move happily on to finding the mate of his life.

  “When you say you didn’t cross the line, I’m assuming you mean physically?” I said. “There are other ways to overstep, you know. Sometimes making an inappropriate emotional connection can be as devastating as a physical affair.”

  His face clouded over.

  Oops. Now I’d overstepped. I held my hands up. “Sorry. Not my business. Forgive me. I didn’t mean to do my Dating Declutter on you. At least not so soon. Force of habit. Sometimes I can’t shut the matchmaker in me off. I’ll save the rest of my Spanish Inquisition for later this week, when I dig deep into your psyche to discover exactly the kind of woman you’re really looking for.”

  His grin returned. “You sure you want to go there? What if you find I’m unmatchable?”

  “No one’s unmatchable. Especially not a man who makes such a mean lavender martini and pairs it with rose chocolate.”

  “How did you make that sound so girly?”

  How did he make his voice sound so seductive? How did he flirt so damn well?

  I was taking this all in. Making note of all his moves. “That wasn’t my intent. This time. A man who can make a girlie martini is incredibly hot, obviously. Women love men who are in touch with their feminine side.”

  Commitment issues. Hitting on a good friend’s brand-new bride. He was so unsuitable. And yet my heart and body longed for him. Fate really was a cruel bitch.

  I paused, trying to decide whether to bring up the robe or not. “By the way, thank you for the robe. Or maybe I should say, the use of the robe. It’s gorgeous.”

  “And yours,” he said without hesitating. “Does it fit?”

  “I haven’t had a chance to try it on.” I sipped my drink, thinking it was never good to appear too eager. Better to let him wonder whether it fit and imagine me in it. “I’m sure it will. If it doesn’t, I’ll make it fit.” I smiled coyly.

  The lavender sugar on the rim of my glass was delicate, the perfect touch. I also detected a hint of raspberry liqueur and lavender syrup in it. It was a beautiful color. Lazer had an obvious knack for coloring my world with everything beautiful.

  He laughed. “I’d like to see that.”

  “I’ll bet you would.” I paused. “It’s too expensive. I shouldn’t accept it—”

  “I insist.”

  “I really—”

  “Consider it part of your signing bonus if it eases your conscience.” He paused, studying me.

  “Thank you. I will,” I said. Always show your gratitude if you want to land a man.

  “Come back in the fall. The nights get cold here. I hand out cashmere robes.”

  My heart raced. “Are you inviting me back already?”

  “We’re partners. Fall is beautiful in the mountains.”

 
“A cashmere robe? It’s tempting.”

  He was tempting.

  “I’m hoping I’ll be hosting another wedding reception at the lodge to draw you back up here. That’s all I’m saying.”

  When I raised an eyebrow, he threw his hands up. “Not mine, of course.”

  “We’ll see,” I said. “Speaking of receptions, I need to speak to your caterers and staff. I have some special requests for tonight.”

  “You should have given them to me earlier to pass along.”

  I shook my head. “I want the element of surprise.”

  “That sounds ominous. But have it your way.”

  We were interrupted by the sound of an approaching helicopter.

  Lazer shielded his eyes as he looked into the sun, trying to spot it. “The guys are here!” His face lit up. He turned to me with an evil glint in his eyes. “Are you ready to meet your new clients and partners?”

  Chapter 4

  Ashley

  Other than contracting with me to match his friends, Lazer had told me very little about them. He hadn’t even given me their names, which rendered me unable to stalk them online, damn him. Although you can believe I’d tried. Social media stalking was half the fun of the job. And part of the service I offered.

  You would be amazed at how many people’s social media accounts are totally off-putting to the opposite sex. Gentleman, when trying to impress women, it’s important to at least give the appearance of being a tiny bit romantic and mature. We’re not stupid creatures. We realize full well that you’re going to try to impress in the beginning and, in most cases, eventually the romantic gestures will become less frequent. If you start out at zero, that doesn’t bode well.

  I’m also not saying to go overboard and pretend to be the Scarlet Pimpernel kissing the steps where his beloved has walked. Women love gestures like that in romantic novels. In real life, it can come off creepy. But let’s just say that if you really do like sunsets and walking on the beach, you shouldn’t hide that. And then there’s the all-important corollary—let a woman get to know you before revealing your, ahem, whimsical side and your penchant for beer pong.