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Perfect Match

Page 19

by Lila Monroe


  “Got it,” I say. “And thank you, Hallie. I’d be lost without you.”

  “Believe me, I know it,” she says with a sigh.

  I lean forward to give the chauffeur our new destination. Central Park. A photoshoot? I’m not sure how that relates to whatever story Nelle is cooking up, but I guess I’ll find out when I get there. When I finally see McKenna again. Damn, I have some major apologizing to do. I can offer for us to go over the job candidates together. And then take her out for a very nice dinner. Finish it off with a long session between the sheets that’s totally dedicated to her, and hopefully, all will be forgotten.

  “Just cruise around the park for now,” I tell the chauffeur. He nods and eases up on the gas as the first trees come into view. We’ve made it about halfway around when I spot Nelle Castle and a guy holding a camera. “Here. I may need you to swing by again later.”

  “No problem.”

  I get out and head over, scanning the park grounds for McKenna. My gaze catches on a figure with familiar black-framed glasses down the path near the fountain, side by side with a guy I’ve never seen before. I do a double take.

  Yes, that’s definitely McKenna. And she’s laughing now at something the guy said. I don’t like how close he’s hovering. Or the way he touched her shoulder just now. What the hell is going on here?

  “Jack!” Nelle says. “I didn’t realize you were in town.” She nods to the apparently happy couple as I come to a stop beside her. “Isn’t this great? What a story to get people excited about Perfect Match. I can’t believe McKenna is still single when she had her own match waiting right there for her. Although from the looks of things, she won’t be single for much longer.”

  It takes my mind a few seconds to catch up. “She’s single, you said?”

  “Crazy, isn’t it? She said she just hasn’t had the time to take advantage of her own work. But look at how well it’s working out!”

  By all appearances, McKenna is outstandingly happy. She and her date stroll around the fountain, her face bright as she smiles at him. He gestures, telling some joke, and she laughs again. My jaw clenches.

  “It’s funny, I just profiled Shelby Summers the other week,” Nelle prattles on, oblivious. “Do you know about her? Very traditional approach to matchmaking in everything except the way she delivers it. Do whatever you can to catch a guy’s attention and get him on the hook, give him a chase, that kind of stuff. But it turns out she and Ms. Delaney did their thesis research together in college. Two very different approaches to relationships coming out of the same starting point.”

  She motions for the photographer to move closer. “Get us some money shots. It’s almost time to wrap this up.” He jogs over to McKenna and her date.

  My stomach had knotted, but now it feels only hollow. “I hadn’t actually heard of Shelby Summers.”

  “Oh, it’s probably just too much of a clash in approaches. McKenna is so independent in her work, isn’t she? From what I gathered …” Nelle bites her lip. “I couldn’t print this, but the gossip is that Ms. Summers used her techniques on an awful lot of rich men to get to where she is now.”

  Is McKenna so opposed to that kind of manipulation? An hour ago, I wouldn’t have considered it for a second. But as I watch, the photographer motions her and her date closer together. McKenna wraps her arms around him to pose for the camera. Her cheeks look flushed—not just from the cold, is it? She ducks her head, playing shy, but then she lifts her chin so the guy can plant a quick kiss on her lips. My hands ball at my sides.

  “Here, this is Shelby,” Nelle says. She holds out her phone. I recognize the woman on it in an instant.

  I saw McKenna talking to that blonde at the bar last week, after I’d stepped out to take a call. So they are still in contact. Or maybe she was getting tips …

  My heart sinks. She’d do anything for her company, wouldn’t she? I know that. McKenna pulled out every trick she had to get my attention. Maybe some I didn’t even realize she was using. Why not pull a page out of her old colleague Shelby Summers’ book if it gets her what she wants?

  I watch her, my mind racing as everything clicks into place. I thought we had something. I thought she didn’t care about my money or my position. But that was how this all started, wasn’t it? Getting me to invest.

  And then the second the deal was sealed, her company moved right into my offices, and she picked a stupid fight and went cold on me.

  My gut has clenched. I got so caught up in here … I should have known better. Every woman who’s ever chased after me cared more about what I could give them than who I was. How idiotic could I get to think this was any different?

  “I’m going to go chat with them a bit and get their thoughts on how the date went,” Nelle says. “Want to join me? You’ll get to see your investment in action.”

  That’s the last thing I want to see right now. I’m not sure I could walk over there without taking a swing at that guy—or taking a piece out of McKenna.

  No, she doesn’t deserve the satisfaction of knowing how much she got to me. She’s happy now. I’ll be happy, too. We had a fling, and now it’s done. I’m certainly used to those.

  “I’ve actually got some things to catch up on back at the office,” I say. “I’m looking forward to reading the story, though.”

  “I’ll make sure you’re sent one of the first copies,” Nelle says.

  I stalk away through the park. The air is chilly, but I feel hot all over, and not in a way I like. My mind keeps replaying little moments. Locking eyes with McKenna on the cliff face. The way she was gazing up at her date. Her moans in the bedroom at night. I rub my eyes, but the memories hold on.

  There’s only one answer. She’s moving on, so I’ve got to do the same.

  I call my car around. It’s waiting for me when I reach the south end of the park. “Maverick Capital,” I say. The second we’ve reach the building, I hurry up to office and turn on my computer.

  Where is it? I know I kept a record somewhere … Ah. The lovely Claudia. My last match from McKenna’s list, the most perfect of them all. It really is a shame she had to cancel on that dinner. Imagine where I might be now if I’d gone out with her instead.

  Well, you can’t rewrite the past, but you can decide how you write your future. I pick up my phone and dial the number.

  “Hello, is this Claudia? It’s Jack from Perfect Match. I was wondering if it was a good time to reschedule that dinner.”

  27

  McKenna

  “Oh my God. There are so many people here.” Riley peers around the conference hall where this year’s Tech Talk is being held with wide eyes.

  “Of course there are,” Warren says. “It’s the biggest event of the year.”

  “And all these people are going to hear about Perfect Match!” Riley bounces, clutching my arm.

  I should be just as excited, but all I feel looking around at the milling crowds are my jittering nerves. We’re officially announcing Perfect Match today, that’s true. But we’re missing one key person. I haven’t heard from Jack since he got back from Florida.

  At first I thought I was going to wait for him to come to me, but when he was a no-show, I got impatient and tried texting and then calling. No answers. Hallie has made vague excuses, looking apologetic. How could he be this busy right before our big presentation—too busy to even talk about it with me?

  We wander through the hall. My own eyes are pretty wide. Every tech-related company worth knowing about has a booth here. CEOs and other key figures are schmoozing away everywhere I look. They’re all going to know who I am by the end of the day—and not as that over-ambitious woman they couldn’t be bothered to take seriously a few months ago. But as someone worth listening to.

  Riley lets out a muted shriek. “Look! It’s David Myers from QuickLike. They are so going to be the next Snapchat.”

  Warren is ogling some servers on display in the hardware area from afar. “You know your budget,” I say, nudging him.
“If you see something we can use and it doesn’t go over, grab it.”

  He rubs his hands together. “This is so good for us, McKenna. We’re big-time, for real. All thanks to you, our fearless leader.” He gives me a salute.

  “You are going to own that stage,” Riley agrees, looking toward the big platform at one end of the enormous room. A young guy who looks like he could be a Bill Gates clone is standing at the podium, talking about the latest in fiber optics. We’re up in less than an hour. I am definitely not freaking out. No not even a little bit.

  Ha ha ha.

  “Have either of you seen Jack yet?” I ask. He has to show up for this. Hallie told me he had a whole introduction ready, that he’d get things started and then have me come on stage to say my bit. “You’ll get at least half of the airtime,” she said. “I promise.” I’m not sure I wouldn’t rather leave the public speaking mostly to Jack. But at least he’s compromising this time?

  Both of my employees shake their heads. “He’ll turn up,” Riley says. “Busy guy. Isn’t there some super special VIP lounge around somewhere? You’ve got access with your badge.” She nods to the laminated name tag dangling from my neck.

  A VIP lounge does sound like a Jack sort of place. “I’ll catch up with you two later,” I say. “Have fun!”

  I wander until I see a conference volunteer. “Excuse me,” I say. “Can you tell me where to find the VIP lounge?”

  “Sure,” the woman says brightly. “Just up the stairs there and around to the right.” She pauses and takes a closer look at me. “Wait, are you McKenna Delaney?”

  Wow. I wasn’t expecting to get recognized by strangers before my presentation. “Yeah, actually I am,” I say.

  She whips out her phone. “I was just reading about your app. It sounds amazing! And congrats on finding your match.”

  “Oh. Um, thank you.” The article’s already up? What exactly did Nelle write?

  I duck off to the side of the room, away from the buzz of the booths. A quick search brings up the article on my own phone. Everyone could be reading it right now. My heart speeding up, I start reading.

  It’s good. I know it’s good. Well-written and punchy, with lots of focus on the app. Unfortunately, a lot of that focus revolves around how McKenna Delaney, founder of the app, used it to find love with her own perfect match. There’s even a photo of Peter and me kissing. I cringe, remembering how awkward that brief peck felt.

  It’s a lovely story, but it’s not at all true. I was noncommittal with all the questions Nelle asked. And after Nelle and her photographer took off, I told Peter that I’d had a lot of fun, but I didn’t think we’d quite clicked. He took it as graciously as the rest of the situation. This is great PR for the app, sure, but I don’t want the buzz to revolve around my love life. Especially not a fake version of that.

  I wonder if Jack’s seen it yet. I feel a small flash of guilt over the Peter part of things. But he’ll understand: he’s the one who set up the interview to begin with.

  Inside the VIP lounge, bottles of wine and glasses are set out on tables. Men and women—let’s be real, mostly men—are sitting in leather chairs all around the warmly lit space. And, ah, there’s the guy I’m looking for. Jack is chatting with an older man I think I remember from the awards gala the other night, though I can’t remember his name.

  I make my way over, a smile already springing onto my face even though we haven’t talked since our argument about the move. Jack looks handsome as ever. His black curls are just the slightest bit wild, his blue eyes bright as they meet mine …

  Bright, and a little cold.

  He murmurs something to the other man, who ambles off. Jack turns to me.

  “Hey.” I smile. “It’s good to finally catch up with you. You’ve been a hard guy to get in touch with the last few days. It’s giving me a bit of déjà vu.”

  I keep smiling to show I’m teasing, but Jack’s expression stays impassive. “I’ve had a lot to take care of,” he says. His tone is definitely cool. “I trust you’re ready for your part of the presentation.”

  “Of course. You know me.”

  You wouldn’t think he did, the way he’s looking at me. You’d hardly believe we’d ever spoken before, let alone made mad passionate love all over multiple buildings.

  “I’m glad to hear it,” he says in the same even tone. “There’s already been a lot of interest in the app.”

  What is going on with him? “Is something wrong?” I ask.

  He gives me a puzzled look, but I can’t help feeling there’s something sharper underneath. “No, not at all. Although I believe it’s almost time for our talk. We should be getting down there.”

  “Right.” I tag along behind him, increasingly uneasy. This is what I wanted, isn’t it? Professional in public, no matter what we’ve been up to in private. Jack never seemed to care before, but maybe in a setting like this, he figures it’s necessary.

  Jack leads the way backstage. Another volunteer fits us with microphones and shows us how to turn them on when it’s time for us to speak. Before I can think of anything to say that might break the ice with Jack, he’s being ushered on stage. I wait back in the wings, shifting my weight from foot to foot.

  It’s fine. Everything is fine, I tell myself. Why wouldn’t it be? Even last week when I was yelling at him, he was his usual warm, affectionate self. Florida couldn’t have changed things that much.

  Jack ignores the podium, ambling along the front of the stage instead. His chill has disappeared—he’s all warm smiles now.

  “I always enjoy coming to Tech Talk,” he begins, “even though you all make me feel like a luddite. I do know my way around a computer, I want you to know that. I’m just not a genius like so many people here today.”

  I can see a lot of grins in the audience at that. He does know how to play to a crowd.

  “So I’m grateful that coming here today I have something new that I can share with you. Something that will completely transform the way you think about online dating. Come on now, be honest. How many of us have turned to the World Wide Web to find romance?”

  He raises his hand immediately. Most of the figures in the crowd follow suit. Jack nods. “There’s no shame in that. Why shouldn’t we make use of all the tools available to us in the pursuit of love? But until now, most of those tools have been, shall we say … a little inexact. No offense meant to any reps of the competition who happen to be present.”

  A twitter of laughter passes through the audience. Jack smiles wider. He knows he’s got them in the palm of his hand, I can tell. But something still feels off. The impression prickles over my skin. He’s wound up in some way I’m not sure I’ve seen before. Of course, I’ve never seen him do a big public presentation before …

  “The product I’m honored to be sharing with you today is going to change all that,” Jack goes on. “No more wondering if you’re blinded by a pretty face or chasing after partners who are just wrong for you. All the top relationship research out there, boiled down to a powerful algorithm that just won’t quit.”

  He winks at the audience—or at one particular person in the audience? A woman steps a little forward near the base of the stage, beaming up at Jack. She looks oddly familiar. And gorgeous. Where have I seen that face before?

  She turns her head slightly, and the memory hits me. I’ve only seen her in a photograph. A photograph in a profile on my computer screen.

  Jack’s last match.

  My stomach drops before I can even start to think about what that could mean. Jack is motioning toward the stage … and Miss Match is making her way to the steps. What the fuck is going on?

  “If you’ve heard anything about me, you know my reputation,” Jack says. “But this app does its work so perfectly, it can win over even a consummate bachelor. I’d like you all to meet Claudia, the lovely woman I met thanks to Perfect Match. If it’s got even me believing in soulmates, imagine what it can do for the rest of the world.”

  H
e opens his arms. Claudia walks right into them. In a motion so smooth I have to believe he’s done it several times before, Jack leans in for a kiss. Not some chaste peck either. A long, passionate lip-lock that rips the floor right out from under me.

  What the hell is happening?

  28

  McKenna

  “I don’t know if I can keep doing this much longer.” I already look worn out in the bathroom mirror. My cheeks hurt from holding a smile I have to force. I can hardly remember half the stuff I said in the last few hours. It’s a good thing I had my presentation memorized. All that was going on inside my head while I was up on stage was a wail of shock and confusion. And the image of Jack kissing his match on replay.

  Where’s the fast forward button when you need one? Or better yet, rewind and erase?

  Riley’s reflection gives me a stern look. “You can’t bail yet, Mac. You’re in the big leagues now. You’ve had this dream since before Jack was ever on your radar. Don’t let him ruin it for you. You won’t forgive yourself.” She pokes me with her elbow. “I won’t forgive you.”

  “Right. You’re right.” I splash a little cold water on my face, dry it off, and accept the lipstick tube Riley hands to me. “I can do this. It’s just a little after-party.”

  “I’ll be right there with you,” Riley promises.

  I shouldn’t have kidded myself. It isn’t a little after-party—it’s a honking big after-party. On a yacht. In the middle of the Hudson.

  Riley, Warren, and I wade through swarms of tech folks who are now packed even more tightly than on the conference hall floor. Music blares. Colored lights flash. Glasses clink and booze sloshes. In one room a bunch of acrobats are spinning on hoops over the crowd.

  Yeah. This wouldn’t be my scene even if my heart were in one piece.

  Which it definitely is not. It seems like no matter where I wander on the damned boat, I turn and see Jack with his arm around Claudia. Stroking his thumb over her shoulder. Leaning in to give her another kiss. He looks so fucking happy about it too. And so does she. A picture-perfect couple.

  My stomach won’t stop churning. I don’t think I can blame it on the faint rocking of the boat.

 

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