Betwixt Two Hearts (Crossroads Collection)

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Betwixt Two Hearts (Crossroads Collection) Page 7

by Amanda Tru


  Camden blinked, surprised. Though he knew Marianna’s name, it was only through his occasional stops at the restaurant. She was quite a bit younger than he was, and they didn’t travel in the same social circles, if Camden could claim to belong to any social circles at all.

  Nevertheless, he politely introduced, “Marianna, this is my business partner, Bailey Whitmore. Bailey, this is Marianna Martinez, the best waitress here at the restaurant.”

  “Your business partner?” Marianna echoed, the lines on her face immediately smoothing. “I have to say I’m relieved. You take a mujer hermosa to dinner too often, and you’re likely to make every single woman in Crossroads cry. But a business meeting is different. What can I get you to eat?”

  They both placed their orders, and Marianna hurried back to the kitchen.

  “She probably needs to go make her report to the rest of the audience,” Bailey remarked, watching her leave. “I didn’t realize I was dining with the most eligible bachelor in town or that you had such a protective harem.”

  Camden burst out laughing at the idea. “I’m not, and I don’t! I don’t know what’s gotten into Marianna. I’ve only ever seen her here at the restaurant. I’ve always been friendly, but nothing more.”

  “She likes you, so do the rest of the audience members. Haven’t you seen all of the lovely waitresses sashay by here, sending you alluring smiles while offering me the evil eye?”

  Camden looked at her blankly, clueless as to what she referred to. Maybe Bailey was suffering from working so hard. Couldn’t hallucinations happen if someone was exhausted enough?

  Bailey shook her head and laughed at him. “You’re too naive to notice!” she accused. “Even though Marianna is relieved that I am your business partner, she still doesn’t like me. Neither do the other waitresses. If you want, I can really set their minds at ease and make a general announcement that I have a boyfriend, so you’re definitely still available.”

  Camden grimaced, glancing around the restaurant nervously. “I think you’re overreacting. Marianna seemed friendly enough.” Bailey was reading too much into it, but at the same time, he didn’t want to do or say anything that may give Marianna or anyone else any encouragement to show interest in his personal life or lack thereof.

  Bailey shook her head. “For a guy who owns a matchmaking website, you’re clueless.”

  Fearing that Bailey’s attitude could make the best food unpalatable, Camden immediately shot back. “For a woman who just successfully launched that same matchmaking website, you’re in a sour mood.”

  Realizing how harsh he sounded, Camden softened his tone. “Bailey, you should feel really good about all we’ve accomplished this week. We have more clients than we could have ever anticipated. You’ve gotten through thousands of personal matches exactly as you wanted to. The feedback from users is all positive so far. Those are reasons to celebrate!”

  Bailey smiled wanly. “I think I’ll feel better after I get some sleep and after those first dates get reviewed. So far, everything is still a theory. When we know that clients are enjoying the matches we’ve created, then I can feel good about what we’ve accomplished.”

  Camden frowned slightly. Why did she have to put it that way? “I think it will be great to get good reviews, but I think it will be even more satisfying if the matches actually work. If clients develop strong relationships that result in marriage, then we know we’re providing a valuable service.”

  “Isn’t that kind of a self-defeating goal when you think about it?” Bailey pointed out. “If people find their soul mates, then they no longer pay for our services. We’ll be succeeding ourselves out of business.”

  “If we aren’t successful in our goal of creating marriages, then we’ll soon be out of business anyway,” Camden pointed out, idly swirling the ice around his cup and wishing he’d opted for coffee instead. “However, if we follow through in doing what we advertise, then the positive word-of-mouth should be more than sufficient to provide an ever-increasing supply of single clients.”

  Boring of chasing the ice around his soda with his straw, Camden unfolded his napkin carefully and began refolding it in precise lines that would soon transform the thin paper into a flower.

  “When will we know if our free promo worked and clients are choosing to become members?” Bailey asked, in-between munching on tortilla chips.

  “You want to know when we get paid,” Camden translated, flashing a knowing smile up at her.

  Bailey returned the smile and admitted, “My current nest egg does have a limited supply.”

  While meticulously making small, careful folds in the napkin, Camden explained, “Clients have full access to the site, the app, and all the features for forty-eight hours after they receive their first match. After that, they are locked out of everything unless they join as members for the monthly fee. When they join, they can then choose what plan they want. They can choose to receive a single match at a time from the algorithm or from the personal matchmaker. They can also opt to receive five or ten algorithm matches at a time, which they can then pick and choose from. With each option, they must give reasons or reviews before receiving additional matches.”

  Marianna arrived with their food. Admonishing that the plates were very hot, she placed them on the table and collected Camden’s glass for a refill.

  As soon as Marianna departed, Bailey asked, “All the Betwixt prices aren’t the same for the different options, right? I think I remember you saying something about that.”

  Camden nodded. “The least expensive option is the single algorithm match. The next step up is the algorithm list of five matches, and then ten matches. The most expensive option is the personal matchmaker. With that taking the most man-hours, it makes the most sense for that to be our Cadillac experience, and hopefully, that pay structure will keep the workload for you and Elise down to a manageable level.”

  Abandoning his napkin origami for the moment, Camden picked up his fork to dig into his enchiladas.

  Bailey had also ordered enchiladas. Before she popped a bite into her mouth, she asked. “What’s to stop clients from simply taking their free match and running, or even paying for the batch of five names and then terminating their account?”

  Camden ate a few bites before he answered, sure that at the rate Bailey was asking questions, his food would be cold before he had a break. “I’m sure we’ll have some of that happen, but matches can only be contacted via the website. Contact information is hidden behind the site message system, and we strongly encourage clients not to reveal external contact info until they have corresponded and met a match in person. It’s part of our safety features. If clients contact their free match within the first forty-eight hours and set up a date, that’s fine, but if they don’t obtain external contact info, then they will be unable to interact with that match when locked out of the website.”

  Bailey’s eye brightened in understanding. “They’ll need to pay the monthly fee to revisit the info and communicate with their match.”

  Camden nodded, “Exactly.”

  “Sometimes, Camden, you really are brilliant. Most times you’re not. But sometimes…”

  “I’ll take that compliment,” Camden grinned.

  Marianna arrived with Camden’s refill. By this time, Bailey’s glass was close to empty as well, but after glancing Bailey’s way, Marianna spun around and left.

  Camden turned to try to catch her, but she was already gone. “I don’t think she saw that you needed a refill.”

  “Oh, she saw,” Bailey answered, amusement threading her voice. “I think she thought we were a little too friendly. At least that’s what the glare she sent me clearly said.”

  “I’m sorry,” Camden said, feeling bad. Maybe Bailey wasn’t imagining things. Marianna had clearly left her unfilled glass on the table, and she was usually so conscientious about those things. “I’ll get you a refill as soon as she comes by again.”

  They ate in silence for several minutes. Cam
den hadn’t realized how hungry he was until two out of three of his enchiladas had disappeared. Finally slowing down just a little, he looked up at Bailey, returning to talk of business.

  “Did you get that match approved that I sent to you?” he asked. “It looked to be a quick one.”

  Bailey frowned. “No, not yet. I wanted to review it more before pressing that cute button you like so much.”

  Camden returned her frown. “Bailey, why is it that when two people show a high percentage of compatibility on the algorithm, you seem to have a problem with it? The better the results on the algorithm, the more you seem to want to find an alternative match. Do you resent the algorithm that much?”

  Bailey ate a few more bites, obviously thinking before she replied. “It’s not intentional,” she said. “I don’t consciously target those with a high percentage of compatibility, but it is possible that I do unconsciously seek to find a better match. It isn’t you, nor is it your algorithm. From what I’ve seen, the algorithm is very effective and another example of your brilliance. However, I am a bit biased, and I know that.”

  Camden had expected an adamant denial but instead felt surprised at her thoughtful answer. “Why is that?” Camden asked, curious about her vague comments.

  Bailey stopped eating and stared at her plate, scooting bites around in some unknown sorting pattern. “You have no idea how lucky you are, Camden. Your parents have been married forever and obviously still love and respect each other. My background isn’t nearly so fortunate. My parents are divorced. They split when I was about three years old, and I don’t really have any memories before that happened. The strange thing is that my parents are actually very similar in terms of values and personality. I’m sure your algorithm would have matched them with a high degree of compatibility.”

  Bailey set her fork down completely, and looked up at Camden, continuing her story. “I asked my mom about it once. She didn’t disagree about them being very similar, explaining that they were high school sweethearts who did everything together. They liked the same things, even down to the same food and affinity for history. After they graduated, it seemed just a matter of course that they get married. After I was born, they both realized that, though they loved each other, it felt more like a friendship than romantic love. Even after their divorce, they remained on good terms and are still friends to this day. My mom said their relationship had always been based on friendship, but that friendship had never included a spark.”

  Camden looked at her with understanding and sympathy. “Thank you for telling me, Bailey. That certainly explains why you may have a natural aversion to an algorithm that pairs people together based on their similarities. Just so you know, that’s not what my program does. As I explained before, different values are placed on different areas, and for some issues, more value is given if the two people are different.”

  Bailey nodded, speaking sincerely. “I have no doubt that you did a phenomenal job of designing it, Camden. Now that I know I have that bias, I will try to be aware of it and more objective about the matches that show a strong percentage. I admit that it is hard to see a ninety-seven percent match and not think that I’d better fix that to include some spark.”

  Camden smiled, appreciating her rare honesty. Unable to resist teasing her just a bit, he asked, “Isn’t that spark part of the magic of romance that you can’t really predict? I seem to recall someone saying something to that effect. Hey, did your parents ever find that spark and get remarried?”

  “Oh, yes,” Bailey nodded. “Multiple times.” Laughing at her own joke, she explained. “My parents divorced when I was three. Both of them remarried before I entered kindergarten and had other children. Both of them got divorced again before I reached high school. They had on and off relationships and are now both remarried again.”

  The left side of Camden’s mouth quirked up in humor. “Did you ever talk to your mom about that elusive spark again?”

  “Oh, yes, I asked after her second divorce.” Bailey looked like she was trying to hold in a smile but couldn’t quite manage it. “She said it died.”

  Camden leaned his head back and laughed deep in his chest. “Which is worse, to have no spark or to have one that dies?”

  Bailey’s giggles were such that Camden could barely understand as she choked out, “I don’t know!”

  The bill came, and Camden paid it despite Bailey’s protest. Still objecting even after Marianna returned with his card, Bailey intercepted the receipt to see how much she owed him. Though she glanced at the numbers, what caught her eye most was the name at the top of the paper.

  “Wait a minute. Is this restaurant really called, ‘La Bonita Sombrero’?” she asked.

  “Yes, it is,” Marianna responded, snatching the receipt from where Bailey had set it on the table and returning it to Camden.

  Bailey’s brow furrowed. “I’m not up on my Spanish, but isn’t that a rather unusual name?”

  “Quite,” Camden agreed, looking to Marianna to see if she wanted to explain. After all, the restaurant belonged to her family.

  Though she didn’t look happy about the task, Marianna stated quite factually, “‘Bonita’ is a feminine adjective and should go with a feminine noun, but ‘sombrero’ is a masculine noun. Those two words aren’t typically used together.”

  Marianna gathered the dirty plates and turned to leave.

  “Marianna’s parents are the restaurant’s owners,” Camden explained since Marianna obviously didn’t intend to finish the task. “They disagreed on what the name should be, so they compromised. Since they are equal owners, they each chose a part of the name that represented them and combined it into one unique title.”

  At Camden’s words, Marianna paused. When he finished, she added with a smile, “It doesn’t follow the rules, but my parents have always done things their own way. ‘La Bonita Sombrero’ very much fits who they are.”

  “What a romantic story!” Bailey said warmly. Looking at Camden, she raised an eyebrow. “From the sound of it, I bet Mr. and Mrs. Martinez definitely have a spark!”

  “I should say so!” Marianna answered, her words clipped. “But I think nine children qualifies them for a gran fuego more than any pequiña chispa!”

  Bailey’s eyes crinkled with amusement. Before she could question Marianna further, Camden laughed and stood.

  “Thank you, Marianna. The food was delicious, as always. Please say ‘hello’ to your parents and sisters for me.”

  Marianna sniffed in distaste. “I’ll tell my parents, but not Ana, Isobel, Daniella, or Natalia. They are already las chicas tontas. If I tell them you said ‘hello,’ they would surely assume a marriage proposal from you was imminente. The younger ones should be safe, though.”

  Camden looked at Bailey and saw that her Spanish seemed adequate enough for her to understand Marianna was referring to her sisters as “silly girls.”

  “Marianna, are all of these other lovely waitresses your sisters?” Bailey asked, suddenly putting two and two together. “Do you have a brother hiding somewhere?”

  “I wish!” Marianna laughed, finally seeming to warm up to Bailey. “My parents were blessed with nine daughters, and even the youngest helps out here at the restaurant.”

  “Mr. Martinez’s ‘sombrero’ is the only masculine thing around here,” Camden remarked dryly.

  This sent both Marianna and Bailey into great fits of laughter. After saying their goodbyes, Marianna finally made her way back to the kitchen with the plates in her arms dangerously swaying back and forth to the rhythm of her giggles. Bailey still hadn’t gained enough control to walk a straight line, so Camden gripped her elbow and guided her out. The cool air welcoming their exit from the restaurant calmed Bailey’s merriment, though Camden didn’t immediately release his touch on her arm.

  “This is for you, Bailey,” Camden said, handing her the napkin he’d folded in the restaurant. He shrugged. “I know you don’t like origami, but I enjoyed having dinner with you. You
can just throw it away if you want.”

  Bailey took the offered napkin. “It’s a flower!” she said in amazement. “Almost like a poinsettia. Camden, it’s beautiful! I never said I didn’t like origami. I just didn’t like it when I thought you were giving your attention to it rather than the problem we needed to solve.”

  She paused, her brown eyes sparkling as she looked up at him. “Thank you. I like it very much.”

  Camden nodded, feeling awkward at her thanks, but even more awkward at the thrill of pleasure her words caused.

  Careful, he warned himself. You certainly don’t want to feel anything for her that could be construed as a spark, muy pequeña or otherwise.

  Bailey held the napkin flower in her cold hand, not sure what to do with it. She didn’t want to put it in her purse because she couldn’t stand the thought of it getting squished and crumpled in the close confinement. However, as delicate and pretty as it lay, poised on her hand, the January temperatures could quickly cause that hand to lose all feeling.

  “I need to walk over to Brooke’s store to pick up a gift for my mom’s birthday,” Camden said, not noticing Bailey’s dilemma. “It’s Israel’s orders. Do you mind? If I take you home first, I think the store will close before I make it back.”

  “Brooke’s shop is around here?” Bailey asked with interest, looking up and down the street. “I don’t mind. I’d love to see it anyway.”

  Bailey had met some of Camden’s other family members this past weekend. Though she still wasn’t sure about Camden himself, she very much liked his family, especially his youngest sister, Brooke. She’d wanted to venture to downtown Crossroads and check out Brooke’s shop, the Out of the Blue Bouquet, but she hadn’t yet had time. Though the circumstances weren’t ideal and she suspected frostbite to her cold fingers might be the price to pay, she knew she couldn’t refuse.

  “Yes, Brooke’s shop is just a few doors down and across the street,” Camden said, pointing in a vague direction.

 

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