The doctor and Holly’s mother were close friends for many years. Darlene had used Dr. Adams many times as a personal relationship guru for clients who found themselves in dire straits. Holly hadn’t seen much of Cat since her mother had passed, but whenever the doctor made an appearance, something crucial was happening.
“Make sure this office is spotless,” Holly demanded. She dashed to her desk and swept the top of it clean with her arm. While everyone else rushed around the office like their very lives depended on it, Holly continued cleaning and tried to devise a suitable plan of action.
“She’s here!” Chris mentioned, looking out the window. “Her car just pulled into the parking lot.”
“Emma! Get over here!” Holly ordered.
Emma took a seat in front of Holly’s desk. “So Janet Summers said she is just so happy with our services. All the men you’ve set her up with have been top notch.”
“Ahem. Excuse me, ladies,” Chris said with Dr. Adams standing right beside him.
The slightly hunched, little old lady with Coke-bottle glasses had everyone fooled. She could pack a punch with her words alone.
“Oh.” Emma stood from her seat. “I better get back to work and start returning those phone calls. I have sooo many of them.”
Dr. Adams took a seat as soon as Emma left, without even waiting to be invited to do so simply because she never had to wait for anyone. “Hello, Holly,” she said in her creaky as old bones voice. She was dressed in a long, black, flowing dress that complemented the sparkle in her eye.
“It’s good to see you, Cat. It’s been awhile.”
“It certainly has. I see you’re doing well, living up to your mother’s good name.”
“Yes…and thank you,” Holly said, pretending to type an email as they talked. “So…to what do I owe the pleasure? What can I do you for?”
“Well, I heard about your break-up with Matthew.” Dr. Adams shot Holly a toothy, know-it-all grin.
Holly rolled her eyes. “Who hasn’t?”
“I’m sorry about that. If you had gone to one of my seminars every once in a while, it might have saved your relationship.”
“I doubt that,” Holly said, clearly upset by the turn of the conversation. “Is that why you’re here? To gloat and say, ‘I told you so’?”
“No. As a matter of fact, since you are now back in the dating pool, I thought you would make a great guinea pig.”
“Um… a guinea pig? For what?”
“My latest dating experiment.”
Lesson 5
“A dating experiment?” Holly asked. “Please elaborate…and in great detail.”
“Well, to start off, about four months ago, I launched a new online dating website.”
Holly rolled her eyes and folded her arms. “Lovely. Just what this world needs––another worthless electronic matchmaker for liars, losers, and lusters. Look, I don’t have any interest in—”
Cat held up her hand, silencing Holly. “Now just hear me out first before you judge.”
Realizing the woman would not leave until she was heard, Holly rolled her eyes and sighed. “Go on. “I’m listening.”
“I’m trying to find a creative way to draw more traffic to the site,” Dr. Adams explained, “and I was thinking you might make the prefect beta tester.”
“Me? No way.” Holly shook her head like a stubborn child. “You know perfectly well how I feel about online dating .…and if you don’t know, I’ll be happy to enlighten you.”
“Holly,” Dr. Adams said, releasing a heavy sigh. “I am eighty-years old and I embrace technology more than you do. What does that say?”
“That you couldn’t pay me enough to deal with the type of garbage who signs up on those things?”
Dr. Adams placed her hands on the desk and leaned in conspiratorially close to Holly. “Even if you were to be compensated a sloppy seven-figures for your time and services?”
Wait…did she say seven figures? Holly was suddenly intrigued. “Um…just what kind of deal are we talking about here?” Holly asked.
“I was thinking maybe a one, followed by six zeros?”
“A million bucks just to sign up on some useless online dating site?” Holly waved her off. “I thought they canceled Candid Camera a long time ago,” she said, looking around. “Stop playing.”
“Now, Holly, you know I haven’t time to play games. I’m as serious as a heart attack.”
“Okay, fine. For a moment, just suppose I do agree to do this little experiment of yours. Does that mean I actually have to go on dates with these guys?”
“Of course,” Cat said with a hearty chuckle. She tilted her head back, revealing the deeply entrenched wrinkles around her eyes. “You think I would fork over a million for nothing?”
“Then explain your terms and conditions.”
Dr. Adams stopped for a moment and adjusted her hearing aid. “First of all, I have created a dating site that is more innovative and unique than anything that is currently out there. Forget InHarmony, or Matchme.com. I know as well as you do that those websites are complete bullshit, not to mention, misleading.”
For a woman in her eighties, the doctor had no fear about voicing her opinion, often in a series of four-letter words. Cat had always been known for her sarcastic and vulgar mouth, so it never surprised Holly one bit.
Dr. Adams brushed her boyish bangs out of her face and continued, “More to the point, for forty-five dollars a month, I will give people exactly what they want.”
“Impossible.”
“Oh, but dear, I beg to differ. Go on and log on to the site at www.findmetheperfectmatch.com, and I’ll walk you through it.”
Holly shrugged and logged onto the homepage where she saw several stock photos of beautiful couples enjoying each other’s company in desirable locations. She turned the computer monitor toward Dr. Adams. “Okay. Let’s get this show on the road.”
“Well, let’s say you’re searching for a specific type. For example, you want only Caucasian males with blue eyes and blond hair,” Cat explained, pinpointing various items on the website with her finger. “Good ahead and try it.”
Holly clicked on the following requirements: ‘female searching for male,’ Eye color: blue, Hair color: blond, Ethnicity: Caucasian.
“Every guy who fits your search criteria will show up in your search results.”
“That’s not exactly a new feature, Cat. All these sites do that.”
“Yes, but here’s the catch. You can’t search just anyone on the website. You must give it three specific search criteria for any profile to appear, and the photo option does not count. Either you choose it, or you don’t. Anyway, as I was saying, this website will not allow you to search for a twenty-five-year old male with blond hair. I engineered it to deter the riff-raff and lookie-loos. There are thousands of search criteria to choose from, so depending on what you’re looking for, every result will come up different.”
“Hmm. Let me try this again.” Holly clicked: Age: 30-35, Profession: Real Estate: Hair color: Black, Activities: Dining out, Music, Sports. Photos only. A moment later, a few listings appeared, far fewer than she would have expected. “Only a handful of men came up in the results. It seems to be very minimal.”
“That’s not a bad thing, dear. The site will only give you specific results based on the criteria you asked for, instead of giving you everything this side of Los Angeles. With my service, profiles are not in the public domain. No one will be bombarded with a mass of unwanted, redundant inquiries.”
“What happens if I email someone I’m interested in?”
“He can either choose to reply or ignore you just like any other dating website.”
“And how do I fit into all of this? What’s my million-dollar role?”
“You just need to sign up and create a profile, but not as Holly Sparks the matchmaker…oh and you must blog about every date you go on.”
Holly gazed at Dr. Adams incredulously. “Huh? Now you’ve
totally lost me.”
“You must create an alter-ego, if you will, for utilizing the site and for going on dates with the gentlemen you meet through it. Your real name is too well known around here, and you cannot post a photo on the website. After you make a connection, you may send one to the lucky guy, but I don’t want one up for the whole world to see, especially when you will be blogging about it.”
“So I’m supposed to lie to these guys?” Holly asked, wide-eyed and open-mouthed.
“That’s the whole point of the experiment, sweetheart. Besides, they’ll never know the difference,” the doctor explained. “It will be most effective if you go on at least one date a week for the next year and––”
Holly cut her off before she could finish. “Wait…a whole year?! I hardly have time to wash my hair and you expect me to make time to date once a week?”
“Holly, if you feel you are not right for the job, I understand. I would be happy to pass the opportunity on to one of your rivals if you don’t feel you can.”
“No, I can do it,” she conceded. Although she detested the whole idea of the experiment, passing up a million dollars was unfathomable.
“In that case, as I was saying, we will expect your cooperation for an entire year, and you will blog about every date, and obviously refer back to my website each time you do. Please only use your date’s first name, as we don’t want to face any lawsuits. Of course, I’ll be checking on your blog periodically to see how my investment is coming along. Good or bad, publicity is publicity, and either kind attracts attention.”
“Oh man.” Holly rubbed her temples in agony. “I’m getting a headache just thinking about this. You must have some clue as to what type of men sign up on these things.”
“That’s why you need to go into this with an open mind, and you can’t be too picky. Not every man is going to be a millionaire or a ten in your book. Let down your guard for once in your life, and just think of this as a game.”
“I’m not fond of games,” Holly mentioned.
Dr. Adams lifted her finger as though she’d just come across another great idea. “Oh…there are a couple imperative rules you must follow.”
“Ugh. More conditions? Really?” Holly moaned.
“You may go on as many dates as you like with the same person, but you are never to become exclusive, and you are never to reveal your true identity. Think of it like working under cover. At the end of the experiment, you can do whatever you please.”
“That won’t be hard to do. I doubt I’ll ever want a second date.”
“Lastly, I am not announcing myself as the creator of this website until the experiment has ended, so please keep it hush-hush until then. Reason being, I want people signing up for genuine reasons, not those who are doing it just because they know it’s my website.”
“When do I have to start this?” Holly put her forehead down on the desk, as though defeated.
Dr. Adams glanced at her watch. “According to my calculations, this experiment begins on Monday and ends February 23 2014, your big pay day.”
Holly’s mouth became a thin line of disapproval. “You’re telling me I have to wait a whole year before I’ll see any money for this?”
Cat laughed. “I don’t believe in paying someone before the job is done. When your mission is accomplished, you will be paid,” she said. “Oh and please, don’t get any ideas in that pretty little head of yours about striking up any type of real relationship with these men, even if you actually start to like one of them. It wouldn’t benefit any of us and this contract is strictly for experimental purposes.”
“Yeah, yeah. No need to worry about that,” Holly said with a snort. “It looks like I’ve got my work cut out for me, but I’ll handle it. Are we done here?”
“Yes, Holly, and I would be grateful if you came to one of my seminars sometime soon. I think it would truly benefit you.”
“I suppose I’m due for a visit.”
Dr. Adams extracted a thick document from her large leather briefcase. “Now that we’re clear and in agreement, all you have to do is sign here on the dotted line.”
***
“Emma!” Holly yelled from across her desk. “I need your help.”
Emma shot to attention like a military recruit to a drill sergeant’s bark. “What’s up?”
“I’ve got to create this dumb profile and I’ve got no clue where to start.”
“Hey, if you don’t want the million bucks, I’d be happy to take over for you.”
“Uh–– somehow I don’t think Chris would go for that.”
Frankly, Chris and Emma’s relationship went against all laws of the club. The most important rule at Quality Not Quantity was that the women weren’t allowed to have any kind of sexual contact with anyone until they were in an exclusive relationship. Chris and Emma had three dates before they decided to do the deed, and two months into their relationship, they moved in together. The duo had been together for over seven-years and Chris did not intend to put a ring on Emma’s finger. He didn’t believe in the sanctity of marriage, an issue that had once sparked a heated debate with Holly.
Chris blamed his disdain about marriage on his parents who went through a nasty divorce when he was six-years-old. In Chris’s words, a marriage certificate—a mere piece of paper— really was not necessary for him to prove his love for Emma. Holly had strong convictions about men who thought that way. She believed these type of men were commitment-phobes, the kind who’d look for the quickest escape route when things in the relationship got the least bit bumpy or stressful.
For years, Holly had tried to convince Emma to give Chris the ultimatum: Shit or get off the pot, but she wouldn’t budge. Emma was apparently happy with the way things were going in the relationship and she didn’t want to rock the boat. What frustrated Holly to the core was that the two wanted to have a baby in the near future.
“What exactly do you need my help with?” Emma asked, taking a seat beside Holly.
Holly continued staring at her blank profile, as daunting as a composition book to a writer’s blocked college student. “I don’t even know what my name should be.”
“Hmm…” Emma took a moment to think. “Britney sounds cute.”
“Nah. That name makes me sound like I’m blonde, and obviously, I’m not.”
“Rose? You know, because of your hair-color.”
“Too old-fashioned.”
“How about—Lindsay?”
“As in Lohan? No thanks.”
“Kiki?”
“Seriously?”
“Acorn Blu?”
Holly blinked. “I hope you’re joking.”
“What? All the celebrities are giving their babies wild and unique names—like Moon Unit.”
“I’d rather shoot myself in the foot than be named after a food.”
Emma wracked her brain for the next few moments. “Hey, I got it! What about your mother’s name?”
Holly scrunched up her nose, as if an unpleasant smell had suddenly permeated the room. “Darlene?”
“Sure! Why not?” Emma said with a shrug.
“I don’t know. It sounds like I’m some farmer’s daughter from the Midwest, y’all.”
“Nah.” Emma placed her hand underneath her chin. “I think you could pass for a Darlene.”
“Fine,” Holly said. She typed: Name: Darlene. Age: 29. Profession:––so what do I say?”
“What do you mean?”
“I can’t put matchmaker as my profession.”
“Well, what’s something you’ve always wanted to try doing?”
“Hmm. Maybe some kind of writer.”
“With your blog and all, you’re already a writer, so it wouldn’t be a lie.”
“Right.” Profession: Writer. Tell us about yourself. “Now what?”
“Just scooch on over and let me give it a whirl,” Emma said, kicking Holly out of her seat.
Hi. My name is Darlene. I live in Los Angeles and enjoy all the finer th
ings in life, such as cooking, bike riding, fine dining, and traveling. I’m looking for a great guy who enjoys life just as much as I do. I’m a rather down-to-Earth girl, looking for her white knight. Are you the one?
“White knight? Come on, Emma,” Holly said with a roll of her eyes.
“What? It’s romantic.”
Holly put her finger down her throat and made a vomiting noise. “Gag me.”
“Don’t be such a pessimist.”
With a guffaw, Holly replied, “This is such a waste of my time.”
“Getting paid seven figures is never a waste of time. Besides, maybe you’ll accidentally meet the man of your dreams. Don’t knock it till you try it.”
“Yeah? Well, I’m not holding my breath.”
***
That same night, Holly headed over to her father’s house for dinner. It ended up turning into one big family affair. Everyone was home, including her grandmother, and of course Kacie, her adopted younger sister.
Holly sat at the dinner table, partaking in the first family meal in over six-months, discussing her latest adventures. Gale had expertly prepared chicken Marsala with linguine, creamed spinach, and watermelon arugula salad.
“Timothy, when is your next show?” Geraldine asked as she helped herself to the creamed spinach.
Holly’s grandmother had always been attractive, and still was, even at the ripe old age of seventy-six. Geraldine was always dressed in her Sunday best, no matter what the occasion: expensive clothing that showed off her favorite colors, which included silver or red. Her facial features were sharp and velvety and her amber eyes held a flickering brightness, like that of live embers. Her once auburn hair, now cotton white, fell in soft curls over her smooth forehead. Holly was blessed to come from such an exquisite gene pool. She was often mistaken for her mother, which was never taken as an insult.
Tim chewed his food happily and replied, “Next Tuesday at The Laugh Factory. Wish me luck.”
“Daddy’s been rehearsing for us all week,” Kacie said as she picked the olives out of her salad.
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