by Suzie Nelson
“Short version, Dad.”
“Okay. He asked me if I was related to Alicia Stringer who runs that exclusive matchmaking company. He saw my chest rise and knew right away you were my daughter. Turns out he wants to get in touch with you, so I gave him one of the “exclusive” cards. I figured you would want to handle him on your own.”
“Wow,” remarked Alicia. She had tried to get Ian to talk with her several times. She had met him briefly at a few New York benefits and parties, but the stock broker turned sailor never gave her a chance. “Of course, I’d like to handle him personally.”
“Hey. Don’t talk like that to your father.”
“Dad, he’s a client. And you know my Golden Rule: No fraternizing with the customers.”
“Yeah, I know what you say, but we all know how I met your mom when I was working at Nathan’s. You wouldn’t be here if I didn’t do a little franternizin’, know what I’m sayin’?”
“Gotta go. Love you Dad. Hugs and kisses to the rest of the Stringers. I’ll let you know if Ian Forsythe really calls.”
Chapter 2
“I can’t believe I’m doing this shit,” Ian Forsythe uttered as he dialed a phone number for Sincere, the matchmaking company for billionaires. He had no interest in falling in love, let alone getting married, but he lost fair and square to Wang Wei, the owner of the Fedex of China, S.F. Express. Wei drank Ian under the table and won their bet, so Ian had to call Sincere and get set up. How the 5’6” Chinese billionaire managed to outdrink 6’3” Ian Forsythe, only the gods knew. Ian, who had a hangover for two days and lost a $2.1 million deal (to none other than Wei) was sure he cheated.
“This is Alicia. May I ask who is phoning?” Alicia had a private line (a throw away phone) that she used for clients she knew would appreciate the anonymity.
“Yeah, uh, hello. This is Ian Forsythe. Your dad gave me this number.” Ian rolled his eyes. Why am I nervous?This is nothing but a stupid prank.
Still, Ian realized his palms were sweaty.
“What may I do for you, Mr. Forsythe?” asked Alicia, as equally surprised by her own nervousness.
“I would like to speak with you about your services,” Ian said, sounding as nervous as a teen asking a girl on a date. “I mean, I’m interested in finding someone…someone special.”
“I see. If I may be so bold, I’ve approached you several times about meeting with me to no avail. Why now?”
“I’m bored. No! I don’t mean that like it sounds. I’m tired of one night stands and finding someone to accompany me to the many functions I have to attend.”
“I see. I like to meet with potential clients first. Are you available early next week? I have an opening at 11:00 am on Tuesday.”
“Sounds great.” Ian didn’t even look at his schedule before making the appointment. It was something in the woman’s voice.
“Great. Our offices are on the top floor of the U.N. building. The elevator opens to our reception area. Eleanor will let me know when you arrive. Oh, and please be prompt. I have a tight schedule.”
“Sure, Ms. Stringer. Tuesday at 11 on the top floor of the United Nations building. Eleanor will guide the way.”
“Very well, then. I look forward to meeting with you. And, please, call me Alicia.”
“Then call me, Ian. Okay…Alicia?”
“See you on Tuesday. Good-bye.” Alicia hung up without waiting for Ian’s response. When she realized that she’d been twisting her long, auburn hair, a habit from childhood, she punched herself on her thighs. Don’t go there, girl. Men like Ian are the worst. No way do I want to run my fingers through that thick black hair, touch that six-pack. God knows what’s inside his pants!
“Stop!” she shouted loud enough for Eleanor to buzz her to be sure everything was okay. “All’s good, El. Just spilled a little coffee on some paperwork, and it’s already cleaned up.”
“Sure, Alicia. You haven’t drunk coffee for years. Remember, no fraternizing with clients.”
“That obvious?” asked Alicia.
Eleanor had already hung up the intercom.
Chapter 3
Ian Forsythe was born to be rich, handsome, and have whatever he wanted. The Connecticut born and bred Yalie couldn’t wait to get to the city to live. He loved his parents dearly, but being the only child of upper middle class New Englanders can become more of a chore than a privilege.
Ian had it all. Smart, good-looking, genuinely nice, and always thinking ahead. What the Forsythe’s themselves didn’t know was that Ian had a plan since he spent a week on the Upper East Side of Manhattan with his Aunt Greta for his 13th birthday. He fell in love with the noise, the smog, the fast-paced world and promised himself he would do whatever it took to get there.
As high school progressed to college, Ian found himself fascinated with money. Not spending it; making it. And in his junior year at Yale, after a probability theory stat course, he got interested in the stock market. He applied for one job: floor runner at the New York Stock Exchange. After 27 months, he was upstairs working for clients who paid him bonuses higher than his $500,000 annual salary.
It took Ian’s 30th birthday party at Clinton Hall seeing how drunk he could get, to realize that even the life of a financier at the NYSE wasn’t satisfying enough. He gave his resignation the next day, drove his Porsche Panamera Turbo to his parent’s house in Westport, brought his father with him to buy a sailboat, and left the next week.
The media, who loved any news about Ian, couldn’t get any answers as to why he left his millionaire life behind and went…no one knew. Even his parents could say they had no idea, truthfully. The Atlantic Ocean is big enough to get away from everyone. And it stayed that way for almost nine months.
Next, the world found out that Ian had traded 8% of his Microsoft stocks for 3500 acres of land with an unknown person, which he then donated to Sandra Ortega Mera, daughter of the richest man in Spain, Amancio Ortega Gaona, to build a state of the art live-in facility for children with debilitating conditions. Her brother, Marcos, was born with cerebral palsy, and she worked with her mother to fund a foundation in his name.
Newspapers from The Daily Sun in London to the Los Angeles Times were speculating for weeks. Had Ian become a humanitarian? Was he involved with Sandra Ortega? She was more than a decade his senior but looked sensational. No one could find out any good “scoop”, so another story eventually took over the headlines.
As Phil Stringer would say, “to make a long story short,” Ian spent nearly five years on the water, traveling through Europe, down to Australia, and then to Japan. He continued to make headlines, much like the deal in Spain, only to become more of a mystery and an insatiable desire to woman and news reporters around the globe. Then, Ian donated his sailboat to a refugee center that was built after the 2011 Fukushima earthquake. They would now be able to travel the waterways without fear of radiation or other unsafe chemicals in the water.
Two years later, the world learned that Ian was back in New York City, a billionaire. How was that possible? It turned out that Ian, ever the thinker, made investments with the people he gave “gifts” to, and ended up coming back to the United States worth an estimated $9.1 billion. He had made friends around the globe, and since he had returned to Manhattan seven months ago, was back to his playboy, partying, sexiest bachelor alive ways.
Until the day he talked to Alicia Stringer.
Chapter 4
It is strange that someone like Alicia Stringer would get involved as a matchmaker. As the youngest of six children, she felt like she had seven parents. The children all grew up at the deli, and her brothers still worked there. Her sisters, Alana and Danielle, were stay-at-home moms, although they both did the finances for the business.
Alicia was the only one to go to college, but it still was a surprise nearly to everyone that she stayed in Manhattan and didn’t move back to be near family. Alicia earned a psychology degree at NYU, finishing second in her cla
ss.
She loved reading people. The whole family was good at knowing who they should stay away from. Sometimes, Alicia knew everything about someone in five minutes. She had an uncanny ability to know if a person was telling the truth.
Once, when she was seven, she told her dad that he shouldn’t trust the contractors he hired to expand the deli. He laughed, but one day after school, Alicia went to talk to them, and her father was listening.
“I thought you told my dad you were using 2x6 inch wood. These are 2x4’s. And look at the edges. These seem dangerous.”
“Shuddup, kid! And gimme that. Ya don’t know what you’re talkin’ about.” The contractor pulled the wood out of her hand and left a splinter a half inch long.
“Ouch!” said Alicia. “See, rough edges.”
The worker walked over to Alicia, bent down to her height and said, “Listen, you little bitch. You say one thing to your father and Stringers Deli won’t exist…except as a pile of ashes.” He grabbed Alicia’s arms. “Ya know what I’m sayin’?”
“Take your hands off my daughter! Then, get out!” shouted Phil Stringer to the surprised construction worker. “Get the hell off my property, and take your piece of shit employees and materials with you. You have 20 minutes!”
Alicia was sucking on the finger with the splinter and managed to pull it out herself. Her dad, who had picked her up when he overheard the foreman getting nasty, watched as she calmly pulled the splinter with her teeth, handing it to him when it was out. She sucked on her finger again and said, “It’s a little bloody. Sorry.”
That’s when Phil Stringer knew his baby had more than an ability to read people; she had a gift. Added to her independence and fearlessness, he knew she was not going to be slicing deli meats when she grew up.
Alicia was 22 when she graduated and worked as an admissions officer at NYU. The school had to compete with the Ivy League schools, and Alicia enjoyed interviewing potential candidates for admission.
Her boss questioned her decision more than once when she first began. However, two of her choices, Stephanie Germanotta (a.k.a. Lady Gaga) and Aziz Ansari, donated $1,000,000 to their alma mater, and no more questions were asked.
After three years at NYU, Alicia became friends with some important and wealthy people. She was invited to a party at Martha Stewart’s Westhampton home, where she met Paul McCartney, who she introduced to Nancy Shevell. Alicia remembered whispering “she’d be good for you” in Paul’s ear. They got married a few years later.
After she fixed up Broadway actors Audra McDonald and Will Swanson, who eventually married, Alicia became known as the millionaire matchmaker around her friends and their friends. Men and women began asking her what they thought about people in whom they were interested, and she gave them her honest advice. She was almost always right on.
When Sean Combs talked to Alicia about her becoming a matchmaker to the millionaires, she laughed. “Sure, Sean, but that’s too many people. Make me a matchmaker to the billionaires. There are quite a few these days.”
Alicia thought Sean was joking, but they spent several days discussing a business plan, and Alicia Stringer became the 49% owner and 100% operator of Sincere, the matchmaking company for billionaires.
Sean financed her for two years as she traveled around North America, talking personally to single, eligible men and women billionaires who she thought were ready for a real relationship. At first, she struggled to persuade people who often thought scam artists were trying to get their money. However, after two successful matches, her name started popping up in the papers. Then, when she moved to the U.N. building and expanded her business worldwide, the billionaire matchmaker became very rich herself.
Chapter 5
Tuesday couldn’t come fast enough for both Alicia and Ian.
After earning millions as a stock broker only to live reclusively for almost ten years, then come back home to become the playboy again, Alicia was wondering if she was going to be able to figure him out. That was one aspect she never considered once she shook someone’s hand, asked them three or four irrelevant questions, and studied their eyes. Alicia was excited to meet the infamous bachelor and hoped like hell he was an easier read than she thought.
Ian, on the other hand, was looking forward to getting the meeting over and done. He would tell Weng Wei that Alicia didn’t know anyone for him, so the bet was finished. He went for the meeting…it was done. Except, Ian couldn’t get Alicia’s voice out of his head. He had seen her picture a few times; tall, large-breasted (which he loved), with a solid, not fat but not thin, body. She had long wavy auburn hair, and although he preferred blondes, he thought she was attractive. The few times that she tried to talk to him at a party or a charity event, he didn’t pay much attention.
Thus, when he heard her raspy yet soft voice, he lost his cool. Ian was always the one in control. He spent his life getting other people to believe they were controlling him, when it was always the other way around. Forever the planner. He was caught off guard, pissed at himself for never listening to her when he saw her. Then he would have been ready. He was intrigued with women with soft, sexy voices, and he knew that if he ever decided to settle down, he envisioned a woman who could sing his son to sleep. That was Alicia’s voice.
But voice is like 5th on the list, he thought as he walked off the elevator into Sincere’s offices. Eleanor, he assumed, stood up to greet him.
Good morning, Mr. Forsythe, I’ll let Ms. Stringer know you are here. Would you care for anything?
Anything?thought Ian. To not be here would work, but he said, “Do you have flavored water?”
“Sparkling or not?” asked Eleanor.
“Not,” replied Ian as he took a seat in a comfortable black leather chair.
Eleanor was back in 30 seconds with a glass with ice and an unopened bottle of blackberry/mango flavored water. How did she know that he liked to drink from a glass? Weird, he said to himself as he filled his glass.
A moment later, Eleanor told Ian he could see Alicia now. She waved her hand towards the white French doors to her office. Ian picked up his glass and water bottle and swaggered into Alicia’s office. He smiled slyly as he watched Eleanor watch him. “Still got it, Forsythe,” he whispered as he opened the door to Alicia Stringer’s office.
Since Alicia and Ian were both well-known, they didn’t have to experience seeing each other for the first time. Still, they both lost their breath when Ian walked in her office and kicked the door shut. He was wearing slip-on Jordans, obviously made exclusively for him. He wore a pair of black skinny jeans and a dry-fit white t-shirt with a warm yellow unbuttoned Ralph Lauren shirt with the sleeves rolled up.
“You must be Alicia,” he smiled as he put his water bottle and glass on her glass-topped desk and sat down in a black chair like the one in the lobby.
“I am,” responded Alicia, while she placed coasters under his water. She sat down behind her desk and asked Ian how he was doing.
“I’m great. Well, to be honest, no I’m not. I wouldn’t be here if I was, would I?”
“I’m not sure. I think some people are quite content with their life even if they thought that sharing it with another would be enjoyable.”
“Is that a fair description of yourself, Alicia?” Ian took his glass, crossed his legs, and sat back; he stared into Alicia’s eyes the entire time.
“I’m the one who is supposed to be asking the questions,” replied Alicia. Her cheeks were flushed, and she knew his game. She stood up and turned around to look out the window.
Damn blue eyes and black hair. Gets to me every time.
My God, her ass is perfect, Ian was thinking as he watched her. Her dress was sleeveless and simple. Its red bottom fit her body like a glove and covered her ass and thighs so sensuously that Ian felt himself getting hard. Play this right, Forsythe. In and out, just like you planned, he thought. In and out. Damn, I wish!
“Shit!”
�
��Are you alright?” asked Alicia. Ian noticed she didn’t flinch when he swore. She didn’t turn around to help either. That was a first for Ian...
“Fine. Thanks for asking,” he responded with a bit of sarcasm. He said nothing more, and the room remained quiet for a while.
Alicia finally turned around and put the palms of her hands on her glass desk. Ian was thinking that she probably had Windex in her drawer to clean up the fingerprints. He smiled, slightly, and kept his eyes focused on Alicia’s.
“I would like you to leave now, Mr. Forsythe. I knew that you weren't here for a matchmaking appointment the moment you walked in the room. I take my work very seriously, and you have wasted enough of my time already. ”