An Ellora’s Cave Romantica Publication
www.ellorascave.com
Second Sight Dating
ISBN 9781419909245
ALL RIGHTS RESERVED.
Second Sight Dating Copyright© 2007 Marianne Stephens
Edited by Helen Woodall.
Cover art by Syneca.
Electronic book Publication May 2007
The terms Romantica® and Quickies® are registered trademarks of Ellora’s Cave Publishing.
With the exception of quotes used in reviews, this book may not be reproduced or used in whole or in part by any means existing without written permission from the publisher, Ellora’s Cave Publishing Inc., 1056 Home Avenue, Akron, OH 44310-3502.
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This book is a work of fiction and any resemblance to persons, living or dead, or places, events or locales is purely coincidental. The characters are productions of the authors’ imagination and used fictitiously.
SECOND SIGHT DATING
Marianne Stephens
Acknowledgement
Loving thanks to Steve (my computer wizard husband), my family, and wonderful friends in MRW, MARA, and my critique group for their support.
Trademarks Acknowledgement
The author acknowledges the trademarked status and trademark owners of the following wordmarks mentioned in this work of fiction:
Boy Scouts: Boy Scouts of America Corporation
Cheesecake Factory: Great World Foods, Inc
Honda Accord: Honda Motor Co., Ltd
Macaroni Grill: Brinker International
Mazda: Mazda Motor Corporation
Ouija: Hasbro, Inc.
Sprint: Sprint Communications Company L.P. US Telecom, Inc.
Zio’s: Mazzio’s Corporation
Chapter One
“I want him, not that other one you just showed me. Look at this guy,” Miss “K” rattled on with a pout, a blue-polished fingernail pointing at a picture of Mr. “Thirty-six”. “He’s a hunk.”
Thirty-year-old Serena Xavier, owner of Second Sight Dating, listened to her female client’s whiny demand while silently cursing her clumsy trip over the slippery office rug. The unexpected dilemma and now cog-in-the-wheel of her usually perfect operating system, irked her.
Miss “K” had sniffed indifferently at the bio and picture of Mr. “Twenty-five”, the first-choice match presented to her. With hesitation, Serena offered to try a second number.
She’d grabbed a few folders from her desk to lessen the clutter and, in a hurry to reach her filing cabinet in the backroom, tripped over the rug, sending three folders scattering on the floor. A picture of Mr. “Thirty-six” had slid from its folder and Miss “K” riveted her attention on it like a lioness spotting her prey and eager to pounce.
“He’s not the one for you.” As Serena took her seat again, she did her best to present a sincere, efficient and credible explanation to match her words. “I don’t just consider looks. I analyze everything. You came here because you wanted someone right for you. Yes, he’s handsome, but there’s more to it than that.”
“What more do I need? For Christ’s sake, he’s wearing a lab coat and stethoscope so I’m guessing he’s a doctor.” Miss “K” raised her head up a notch as if ready to make an important point. “I’m in the medical field. How much more compatible do we need to be?”
As far as Serena was concerned, the twenty-nine-year-old bleached blonde client promptly massacred any semblance of credibility she’d hoped to display by twirling a loose curl and cracking her gum…again…for about the fiftieth time since entering the office. With one leg crossed over the other, she repeatedly tapped her foot. All three actions—the curl twirling, gum cracking and foot tapping—ceased every time Miss “K” spoke. Apparently the woman couldn’t talk and do those at the same time.
A quick glance at Bachelor Thirty-six’s application indicated that the ditsy, gorgeous, leggy, Miss “K” possessed some qualities topping his “What I’m Looking For” list. Unfortunately, not much else, including their backgrounds, came close to signaling a match. His degree from Harvard and hers from Wayne’s Quick & Easy Business School, pushed them further apart from being compatible. “Miss Sight”, Serena’s name at the business, realized the two singles wouldn’t work.
That’s what her job was all about—pairing couples she knew would match based on her numbering male clients and lettering female clients system. Love connections took more than resorting to resumes and lists of wants and desires, in spite of what most people thought. They needed Serena’s expertise to guarantee compatibility. They needed assurances of matching innermost thoughts and finding a true soul mate. In short, they needed her second sight—the one she couldn’t explain—that told her if two people were meant for each other.
Mentally counting to twenty since ten wouldn’t come close to what was needed, Serena geared herself for battle, although fully prepared to eventually back off. The few times a client didn’t opt for Serena’s first choice, she’d offer a refund or another less compatible match, minus a guarantee of success.
“Miss ‘K’, I haven’t forgotten that you’re a clerk in a medical center’s administration department. But you came here knowing I do this by intuition, a gut feeling I get. Your friend, Miss ‘Z’, followed my advice and that’s why you’re here, right?”
The woman pouted again. Serena could almost imagine hearing the sounds of wheels turning in her client’s head if she didn’t already know Miss “K” was a few checkers short of a game.
“So, you helped Jennifer. But I really think you’re wrong about him.” She pointed again to the glossy photo and licked her lips. “Match me with him. He’s drop-dead gorgeous. We’ll make a great-looking couple. Your radar must not be working today.”
Resigned to backing off, Serena let out a deep exhale as she rummaged through her papers and handed one to Miss “K”. “I strive to please my customers. If you’ll just sign here releasing me from my guarantee, I’ll get a meeting arranged for the two of you. Assuming, of course, he agrees to meet with you.” She offered a pasted-on smile.
Her client frowned, but grabbed the paper and signed. “Fine. He will, once he reads my résumé and sees my picture. So, do I wait for you to call?”
Serena nodded and got up, leaving the woman no choice but to follow suit. “As stated in the contract, I’ll arrange your first meeting somewhere surrounded by other people so neither party feels obligated to continue the evening if things don’t work out. Nothing fancy, just a quick dinner somewhere nearby for both of you. You pay your own way and then it’s up to you two how the evening ends.”
“Great. He’ll wanna meet me. I’m not worried.”
That said, the soon-to-be-disappointed client popped her gum one last time as she sashayed out the office door. Serena had no option but to pick up the phone and place a call asking Mr. “Thirty-six” to come in for another interview.
He’d already rejected the first bachelorette she’d offered and now would get her honest opinion of matching him with “Miss “K”. If he ignored her warning, he’d sign a guarantee waiver and the two would meet. Their disastrous relationship would be
gin and soon end with an equally miserable breakup.
That, she could guarantee.
* * * * *
“I’m here to see Miss Sight.”
A sexy-looking man, framed by her doorway, jolted Serena’s heart. Beating an overtime rhythm, she chalked it up to the fact that he’d startled her. It had nothing to do with his being the proverbial tall, dark and handsome.
“I’m, uh, Miss Sight. Welcome to Second Sight Dating. May I help you?”
“I got this gift certificate from some friends.” He gave a quick cursory glance around the office. “How legitimate is this business?”
He sounded skeptical, ill-at-ease and completed that appearance with the defensive stance of a definite nonbeliever. Too bad he’d be someone she’d find difficult to deal with. The man could be appealing if he’d only stop frowning.
“I’ve been in business for two years. Check out the licenses on the wall to the left of the door before you decide if you want to go any further. If you have any questions, I’ll be happy to answer them.” Unwilling to make any further comment, Serena purposely lowered her gaze to her desk, feigning interest in whatever she’d been reading.
He coughed, catching her attention. “That won’t be necessary. What do I do first?”
Smiling would be a good start. I know there’s a dimple there somewhere.
“Why don’t you have a seat? You can fill out the application form. I tell everyone up front that I check places of employment and look for police records. Do you object to my doing that?”
“No. Why? Do you sense I do?”
Man, this one would be a challenge. Strange. Other than her pulse slightly racing, Serena didn’t get any initial “vibes” from him at all. Only once before had her “sight” not worked. Her disastrous attempt at finding a match for herself had turned out to be a doozy of a failure.
The well-built hunk left the doorway and strolled in. The closer he got to her, the more the light scent of his aftershave mingled in the air. Serena recognized the fragrance as one she adored and tried to halt breathing in too deeply. He lowered himself into the seat opposite her, giving her ample time to survey his features. Wavy, jet-black hair, the type women loved to run their fingers through, topped his head. His grayish, steel-colored eyes commanded her attention as they became darker the longer she stared at him.
He filled out his form-fitted shirt to a “T”, muscles bulging and hinting at a well-toned body, maybe thanks to exercise. Serena let her mind wander for a few seconds, contemplating how he’d look in gym clothes doing push-ups, toe touches, sit-ups…
“Do I pass inspection?”
Heat careened up her neck to her face. What the hell was wrong with her, ogling a client?
“Oh, sorry. I was trying to get a ‘feel’ for you. That’s what I do here. Let my intuition, what I call my ‘second sight’, take over. It tells me about a person.”
The man’s mouth turned up slightly in each corner. He tilted his head, as if angling for a better view of her. Yep, there was a dimple, just on the left side. The one she knew would be there.
“So, explain exactly how this works. Do you gaze into a crystal ball and conjure up dead spirits?”
Ice water flooded her veins. It figured. In front of her sat the sexiest man she’d met in a long time. His strapping physique and wonderful aftershave had clouded her insight. A momentary loss of mind control had allowed her brain to maneuver a slight detour from sanity, but that was over.
Annoyed with his remark, she stiffened her spine and readied herself to dismiss him and his irritating attempt at humor. To hell if he was handsome. She wasn’t in the mood or business to tolerate skeptics.
“I’m sorry you came all this way in the hopes of finding entertainment. You’re no comedian and I don’t perform, either. I’ll be happy to refund the amount of your certificate.”
Serena rose quickly from her seat and stepped around her desk. She tripped over her blasted rug again as she approached the man in his chair, losing her balance. She reached out to steady herself but faster than she could imagine, he jumped up and caught her before she hit the floor.
His arms surrounded her in an effort to break her fall. Heat cascaded through her body the closer he tugged her to him. Letters popped into her head, over and over again.
That’s the pattern her “sight” followed. When she touched a man, she’d see a letter for a woman listed in her files. When she touched a woman, she’d see a number for a man who’d be a good match. But never before had three letters or numbers materialized for anyone. It had always been one letter or number per person.
This stud, and he definitely fit the category, filled her with conflicting thoughts of warmth, security and irritation as he squeezed her tighter into his embrace. Her heart beat in double-time rhythm.
Serena fought to regain control of her senses. He was a client. She ran a business. Professionalism and composure needed to be employed.
“Are you okay? Sorry about my lousy attempt at humor. Just trying to calm my nerves. I’m kinda having a hard time admitting I need help. Please, I want to do this.” His voice, barely above a whisper, tickled her ear, the one his lips lightly grazed as he spoke.
Do what? Lord, she could imagine lots of things two people locked in an embrace could do that weren’t remotely related to her job. Forcing herself to breathe normally, she focused her unnervingly wayward thoughts on a key word, job. She did have a job to do.
He needs help finding women? Was he some type of genius business geek who’d been locked away but now ready to test the waters of the dating pool? With her last shred of strength, she pulled away. Contact gone, the letters stopped their unending dance in her head.
“Apology accepted. I’m fine. Thank you.” While swearing under her breath to fix the damn rug, she straightened her clothes. A slight chill covered her body. Short of putting on a jacket or sweater, neither of which she had, not much could be done. Serena quickly crossed her arms in front of her, chiding herself for letting him affect her. No other client had come close to messing with her body chemistry.
“Let’s start over. I’m Dan Reese and I’d like to use this certificate.”
His smile undid her. The chilly sensation in the air disappeared and Serena relaxed her stance.
Dan sat again in his seat, a sensation of loss without her in his arms frustrating his body.I hope you’re on my list. She fit so perfectly next to him, her long, leggy body lined up against his. She had to be just a few inches shorter than his six-foot height. Her shape? Men would crave to touch that body.
Everywhere.
Her auburn hair fell freely around her face, framing it with short, delicate curls. Those lips, full and painted some shade of dark pink, begged for attention. Light, chocolate-brown colored eyes sparkled with flecks of green and changed in intensity the more he stared at her.
She’d captured his attention all right, if the prickly hairs on the back of his neck were any indication of sparking his interest. A lower portion of his body hadn’t missed responding to the delightful sensation of having her pressed against him.
Sitting gave him the edge in getting his libido and all visible signs of it, under control. His undercover job required a cool head and level thinking. Any hormonal reaction would have to take a back burner.
“What do I do first?”
Serena nodded, accepting his willingness to start anew. She offered him a handful of papers. “Fill out these forms. If there’s anything you don’t want to answer, let me know. Some information is vital, other stuff is optional.”
Dan quickly scanned the forms and noticed they asked standard questions he’d come across on everything from car loan applications to job searches. He began writing, but stopped at the preference list.
Eyeing her, he decided to list her physical qualities as to what he wanted in a woman. Career and education requirements could vary, although he did hope to be paired with someone who could carry on an intelligent conversation.
&n
bsp; For this case, gritting his teeth while posing as an insurance salesman needing help to find a love match got the detective through the door. He used his standard choice of names as a cover, that of Daniel Reese. Easy enough to remember as Dan was his first name and Reese, his middle name. To ensure his sanity remained intact, complications and headaches involving simpering, clingy, self-centered women had to be avoided at all costs.
“Here.” He handed her his form. “I guess I’ve done my part. Now what?”
“If you’ll stand over by the door, I’ll take your picture.”
“Be sure and get my best side,” he quipped as he grinned for the camera.
“And, that would be where?” Serena shot back, making a mental note that the man could display a sense of humor when he wasn’t challenging her. After taking two quick shots, one close-up and one full-length, both returned to their seats.
Her eyes roamed the questionnaire before she spoke. Silence, except for the ticking of a cuckoo clock, reigned in the small office.
“Now,” she voiced with a slight quiver, “I need to touch you.”
“Anywhere in particular?” Dan drawled, blood pumping faster through his veins at the mere thought of her hands on him.
“Your hand will do. For now.” Her lazy grin pushed his sex drive button again…the one that seemed to be permanently switched on since he’d walked through her door.
Dan held out his hand, palm side up and rested it on her desk. Her fingertips traced a line from his wrist to his fingers then back again. His breathing sped up while he watched in fascination at her slight touches. Her eyes closed and he detected a low sigh, almost like a moan, escape from her lips.
The same letters as before rampaged through her head. Hmm. She had women with those letters, but none of them would be a match for him, from what she could remember of their resumes.
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