“Ms. Campbell.” Grayson shook my hand warmly and firmly. He was the master of the perfect grip. “Lazer Grayson. Everyone calls me Lazer. And this is Justin Green, my business partner in Flashionista.”
“Callie,” I said as I shook the other billionaire’s hand. He was cute, though not as hot as Lazer.
“Justin,” he said.
“Can I get you anything before I leave?” Lottie asked.
“We’re fine,” Lazer said. “Callie? Anything for you?”
I was too nervous for anything. The last thing I needed was to spill water down my front. “I’m good.”
Lazer offered me a seat in a comfortable corner of the office furnished with a sofa and several large leather chairs. I took a chair and set my arm case next to me. I could feel them looking at me without trying to overtly stare. They were actually very good at masking their scrutiny. Being under the microscope and having your looks evaluated for every tiny flaw was a part of the job. It had taken time to get used to and had nothing, really, to do with my arm, which was the usual cause of staring in my world. My looks were my trade. They had the right to inspect me. If I was going to be the face of their businesses, they had to be assured mine was the right face.
Both of them had penetrating expressions and seemed almost amused. Lazer shot Justin a quick raised eyebrow, as if signaling him of something or sharing an inside joke. The atmosphere was friendly, but different than any interview I’d been on before. I relaxed a little.
“Let’s get right down to business,” Lazer said. “Did your agency explain what we have in mind?”
“Just the basics. You want a spokesmodel,” I said to Lazer. I turned to Justin. “And you want a model for a new bridal wear event, or series of events for Flashionista.”
Both men nodded.
“That’s right.” Lazer’s smile was warm, and almost mischievous.
The feeling that he and Justin were conspiring on some inside information wouldn’t leave me. And that they were immensely proud of themselves. That was all probably my vivid imagination at work. But I was sure I wasn’t imagining how impressed they were with me already. I’d been to enough interviews to have a sense for when things were going well.
“I have a good grip of what being the face of Pair Us entails. I was our first,” Lazer said. “I found my match, Ashley. My four good friends succeeded me as a sort of joint face of the company. Now that they’re happily matched, we’re looking for a new spokesmodel. This will be the first time we’re looking for a spokesmodel who wasn’t involved in our founding. We’re being very particular in our selection.” He made it sound like a huge compliment to be considered to be the first outsider for the job. “Before we continue, I have to tell you that this job is a little unusual and not for everyone.”
I nodded, heart racing. “Yes.” I wanted it to be for me.
“I’m not sure you fully understand,” Lazer said. “Ashley and I are looking for a spokesmodel who will do endorsements. The person we hire for the job will have to fully and enthusiastically sign on as a full-fledged, soul-mate-seeking client of the agency. We’ll be offering our new spokesmodel a six-month endorsement contract, which can be extended to a year if necessary.” He paused to let the full impact of his statement settle in on me.
Somehow, my heart managed to race even faster. Endorsement model. I’d never done that before. Nor had I considered using a matchmaker.
Although his posture remained casual and friendly, Lazer’s expression became serious. He studied me with even more scrutiny. “Our product isn’t like sports shoes, toothpaste, face cream, or new roofs. It’s much more personal and requires a certain set of attributes.
“We’re screening candidates slightly differently than you’re probably used to. Yes, if you meet our qualifications, we’ll have Justin’s photographer take some candids and a video screen test, like most potential models. But first, we have to ask some critical questions. If you have any objections, now’s the time to voice them.”
My mouth was dry. I couldn’t believe I was seriously considering using a matchmaker. An endorsement contract would mean I had to use the services and give them my enthusiastic approval. “Go ahead.”
“You’ve probably already guessed the most obvious—are you single and available to date? We’re not looking for someone who’s currently in a committed relationship.”
“I’m very single.” That was too true.
“Being single isn’t enough in this case. We want someone who’s serious about finding their soul mate. There’s no guarantee and no requirement that you leave this job engaged or married or in a committed relationship. But we need you open to the possibility and willing to go on match dates.
“You’d have to fill out all of our dating profiles and take all of our personality tests. You’d have personal one-on-one coaching with Ashley. Do date postmortems. Part of our campaign would be following you on the journey. If that’s not for you, we understand. It’s not for everyone.”
You could call me jaded about dating. I wasn’t convinced that even Seattle’s top matchmaking company could find me a man I’d want. I’d done many strange things in the name of work. Dating wouldn’t be the strangest. I wanted this job.
“I’m not opposed,” I said, honestly. “But I’m going to be a challenge.” I waited for him to reassure me that my arm wouldn’t be a challenge to overcome.
“We thrive on challenges.” Lazer shot Justin another one of those looks.
My brow furrowed. What were they up to? I smoothed my furrow away, forcing a friendly look. Always look upbeat during an interview. “I’ve dated a lot of frogs. Way, way too many frogs. Such froggy frogs there was no way they’d ever become princes in anyone’s mind. I’m in no way interested in marrying a frog, cohabitating with a frog, or attaching my life in any way to one. Especially an unemployed sponger frog, as so many of them are.”
“Oh, I screen those out. They don’t make it into my dating database.”
I turned to look at the woman who’d spoken.
She was stylish and beautiful, totally pulled together, and smiling broadly as she approached us.
“That’s my job as your matchmaker, to make sure the duds never get near you. It’s one of the main advantages in going with a real, live, caring, compassionate, romantic human over an online service with its AI and bots.” She snorted prettily. How was that even possible? “The douches get past them, but not past me. Can you find a match through an online service? Absolutely. But I’ll save you a lot of time and heartache. My clients are busy, discerning people.”
She extended a perfectly manicured hand to me. “Ashley Harte. Call me Ashley. Sorry I’m late. A client meeting went long.” She took a seat next to Lazer. “Have you convinced Callie yet to take a chance on us?”
Her words warmed my heart.
“I’m trying,” Lazer said. “You showed up just in time. I could use reinforcements. I was just about to present our exclusivity clause.”
“Ah.” Ashley patted his hand. “Don’t let me interrupt.”
He rolled his eyes playfully. “I was hoping you’d handle it.”
She curled her fingers around his hand. “You got this.”
“I was afraid you’d say that.” He turned his attention to me. “As part of our endorsement contract, we’ll require that our spokesmodel exclusively dates matches made by Pair Us during that time. Just like athletes who endorse sportswear can only be seen wearing the brand they endorse in public, it wouldn’t serve us well to have our endorser find her match on her own.”
“So if I meet a hot guy at a bar?” I asked.
“Sign him up as a Pair Us client,” Ashley said. “I’ll screen him and see if he truly is a match for you. If he is, we’ll pair you.”
I thought about it a minute. The room was tensely quiet. “Sounds fair,” I said. “I have a question of my own. Is it because of this?” I held up my cyborg-like arm.
Both men’s eyes lit up.
“Spe
aking for Flash, that arm is awesome,” Justin said. “And so are you. We’re well aware of your growing reputation as the face of the bridal industry here locally. And we’d like to capitalize on that and use it to our advantage in our launch into the competitive bridal industry. We have several exciting emerging wedding designers we’ve convinced to let us showcase in events. We’ve promised them an innovative event.”
Lazer nudged him. “Hasn’t anyone taught you how to negotiate? You’re making her sound too valuable. Tone it down before she ups her rates already.”
Justin winked at him. “Got it.” He looked at me and hitched a thumb at Lazer. “He can’t stop mentoring me.”
The two were clearly having fun. And Justin was good cop. He seemed very astute. He hadn’t slipped up. The sense of fun was contagious and put me at ease.
“As for us,” Ashley said, “we like your spirit. You’re just the kind of upbeat, can-do, beat-the-odds, have-fun kind of woman we’d love to have represent us. And yes, your beauty in being born with a different body type than most of us is appealing to us.”
My beauty in being born with a different body type. I liked the way she put that. She’d sold me.
“There’s one more thing I do have to tell you,” Justin said. “If you’re a fan of Flash, you’ll know that we use both professional models and everyday people in our fashion shoots and on our site. Our clothes and events are for the average person. Affordable. Fashionable. Something for every body type.
“We frequently ask our customers to submit their photos to be considered to model in one of our fashion shoots. We always get a tremendous response to our calls. It’s helped us build an intimate rapport with our customers that’s rare in the online business world. It’s resulted in an almost fanatically loyal customer base. Our employees love it too. We feature them as well.
“This campaign and launch will be no different. You’ll be working with people who have no idea how to model. Our thought is to pair you with mostly amateur everyday men. We’ll have a complementary campaign with a professional male model and amateur bride models. We might even do a shoot with you and some of your matches from Pair Us to tie the promos together. How do you feel about working with laypeople?”
“Sign me up.” The more I heard, the more I wanted this job, even if it meant looking for the elusive soul mate.
We chatted a while longer. They asked me questions. I asked them some.
They were eager to see my arms. I opened my case and showed them my cosmetic arm and my wedding arm, which was a relatively inexpensive arm made on a 3D printer. Justin and Lazer were particularly interested in how the arms operated and were made.
I demonstrated how easy it was for me to change arms and what I could do with them. I was used to going through this kind of demonstration in a job interview. Some models were asked to strut around the room. I was asked to show off my prosthetic arms and high-tech gadgetry.
I reached a key point in the demonstration where I went naked real arm on them. “This is me. I’m a one-handed woman. That’s how I see myself. I’m a one-handed woman in a two-handed world. It hasn’t slowed me down. But for your purposes, I don’t have a left hand.” I wiggled my arm and waved at them.
I had an elbow and a small, underdeveloped forearm with a stub at the end with little nubs that probably should have formed into fingers. “I have no left ring finger, which is rather key for a lot of bridal shoots. I prefer not to wear jewelry on my robotic arm and hand. The cosmetic and wedding arms are designed to be able to wear rings and bracelets.”
The three of them conferred. I had a feeling I knew what they were going to say—they liked the robotic arm. It was the coolest and the most functional, so I couldn’t blame them.
Justin said, “The three of us agree. Part of your personality that drew us to you is the way you use your arms as accessories and suit them to the occasion. How you use them is amazing to us. Speaking for Flash, we’d like to use all of your arms in our shoots, including the robotic arm, as you’re comfortable. It isn’t a barrier on our end. It’s a bonus feature. I think there are plenty of pictures we can shoot with you wearing it that don’t involve jewelry. Particularly in Flash’s case, we sell costume jewelry. But we’re not a fine jewelry site.”
If Justin wasn’t already married, I would have asked to be matched with him right there. I was already a little in love with him.
Lazer and Ashley agreed. How and when to use what arm was up to me. I was the expert.
The more we talked, the more I liked all of them. I could see myself working with and for them. Justin was sweet and self-deprecating, surprising for a billionaire. Lazer was confident and full of himself, but charming and so handsome that his arrogance hardly mattered. Ashley was intelligent and witty. She was someone I’d like as a friend. Hadn’t I recently complained that none of my friends were any help with finding a great guy? They’d sent me on too many bad blind dates and now they’d just given up. I was in real danger of finding myself as the only single woman among my group.
I realized, almost with a start, that I was excited. I wanted this job, badly. So badly that it was hard to contain myself. The atmosphere was so congenial, it was impossible to resist imagining myself here for regular visits. The pay and the boost to my portfolio weren’t bad, either.
Finally, Lazer said, “Justin brought Peter, his top photographer, with him. Let’s get some candid shots and see what we think. Then we’ll send you a few blocks away to our agency’s studio for a screen test. If we offer you this job, we’ll need you to do interviews and TV spots.”
4
Knox
As they say, another day, another match. Or maybe no one but those of us who are using a matchmaker say that. It was true nonetheless.
My weeks had a pattern, starting with Monday—call or meet with Ashley, my matchmaker, to do a date postmortem on the previous weekend’s date and give her feedback so she could, theoretically, pick a closer match next time. Put the moves on her. Get rebuked. Make a note to refine my moves to be more effective next time.
If Ashley didn’t already have a new group of women to show me on Monday, then Tuesday or Wednesday, get a new list of two or three potential new matches from her. Discuss them with her. Text the most likely choice. Feel out the potential match’s interest. If she seems open, ask her out. Friday or Saturday—go on the date, usually coffee. Sometimes breakfast or lunch. Very rarely dinner. I saved that for subsequent dates.
If a date goes well, give it a second date. So far, I’d never made it past the third date. By choice. Repeat ad infinitum.
Ashley has dozens of rules for her match relationships. The cardinal rule is no sex until the fifth date or until you decide to be exclusive. She likes to emphasize that she isn’t running a hookup service. Relationships, so she claims, have a better chance of sticking if you wait. In today’s world, I don’t know if that’s true. But I’ve seen some of those TV matchmakers who have the same rules. So who knows? All I knew was that I was growing tired of celibacy.
So far, I hadn’t found a way to separate Ashley from her billionaire. And she hadn’t found a way to pair me with someone else enticing enough to make me break my promise to Ruck. Or transfer my affections from her. Look, I’d been in love with Ashley for years. Getting me to fall out of love with her was going to take something monumental.
On Monday, as I got ready for work, I assumed, naturally, that this week would be the same as every other. I’d beaten my head against the wall that was Ashley’s resistance to Ruck’s wishes and our happy future together. But hope refused to die. Maybe this would be the week.
I lived on Bainbridge Island across Puget Sound from Seattle and ran my own business out of my home office. But I travelled into the city regularly by ferry. On those trips that coincided with Monday or Tuesday, I met with Ashley in person.
I took an early ferry so I could meet Ashley for breakfast at The Blackberry Café before heading to my first business meeting of the day just a fe
w blocks away. My date this past weekend was a nice woman, but the physical chemistry between us was completely AWOL. There was no chance in hell of ever kindling it.
I didn’t have much to say about the date. My date had looked good on paper. She’d been pleasant on the phone. Chemistry is hard to measure beforehand. You have to meet to find out if it’s there. And it wasn’t. Simple as that.
Ashley was already waiting for me at a table by the window, as usual. I rarely beat her to an appointment. She liked to be the first to arrive. I thought it was her version of a power play.
I waved to her from the sidewalk as I walked past her window outside and strolled into the café. The bakery hit me, as always, with the scent of fresh cinnamon rolls and coffeecake. It was a pleasant sort of blow to the senses. My stomach growled. I was hungry for many things. Breakfast was just one of them. The other was seated at her table with a cup of coffee in front of her.
Ashley rose and greeted me with a hug that I held on to longer than I should have. She felt right in my arms. I’d felt the physical pull toward her, the undeniable sizzle of chemistry with the first glimpse of her the very first time I met her. And I hated to admit that she was already married to Ruck. Who was my best Army buddy. I would have given my life for him, and yet I’d wanted his wife from the moment I laid eyes on her.
Sometimes I wondered what would happen if Ashley and I slept together. Just had sex. Once. Would it cure the fever? Or fuel it? Either way, it wouldn’t release me from the promise I’d made Ruck. Until Ashley was married to Lazer, I refused to give up my quest and my promise. Fortunately for me, the billionaire was in no hurry to set a date for the wedding. I intended to play that fatal mistake of his for what it was worth until the end.
Yeah, I was douchebag for wanting my late buddy’s wife. But chemistry is a natural process, an animal reaction. You don’t control the pull of nature. You can only control how you act on it.
Mr. Accidental Groom Page 4