I asked a few more questions.
“You’re still reluctant? Unsure? Disbelieving?” There was nothing judgmental about her manner. She was extremely reassuring, kind, and confident.
I bit my lip, hesitating.
“If this is going to work,” she said, “you need to confide in me. We have to be honest with each other.”
“This is going to sound bad.” My heart raced. “It’s, well, bad timing. Just this week I met someone who…”
Her sympathetic expression encouraged me to continue.
“Someone who makes me feel like I’ve never felt before.” I almost blushed. “But don’t worry. He’s not the committed type. He’s like all the other guys, just wanted to hook up. I can be completely professional. I’m eager to throw myself into this—”
Ashley frowned. “Who is this man? Describe him to me. If we can dissect what makes him so appealing, we can use it to our advantage in the matching process.”
“No one,” I said. It seemed stupid to mention Knox’s name. “I have a bad track record of picking men that are bad to me and for me.”
Her frown didn’t relent. “Would it help if I talked to him? I’m an exceptional judge of character and compatibility. I could determine quickly whether the two of you are compatible enough to have a good chance of success. If he is, I could coach him and coax him into our dating database or sign him on as a client. Then you could be legitimately paired with him and not be in violation of our contract or risk your job with us.”
I chewed my lip, a bad, nervous habit I usually managed to avoid. “I don’t think he’d be up for that.” I took a deep breath. I was blowing this. I didn’t want to lose this job. “It’s probably nothing more than hero worship. It’s hard not to fall a little in love with a guy who saves your life.” Did I just say “fall in love”?
Ashley looked shocked. She quickly caught herself and adjusted her face to a calmer, friendlier look. “Are we talking about Knox? Knox Emerson?”
I nodded. “Yes. I’m surprised you remember his name.” Something about her manner struck me as odd. She was both amused and surprised. With an undercurrent of anger, maybe. “You know him?”
“Yes, to be honest,” she said. “I do. I’ve known Knox for years. He was my late husband’s best friend. And one of my clients until I put him on hiatus a few weeks ago.”
I had to keep from letting my jaw drop. “He’s a client of Pair Us?”
“He didn’t tell you?” She looked almost resigned.
“No,” I said slowly, surprised and feeling betrayed. “He never mentioned it.”
“Oh, Knox,” she said softly. Her eyes narrowed. She looked as though a thought had just occurred to her. “Other than wanting to hook up, do you think he feels the same about you?”
I nodded, miserable, anger at him rising. “I thought so. I think so. We had a great time on the shoot. I thought we connected. Though, clearly, he’s keeping things from me.”
“Don’t be too hard on Knox. I can’t say more. Client confidentiality. But he really is a good guy. Handsome. Fun. Witty. And a great dancer. Used to be a good pianist, too.” She smiled suddenly, looking like she was trying not to break out laughing. “Sorry. It’s too much. If you’re right about his interest, I can help you. I have his profile. It’s easy enough for me to compare it to yours for compatibility.”
I wasn’t sure I wanted her to now. I was stinging from his lie of omission. And curious as to why he was on hiatus. “Is it typical for clients to go on hiatus?”
“Not typical,” she said. “But it happens. Sometimes clients just need a break from the search to reassess their objectives and recommit to the search. We all need a breather now and then.”
It was hard not to trust her. She sounded sensible and reasonable.
She set her laptop down on the table. “The good news for you is that I know Knox very well. I know what makes him tick. I know what’s holding him back. It’s nothing major. Once he finds the right woman, it will disappear with just a gentle nudge. But. If you two are compatible, we’ll need a very deliberate strategy.”
Lazer
Ashley slipped into my office unannounced.
“Hey,” I said, getting up from my chair to wrap my arms around her and kiss her. Seeing her during work hours was always the best part of my day. “To what do I owe this unexpected pleasure?”
She kissed me deeply and stroked my face. “What game are you playing, Lazer?”
I frowned. “I’m playing many games. Which one are you talking about?” I tried to look as innocent as possible, but I had a good idea which one she was referring to.
“Callie, our new spokesmodel, just left my office a little while ago.”
“Did she?” I kissed Ashley again. Distraction is the better part of valor. She was sure the hell distracting me. My thoughts ran toward locking my office door.
She stepped out of my embrace. “She did. She told me a very interesting story about modeling with Knox. And falling for him. And him seeming very interested in her.” She pinned me with her gaze. “What are you up to? What have you done? Are you playing matchmaker? Because if you are…”
She took a deep breath. “You’re brilliant somehow. And I want to know how you did it. I just ran it. Knox’s profile isn’t compatible with Callie’s. And yet they’re clearly into each other…” She raised her eyebrows.
“Yeah. About that,” I said, trying not to let my elation at being such a damned brilliant matchmaker show. The guys and I had done it. “Caught and caught. And I am genius. I was going to come clean. Eventually.”
She crossed her arms. “I’m listening.”
“You’d better have a seat.” I took her elbow and led her to a plush chair in my seating area. “This is a long story. The ‘too long to listen, did not finish’ version is—Knox lied on his Pair Us profile. Deliberately, to throw you off and make sure you didn’t find him a match? To match you more closely and give himself a better shot with you? Unintentionally trying to please you? Only Knox knows.” I told her the whole, longwinded, contorted story.
She slid out of her chair and joined me on the sofa. “Knox and I are a good match, even without him cheating.”
She brushed my hair across my forehead and looped her arm through mine, resting her chin on my shoulder. “If not for you, I could have been very happy with him, Mr. Perfect Match of Mine. But now that I’ve had a taste of a perfect match, there’s no going back. His cheating was all in vain. And only hurt him.”
I stroked her hair. “You don’t sound too surprised.”
“I knew something was off,” she said. “Which, to be honest, is why I matched him with women more by gut feel than with data and match percentages. Data is all very good, but it isn’t perfect. It gives the client more confidence than mere intuition, which is partly why I use it. I played around with matching Knox with women with varying characteristics, searching in the dark for the magic combination and that elusive physical chemistry.”
She kissed my cheek and sat up straight, removing her chin from my shoulder. Damn, she smelled good.
“Unfortunately, I never had an exceptionally strong gut feeling about any of the women I paired him with. Bad luck that I didn’t stumble onto a strong candidate. It was a lose/lose situation. He had his mind set against anyone I set him up with, and I didn’t have a candidate shiny enough to overcome his resistance.” She got that determined, excited look on her face that I knew so well. “I have a feeling about Callie and Knox, though. I have since I walked in while you and Justin were interviewing her.” She shook her head. “Knox. You’re really blowing it.”
I shrugged. I didn’t mind seeing her angry at my nemesis. “Your intuition is never wrong, Ash. Your gut is right on the money.”
“What?” She took my hands. “What are you trying to tell me?”
“If our method is correct—and we have no reason to doubt it, especially given the recent anecdotal evidence—not only is Callie a match for Knox, she’s a
perfect match.” I couldn’t help grinning. “Which is why he can’t resist her.”
Ashley’s eyes went wide. She broke into a delicious smile. “A perfect match? What are the odds? You’re kidding?”
“Nope. Not kidding. We had to scour the Internet to find her, but…” I shook my head. “As much as it pains me to give this guy all the happiness in the world, I’m doing this for us. I wouldn’t mind, however, tormenting him a little in the process.”
“You’re beautifully cruel,” Ashley said. “Not that I blame you.”
“I’m practical,” I said. “I understand the game. I understand men. At heart, we’ll all hunters and cavemen. The chase is a vital part of the thrill. That which is easily won isn’t as valuable as that which you have to work for.”
“Good point, Ugg.”
“I prefer Zog, if you don’t mind.”
She kissed me quickly. “What now, my darling, brilliant Zog? What’s the plan? And don’t play coy with me. I know you have one.”
Her faith in me was just one of the reasons I loved her. “If we’re going to win this one, we need Callie to play it the way we instruct her.”
“Agreed,” Ash said. “We need her in on this.”
“What else did she say about Knox? Is she afraid dating him will put her job with us in jeopardy? The forbidden fruit—that’s part of the plan.”
“I assured her we’d work with her so there’s no question of breach of contract. I also told her Knox is a client. We can use that. Lazer, this could be a big boon to our ad campaign.” She paused. “The campaign isn’t just a setup, is it?”
I squeezed her hand. “Not just. Did Callie give you any indication of how interested Knox is? Is he ready to abandon his stupid vow to Ruck yet?”
“She doesn’t know about the vow, obviously. I’m not going to tell her. Knox wanted Callie to hook up with him.”
I laughed. “Of course he did. She’s fucking gorgeous. A guy would have to be blind—”
Ashley raised an eyebrow.
I held my hands up. “Just saying. In my playboy days, I would have given a hookup a shot, too.”
“She turned him down,” Ashley said wryly. “She made it clear her hookup days were behind her, too. Thanks to us. Or you. She told him about the conditions of working for Pair Us.”
I couldn’t help laughing. “She is into him.”
“You thought ahead to this, too. You want to dangle her over his head, a tasty bunch of grapes he can’t have.”
“Always think several steps ahead.” Damn, I was pleased with myself. “Sounds, too, like he was hoping to use the old get-her-out-of-his-system move.”
“You could be right,” she said.
“Our plan’s working beautifully. If I’m right, one taste of the forbidden fruit will never be enough for him.”
“One taste of a perfect match never is.” She kissed me again.
We had to time this right and make sure he was really on the line before we made any rash moves. We had to dangle those grapes out of his grasp a while longer.
“You look like you’re concocting evil,” Ashley said.
“Processing new information and tweaking our master plan.” I rubbed my chin.
Ashley got a devilish twin to my grin. “What do we do now?”
“Keep dangling our bait,” I said. “Judge our subject’s jealousy level. And make him beg for her.”
“I like the way your mind works,” she said. “It was your plan all along to throw them together and make them get to know each other. I should have guessed Justin and the guys were your accomplices. Still, it’s brilliant. It would be nice if we could judge where Knox’s heart is.”
“Jus thinks he’s hooked.” I paused. “Tomorrow we begin filming our campaign, the lonely ‘before’ shots. The Flash event goes live next week. I’ve seen some of the shots—stunning and evocative. Definite chemistry between Callie and Knox. If some of them don’t go viral…” I grinned. “I’ll make sure they get a push. How soon can you start sending Callie out on match dates?”
“I’ve shown her a list of candidates already,” she said.
“Good. We’ll have to make sure those dates get plenty of exposure. Make it so Knox can’t miss them,” I said. “Let me fill you in on the plan.”
14
Knox
Plan B—I cyberstalked Callie, friend requesting her on every site I could think of. She turned down every request. You might think I’d get the message, but I didn’t. I had this idea that if she saw how desperate I was to see her, it would soften her heart.
I tried a phone search online and came up empty. I did everything short of calling Ashley to beg her for Callie’s contact information. I didn’t want to tip my hand. Ashley wouldn’t have given it to me anyway without Callie’s permission. She might have passed along a message. Last resort, man. Last resort.
I spent a miserable week. Then the Pair Us commercials and ads featuring Callie started appearing everywhere. Callie talking about her ideal man, encouraging guys to sign up—they might be her ideal match! Gag.
I couldn’t get away from them. They were ubiquitous. I saw one on the bus that ran past the ferry terminal. There was even a billboard on Bainbridge near where I lived.
If I were paranoid, I would have thought they were following me around. Everywhere I went on the Internet, there was Callie’s gorgeous face and her words about searching for her soul mate. How much were Lazer and Ashley spending on this campaign? And why was I in their target audience? Oh. Yeah. Single. Male. Over thirty. And a client on hiatus.
As if that wasn’t bad enough, the Flash event went live. I got a call from Peter—the event was one of Flash’s most successful ever. And had I seen? Several of the photos had gone viral worldwide. His pictures were a sensation. Callie and I were a sensation. He was probably going to win an award. Flash would win an advertising award. They had to. This was big.
Had I seen? Hell yes. I couldn’t escape them. Everywhere I looked: Callie and me smiling at each other, looking longingly into each other’s eyes, me slipping a ring on her robotic finger—that one was a favorite. The one of her robotic hand stroking my face was another crowd pleaser. They were great publicity for Flash and Callie. And misery making for me.
I thought the first two weeks were hell. Then Callie’s dates started, with all the commercials surrounding them. Callie out with a variety of good-looking guys, smiling at them. Laughing with them. Looking longingly into their eyes.
I thought I could get her out of my mind. But somehow she was even more deeply embedded. I was so jealous that I was on the verge of exploding. I had to see her again. Finally, I got my break. Callie was doing a bridal show in Tacoma.
Despite being one half of the viral sensation of a wedding shoot, wedding shit wasn’t my thing, but I had to see her. I sucked it up.
I got to the wedding fair early and stood in line with a bunch of brides-to-be and their moms, mostly. A few grooms who were probably dragged there in the name of domestic happiness. A few gay grooms who seemed excited. And me.
It was an unfortunate choice of events to try to see Callie at. I was recognized almost immediately. My hand gave me away. Everyone in line wanted to see it work. To shake my hand. To gush about how romantic those pictures were.
“Are you a groom in real life?” “That is just so awesome that you’re here! Will you be giving a talk? Is there a photo op with you?” I posed for a lot of selfies. “Not many men have the confidence to come to a bridal fair.” The comments and questions were endless.
Inside the venue, I was handed a goody bag. The lady at the door wore an apron with pockets full of bride and mother-of-the-bride buttons. When she saw me, her face lit up. “A groom! At last. I thought I was never going to get rid of these groom buttons.” She pinned a groom button to my lapel before I could stop her. What did I care? It made life easier.
I shoved my left hand into my pocket, trying to go incognito, wishing for the millionth time I’d worn my cosmet
ic fingers. Without my showy prosthetic, I doubted I would have been recognized in the wild without my groom attire. I could have at least shrugged off any similarity. The entire floor of the venue was filled with wedding vendors—photographers, bakeries, caterers, florists, wedding planners, and bridal shops.
Every booth I walked by, someone leaned out to hand me a brochure or a sample. It was impossible to escape them. Wearing that groom button was like having a target on my chest.
“Have you booked your venue yet?” “Free cake tastings.” “Come try a sample of our wedding buffet menu. Quotes available upon request.”
It was awkward as hell grabbing everything with my right hand and stuffing it into my goody bag that was hooked over my left, with my hand in my pocket. Or eating one-handed.
I will say this—a guy could make a meal out of the free samples of catering and cake. And if I had been getting married, I definitely had my preferences about whom I’d hire.
In the hour I had to kill before the fashion show Callie was in began, my goody bag was stuffed to bulging. And I’d bonded through sympathetic looks with the other, presumably real, grooms I’d made eye contact with at the fair.
Well before the show began, I wormed my way in and got a seat in the front row next to the catwalk. I wanted Callie to see me. The other women must have thought I was a bridal gown fanatic.
“Has your bride picked her dress yet?” the woman who took the seat next to me asked. Next to her, her daughter listened intently.
“No,” I said.
She looked around, read my groom button, looked around some more. “Where’s your bride-to-be?”
“Sick,” I lied. “We were supposed to come together. I’m here taking it all in so she can live vicariously through me.” I hefted my goody bag. “She’ll be excited to see all the swag I got her.”
The woman got a rapturous look on her face. A tear formed in her eye. “Isn’t that sweet? Aren’t you adorable? Your bride is a lucky woman.”
Oh, yeah. Sure.
The glow and goodwill lasted until the show started and Callie walked down the catwalk. My heart stood still as she walked toward me. She was just as gorgeous as always. In that dress, she looked so much like she had at our shoots. Memories came back unbidden. My body reacted to her the way it had since we first met.
Mr. Accidental Groom Page 13