Page 106 of The Business of Love Box Set 1: Books 1 - 4

JACKSON

T he twenty-year-old lanky valet driver looked from me to the car keys I’d just tossed in his hands. He blinked, straightened his posture, and gave me what I assumed was supposed to be a confident nod.

He handed me a chip with the number twenty-three on it. I tucked it in my pocket and joked with him not to dent my car.

“Oh, I won’t, sir. It’s in good hands with me.”

“I’m just pulling your leg,” I said. “Take it out around the block if you want.”

He blinked. “Pardon?”

“Take it out around the block. I’m going to be inside for at least two hours.”

He let out a nervous laugh and shook his head. “My boss would kill me. You know, insurance issues and liability and stuff.”

I shrugged. “Suit yourself.”

I left him standing at the curb staring at the keys in his hand and moved up to step through the front doors of the restaurant.

I was greeted by two smiling hostesses who took my name.

One of them escorted me to my table by the window.

I told her my companion would be arriving shortly and that I would wait to order any drinks until then.

I sat and waited for about fifteen minutes before my date arrived.

Her name was Lacy Cameron. She reminded me of a gazelle as she strode purposefully through the restaurant. She kept her chin up and she walked like she knew every man in the place was watching her pass.

Which they were.

Wives and girlfriends scowled at the men sitting across the table from them and skewered their salads resentfully when Lacy passed. When she arrived at my table, I got to my feet and greeted her with a hug.

She smelled like peppermint and sage.

Lacy flicked her long black hair over one shoulder and thanked me when I pulled her chair out for her.

She lowered herself down into it and I tucked her in.

As I took my seat across from her, she set her dainty gold clutch on the table and leaned back in her chair to cross one long leg over the other.

“I hope I didn’t make you wait too long,” Lacy said. “I got caught up in traffic. I always have the best intentions of arriving on time but it never seems to go according to plan when you’re in New York city, does it?”

I couldn’t say I agreed, seeing as how I’d shown up on time. “Well, you’re here now.” I smiled.

“That I am.”

I flagged down our server and ordered a bottle of wine to the table. Lacy took the first sip from a splash poured into her glass and nodded her agreement. “It’s lovely,” she said.

We spent the next ten minutes making small talk while we studied the menus.

We talked about the nonstop rain we’d been having and about the traffic and how nice the restaurant was.

By the time we covered a range of generic topics neither of us really cared about, the server returned and we put in our orders.

I ordered a steak and Lacy ordered a salad.

I shouldn’t have been surprised.

As I sat across from the beautiful young woman, I found myself wishing I was with Hailey. She’d have ordered something with substance. Something she would genuinely enjoy, considering the price tags at this place. Like a salmon filet or something more adventurous like a spicy curry dish.

But not Lacy.

She was as predictable as the other women I’d met online.

“Tell me about yourself, Jackson.” Lacy studied me from beneath her dramatic dark eyebrows and swirled her wine in her glass. “What is this matchmaking business of yours?”

Great . We were going to kick things off by talking about work.

In my experience, that was never a good sign.

“Well it’s pretty self-explanatory,” I said.

“I have a large client base that is continually growing, and when I have two people I know will be a good match, I put them together. Sometimes, based on the circumstances of course, I will play a role in how they get to know each other. For example, I’ll give them starting material to discuss to get the ball rolling and have a quick connection.

Or I’ll select the location for the first date. Stuff like that.”

“A matchmaker who’s single. Should I be worried that you’re a womanizer, sugar?”

I arched an eyebrow. Who was she calling sugar ?

“No, it’s just hard to make time for my own love life when I’m busy working on everyone else’s.”

“Charming.”

I wished I could say the same thing about her.

She was gorgeous, but this mysterious act she was putting on wasn’t my cup of tea.

I knew some clients who might like the dark-featured mystery girl, but I preferred someone who was open and honest and a bit silly.

Someone who could laugh at themselves and not take things too seriously even if we were sitting in an exceptionally glamorous restaurant.

“What do you do for work?” I asked. It seemed rude not to show interest.

“I’m a realtor,” she practically purred. “I have several listings in Manhattan and I work with upper-class clients to find them their dream homes. I bet you and I could share business, you know?”

I worked hard to stop myself from frowning. Talking about sharing business on a first date? Red flag.

“I can see how there might be some crossover,” I said, not giving her an inch. The woman was a shark. I could see it now. She was already looking for what she could gain from this relationship, not whether we would be compatible in our daily lives.

“Do you rent or own?”

I sipped my wine to buy myself time before I answered. She was incredibly rude. Did she think just because she looked like a supermodel she could get away with such personal and obviously fishing questions?

I considered telling her I didn’t want to discuss business, but I decided to change courses. “I own. And I trust you would be an exceptional realtor, but I have a realtor in the family whose business I support.”

She gave me a rehearsed smile. “Of course, sugar. I respect when someone supports the businesses of their family and friends. Not everyone is like that, you know? I had to climb the ladder and prove myself before anyone would see me as anything other than a pretty face.”

“Sounds rough,” I said dryly.

“You have no idea. I was constantly underestimated everywhere I went. But now?” She giggled softly. Her eyes glittered and she drummed her long red nails on the table. “Well, I’m not hurting for business. Let’s just say that.”

All she was hurting for was a good personality.

Our food arrived right before she started telling me about her history of work prior to pursuing real estate. I’d hoped naively that the disruption would stop the conversation dead in its tracks, but I wasn’t that lucky.

“I hopped around from retail job to retail job for a long time. I liked working with the public but I didn’t like the wages. Naturally, a girl like me can’t get by on minimum wage. My lifestyle is a little too—what’s the word?”

Vain? Self-involved? Indulgent?

“Luxurious,” she said. “I like the finer things in life. Like nice jewelry and fast cars and good-looking men who know how to make money and keep it.” She winked at me.

“I’m flattered.”

Lacy drew her hair over one shoulder and leaned forward. “You should be. All these men can’t keep their eyes off me.” A soft but somewhat villainous laugh left her lips. “Their poor wives.”

Their poor wives? Ha!

Poor wives nothing. Poor me . I was the one stuck sitting across from her listening to her petty dialogue. This was the kind of woman who wanted so badly to be someone—anyone—so long as those around her knew who she was. I bet she dreamed of having her own reality show someday.

She could call it Lacy’s Lavish Lifestyle.

The appalling thing was that people would watch her.

“How’s your steak?” Lacy asked.

“Delicious.”

She licked her lips, twirled her fork, and reached across the table to eat off my plate.

I’d had women do this plenty of times. In fact, Hailey and I did this all the time.

Sometimes, we would intentionally order things we’d know the other person would enjoy because we knew full well we’d be eating off each other’s plates.

But Lacy had not earned that privilege.

She closed her eyes while she chewed and made sexual sounds in appreciation of the flavor. When her eyes opened, she fixed her deep brown gaze on me. “Delicious. But that’s all I can have. I’m watching my figure.”

If she was fishing for me to say, “but why? You’re perfect the way you are,” she was barking up the wrong tree.

I was more likely to say, “you should be watching your ego, not your figure.” But I wasn’t going to say that either.

I was going to endure this date and get the hell out of there as soon as I possibly could.

Too bad Hailey was in Nashville. She would’ve come to bail me out if I needed her. She owed me one.

But with everything so tense and weird between us, I wondered if she would come if I could call her. Or would she leave me to sweat it out with this creature?

Maybe I deserved this.

I watched Lacy eat her salad. She took dainty bites and wielded her fork like a barbarian.

Someone had never taught her proper table manners and the contrast with her beauty was strange.

As the night wore on, she drank more wine and became more and more obnoxious, and by nine o’clock, I had resigned myself to the fact that I was doomed to sit there and listen until she exhausted herself.

As I listened, I thought of Hailey. I thought of how much I missed her and how easy things were with her. Things were simple. Comfortable. Passionate. Electric.

Wasn’t that what it was supposed to be? Wasn’t it supposed to be something you didn’t have to force?

Something that made you feel like you were home.

Lacy nudged my shin under the table with the toe of her shoe and held out her glass of wine. “Top me off, sugar?”

I held in my sigh and filled up her lipstick-stained wine glass.

It was going to be a very long night indeed.