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“I meanbestbehavior,” I cut her sentence short. “That means no asking for selfies, no autographs, and for the love of God, no fangirling either.”
“Not even a teeny-weeny bit?” she asks, clasping her palms together in prayer.
“No. Mr. Wilder will be subjected to the same level of professionalism as any other client. If you need to tell yourself that he’s just like any other man who puts his pants on one leg at a time, then do so. And no swooning!” I add the last part a little too assertively as Becca’s gaze becomes hooded, probably imagining Nathan Wilder putting on said pants. Or, most likely, how he takes them off.
I should have used another metaphor.
“Becca, please,” I let out an exhale. “Please, keep decorum. Otherwise, I’d rather call off this meeting now than have Piper’s client think my agency is a joke.”
This gets Becca’s attention.
“Sorry. I promise I’ll be good.”
“I’ll settle for behaved.” I smile halfheartedly. “And that coffee.”
“I won’t let you down, Lottie. Promise,” she vows steadfastly before leaving for her caffeine run.
Guilt begins to prickle at the nape of my neck with how harsh I was to her, especially since I should be elated with the prospect of adding such a prominent and famous figure to my roster.
But unlike Becca, I can’t find it in me to be excited about adding Nathan to my clientele.
And it has nothing to do with the fact that my best friend is just using my matchmaking agency as a PR stunt to clean his image.
It has everything to do withhim.
Now, alone in my office, I turn on my computer and search for the bar video that has been all over social media lately—the same one Piper showed me just last week at lunch. It doesn’t take me long to find it since I’ve added the damn thing to my favorites, having rewatched it more times than I can count. I quickly move past the fight scene and pause it when Nathan turns around to face the camera, his light-pained gaze flashing for the briefest of seconds. It happens so fast that you would have missed it if you blinked.
He’s lonely, Piper had confided.
And I’m inclined to believe her.
His eyes alone tell a story—one that I feel compelled to know for some inexplicable reason.
And I’m not sure that’s a good thing.
There’s just something about them.
Something in his stare that calls out to me.
A raw vulnerability that a brutish man like him shouldn’t possess.
Yes.
Nathan Wilder is going to be trouble.
What kind of trouble, though, is yet to be seen.
Chapter 8
Charlotte
I’m immersed in data and spreadsheets when Becca knocks on my office door to remind me of my next meeting.
“He’s here,” she says, her eyes sparkling with delight as she rushes over to my desk. “I still can’t believe it. Nathan Wilder isreallyhere. In this office. Needing us to find him his soulmate!” she half-whispers half-yells.
I roll my eyes because, again, I hate that expression.
“He’s here because Piper forced him into it,” I mutter, closing my laptop. “Believe me when I tell you that I very much doubt Nathan Wilder willingly wants to leave this office as one of our clients. Not that I’m eager to add him to our list of clients, either. The only reason I agreed to this meeting was to appease Piper. Otherwise, I wouldn’t hear the end of it.”
