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How had these kids not gotten in trouble in college? There was no bad media coverage; there was barely any coverage at all. The only thing stranger than the fact that his older siblings aren’t in charge is the fact that his father isn’t. He is the proper heir to the company after all. But I couldn’t find a thing on him. They are either the most straitlaced family to ever come into money or they are insanely good at hiding things. I have a feeling it’s the latter.
Normally, this meeting would be the introduction. It’s the time for me to ask a bunch of questions so I can learn as much as possible about my new bachelor. But really it’s the things the client doesn’t say that provide the most information.
For instance, the man who goes on and on about his friends often doesn’t have many, and the one who keeps glancing at his phone and wearing a fake smile is often stressed and probably trying to find his next dose of quick entertainment. He’s not the guy that wants to settle down. Someone is forcing it upon him. The guy who is quiet isn’t necessarily that way in the bedroom, and setting him up with someone who is equally as quiet probably won’t work. You have to figure out their personalities because people don’t normally tell you who they are—they show you.
With Cash, I am going to have to change it up a bit. I already asked a lot of the questions I would have asked in the vetting process because I’d been vetting him for myself.I’d studied him. I know who he is. I’m assuming I know what he’s looking for in a partner. The important part of today is earning Cash’s trust.
In all honesty, I have no idea how I am going to do that.
When I spot him as I walk into the restaurant, I curse myself for being late. Or not exactly late but not as early as him. I wanted to get here first. I wanted to take my time studying him before he saw me.
Apparently, he had the same idea. I feel the fire of his eyes on me. The hairs on the back of my neck stand, my stomach flips, and then I meet his eyes.
I think it takes him a few seconds to even realize I materialized, and then a few more for him to remember that he hates me, because for a few brief seconds, his whiskey eyes light up all for me.
They caramelize with heat, reminding me of the way he looked at me as he sank into me, his eyes holding mine the moment we became one, telling truths we’d never have had the decency to whisper—that this was more, that it felt too right, that he never wanted to be inside someone else.
But just like that he lowers the lids, shutting out both his emotions and his warmth, and when he opens them again, with a grit of his teeth, his eyes scorch me with anger. I can practically taste the bitterness in the air.
Ever the gentleman, he stands when I approach the table and waits for me to sit before he does as well. “Mrs. Kensington.”
“Mr. James,” I reply, trying to keep my hands from shaking. Or even worse, from reaching out and wiping the scowl from his face. How could I feel such affection for a man I barely know? “Thank you for agreeing to meet me here. I know you’re very busy—”
Before I can finish, Cash holds up his hand. “Let’s stop with the pleasantries and acting as if we barely know each other.”
I force a smile. “Wonderful. So, tell me, Cash, what made you decide that you were ready to settle down?”
He laughs, but it comes out scratchy and angry. “That’s not what I meant. Don’t call me Cash. I’m not your friend; I’m your client. Just don’t…” He holds up his hands and waves them in my direction, motioning up and down, with a scowl pulling his eyes tight and his lips jutting downward. “Don’t do whatever it is you were just doing. Don’t pretend we don’t know each other and don’t pretend we’re friends. I don’t like fake people, and I have very little interest in spending any more time with you. Just tell me what I need to do, where I need to be, and we can be rid of one another quickly.”
I bite the inside of my mouth to keep the sting from moving to my eyes. His coldness, his anger, and the hard way he stares make me want to curl up in a ball and hide under the covers for the rest of my life. And I don’t even have my own comfortable bed to do that anymore. I’ve lost all my comfort, all the things that would soften this blow. All I have left is my career.
I nod, unable to address his anger right away. Fortunately, the waitress chooses this moment to approach and take our order. When I order a dirty martini, Cash gives me a look but then he asks for a whiskey.
After the waitress disappears, I look anywhere but at him, hoping to buy time until the drinks arrive. I need alcohol to handle him. And lots of it.
When I look up, I catch Cash staring at my rings. I dart my eyes away again.
Fuck, this is difficult.
“So how does this work?” he finally asks, breaking the proverbial ice.
Fortunately, I am very good at my job, so I can handle describing the process without any real thought.
“Normally, I do my research ahead of time and obtain basic information to prepare. Then, at the initial meeting, this one, I have a list of questions that I go through to get to know the client. This will help me create the profile of who the client is. Then, ordinarily, I would go on a few dates with the client,”—his eyes dart to mine in confusion, and I hold up my hand to tell him to relax— “just so I can see how the client is on a date. What does he like? How does he treat a woman? What is he maybe doing wrong that is causing him to not find a long-term partner? I take all those observations and utilize them to create not only a profile of what the client is looking for, but what he brings to the table, and the type of woman that maybe would be interested in him. I not only interview potential partners, but I train the client how to be a good partner. Then I observe the dates with the potential partners. I can normally tell whether or not it’s working pretty quickly and what needs to be adjusted to find the right match.”
Cash’s lips quirk into an almost smirk. “So, what you’re telling me is that the Keys were part of this elaborate plan? Your husband allows you to cheat on him with other men on a regular basis and then you advise the men what they’re doing wrong before setting them up with their, as you put it, ‘perfect partner.’”
I blow out a breath and thank my lucky stars that our drinks have arrived before I have to answer that. I sip the liquid far too quickly and bite into an olive before looking back at Cash. “Despite what you may think, you know nothing about my life or my marriage, and I think it would be better for our working relationship if we kept it that way.”
Cash laughs. “I couldn’t have stated it better myself. I knew nothing of your marriage. If I had, I wouldn’t have gone near you.”
My fingers trail the side of my head and I rub slow circles against my temple. I can feel a migraine coming on already. He is going to make this impossible. “Cash,” I say before he looks up at me with a glare, “excuse me, Mr. James, there is a reason that your grandmother hired our firm. It’s because we are the best. And there is a reason she wants you to settle down. I imagine it’s because the amount of stress you will have at work will make it so that having a partner you can lean on and rely upon, and use for other stress-reducing activities, will be good for you. And it’s probably necessary.”
In other words, what he needs is to get laid. On the regular. The man is a ticking time bomb.
And God bless the woman who gets to be on the receiving end of it on the regular. Lucky bitch.
“Is that what you do for your husband?” he asks as his eyes graze over my hands.
