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Chapter 1
Sasha
I’m standing alone outside Rhythm and Rye on Lexington and 4th, my stomach in knots. It’s a ridiculously cold Tuesday night and I forgot my gloves. I’m desperate to get warm but I’m not sure I can force myself to open the door and go in.
Why the hell would I ever agree to take part in a speed dating event? Don’t only losers do this kind of thing? I must have lost my mind when I agreed to do this. But, it's all in the name of research.
I’m a matchmaker and I began my new job at Adore Matchmakers several months ago. My best friend, Lauren, started the company a year ago and business has been booming. She needed another matchmaker and begged me to take the job.
I had been selling software for a monster corporation for over 4 years and was completely burnt out. Our sales goals were practically doubled every year and the stress was just too much. A change of pace sounded like exactly what I needed so I took the job with Adore.
When Lauren asked me yesterday to sign up for this speed dating event, I told her “hell no.” What’s the point? None of our fancy clients would ever subject themselves to this kind of torture. She said I’d be surprised to learn what they would do to find love. And, anyway, this is part of the dating world and I need to familiarize myself with it to better understand how to help our clients.
And, here I am, about to try something I never dreamed I’d do. If it weren’t for work, I definitely wouldn’t be here. I’m absolutely not looking for a relationship – or even a date, really. After what happened with my last relationship, I’m not sure when or if I’ll be ready to throw myself in the pool again.
Taking a deep breath, I finally open the door and head in, slowly walking up to the table set up in the front of the room. A cute bouncy girl with a nametag that says Riley asks my name. She checks me off her list and gives me a nametag and a sheet of paper that lays out the speed dating rules.
“Just relax and have fun,” she gushes.
I manage to give her a pasted-on smile and as I walk away, I roll my eyes.
I glance around tentatively at the other participants. Some look like they just came from work and are still in suits and ties and others look like they just rolled out of bed. When did pajamas become acceptable attire for out-of-the-house clothes?
Bouncy Riley saunters over to tell us that we are about to begin and that all the women should have a seat at the tables that are lined up. The men will move from woman to woman after the bell chimes. We will have 5 minutes with each participant to get to know them and find out what they are looking for in a partner. We are encouraged to just be ourselves and ask lots of questions. How the hell does one “be themselves” in such an awkward situation?
I take a seat closest to the door just in case I can’t handle another second of this hell and need to make a quick exit. My heart is pounding out of my chest right now.Calm down, Sasha, you’re just pretending. No need to be so fucking nervous.
The bell chimes and a man named Stuart promptly sits down in front of me. Stuart is decent-looking, with floppy hair and chocolate-brown eyes. But, he’s one of the people wearing the equivalent of pajamas – baggy sweats and a Knicks sweatshirt. Definitely not my favorite look.
We begin the conversation by talking about work. An incredibly boring subject, unfortunately discussed in depth on most first dates. I have decided not to reveal that I’m a matchmaker and that I’m only here for research. So, I lie to Stuart and tell him I’m an accountant. It turns out he’s also an accountant and I change the subject quickly before he figures out I have no idea about what accountants do.
“So, what brought you to New York?” I ask.
“The devil,” he replies.
“I’m sorry…?”
“Oh, right… my bad. That’s what I call my ex. I guess I shouldn’t have said that to you though. We just met. Probably not the best first impression, huh?”
“Perhaps,” I say snidely.
“Well, it’s true. Sheisthe devil. She bugged me for months about moving here. She claimed having a long-distance relationship was too difficult for her, because she travels a lot for work and she doesn’t like to travel on the weekends. Anyway, long story short, I move here from Philly, drag all my stuff and my dog up here and three months later she tells me she wants to date someone else. Some guy she met on one of her work trips. Who doesn’t even live here. I’m sure she’s probably going to do the same thing to him that she did to me.”
Damn, this guy is pissed. A perfect example of someone who should not be in the dating world. I feel the urge to tell him he would benefit from a few therapy sessions.
Instead, I ask him about his dog. “So, what breed of dog do you have?”
His brow furrows with annoyance. Clearly, he would prefer to continue on this rampage about his ex.
Just then, I am saved by the bell and Stuart gets up in a huff to find his next victim.
Tony sits down in front of me next. He’s a big guy with an enormous smile. He’s in an ill-fitting suit and is wearing one of the ugliest ties I’ve ever seen. Who the hell wears a tie with corgis?
“Well, hello there, gorgeous,” he says, looking me directly in the eye.
“Um, hello. How’s it going?” I reply hesitantly, my stomach clenching.
“So much better now that I’m here with you. I noticed your hot as fuck bod earlier and couldn’t wait to meet you.”
