Mister Match (The Match Series Book 1) (6 page)

Adam gazed at her for a second longer, and she felt the intensity of awareness radiating from his stare like heat from a fire. Simultaneous urges warred within her, to draw closer and to pull away.

Whatever this guy’s start-up business was, it must be an unqualified success. The man had focus and charisma to burn.

“Well, some other time, maybe. Thank you, again, for the massage. It was perfect.” With a grin, he nodded at her and then Clare, and leaned over to put on his shoes.

Which gave her another nice view of his rear end. She couldn’t help but look. Even Clare pushed up in her chair in order to peek over the counter, but only got in a second’s ogling before Adam straightened again.

“Back to your discussion of accidental erections, then.” He winked as he pushed the door open.

Instead of leaving, he paused and shook his head. “I’m sorry, I almost forgot. I meant to leave this in the room for you.” He felt in his pants pocket and withdrew a folded bill, which he held out to her. “That really was an incredible massage.”

Their fingers touched as she took the bill from him, and the sensation of his heat and energy connecting with hers made her breathing go shallow.

“Oh, and here. This is for you,” he said to Clare, reaching into his pocket again and pulling out a small, blue card. “It’s a coupon. Free membership for your first month on Mister-Match.com.”

He held it out to her, but Clare just smiled sweetly. “Thanks, but I don’t do Internet dating.”

Adam’s eyebrows arched. “No? Any particular reason why not?”

“Because I don’t need to.” She tilted her head at Lisa. “But she does.”

Hot annoyance flashed through Lisa. She narrowed her eyes at her friend, wishing she had the power to send out tiny darts through her corneas.

“Uh—” Adam glanced back and forth between the two of them, as if sensing the sudden tension. “Well, I’ll just leave this here.” He put the coupon on the reception counter. “Maybe you can pass it along to someone who can use it.”

“Enjoy your stay at the Keiko,” Clare called brightly after him.

As soon as the door to Indulgence swished shut, she rounded her eyes at Lisa. “Good Lord, woman, is that what I think it is? What did you do, give him a BJ?”

She was staring pointedly at the bill Lisa was holding. Still annoyed, Lisa glanced down at it as well—and felt her heart stutter.

“A hundred dollars?” she said slowly, hardly able to comprehend what she held in her hand. “He tipped me a hundred dollars, on a two-hundred-dollar massage.”

Clare whistled. “Now I know who’s treating, Monday night at Diego’s!”

“A hundred bucks?” Lisa scowled. “Who does that? What an ass.”

“An ass?” Clare blinked at her incredulously. “He’s not an ass, he’s filthy rich. Hell, he should’ve tipped me a Benjamin, too.” She looked thoughtful for a second. “You know, most celebrities aren’t that generous. The guy’s rich, famous
and
a seriously good tipper.” She clapped her hands gleefully. “Let’s go blow it on that sushi lunch!”

“Nope. Sorry.” Lisa tucked the bill into her front pants pocket. “I ought to give this back to him—”

“Give it
back
?” Clare’s expression shifted from shock to pure outrage, but Lisa just shook her head.

“Don’t worry, I’m not completely insane. It’s going straight to the bank.”

Clare sighed. “That’s so depressingly sensible of you. You’re always so sensible. You just got asked out by Adam Match and you said no!” She smacked a palm on the countertop. “I can’t believe you did that!”

Lisa frowned. “I thought his name was Masters. And anyway, he’s a client—”

“If he’d asked me out, I’d have gone in a second,” Clare gushed. “I’d suck his toes if he asked me to. God, Adam Match! That’s just too much.”

“Why do you keep calling him that? And what’s up with your toe obsession today?”

“Adam Match,” Clare repeated, staring at Lisa with a you’re-too-dumb-for-words look in her big, tawny eyes. “Founder of Mister-Match.com? He does The Questionnaire to find out who’s your perfect lover?”

“The Questionnaire?” Lisa shook her head. “I’ve never heard of it. Or him.”

“Lisa. We were just talking about him the other night!”

Lisa shook her head. “What are you talking about?”

Clare stared. “You can’t be serious. Mister Match! He’s everywhere! I see, like, ten Mister-Match.com ads a day. And I just set you up on the site! Have you even checked your email this week? I sent you the login info so you could check it out if you wanted to.”

“I haven’t had a chance to go to the library since last weekend.” Lisa blinked. “Wait, that’s the dating site you and Willow are using to pimp me out to random men?”

“Pimping you out?” Clare repeated. “Try doing you a huge favor. Just think of us as your Fairy God-Cupids, all right? And yeah, we set you up on Mister-Match.com, and that hot guy who just asked you out to lunch—and you refused—happens to be Mister Match himself.” She shook her head. “God, I hate agreeing with Willow’s woo-woo stuff, but sometimes it’s just best not to ignore completely blatant messages from the Universe.”

“Messages from the—” Lisa rolled her eyes. “You don’t seriously think that when some dating site guy happens to show up on my massage table, it’s some kind of divine sign that I need to sign up?”

Clare had picked up the receiver of the phone on her desk. “Hey, you said it, not me.” She shrugged as she punched in an extension and then held the receiver to her ear. “Anyway, whatever. You should check out
Access Austin
later today. It comes on at four—no, five. Adam Match is doing an interview.” She grinned cheekily. “I mean, if the IRS didn’t repo your TV.”

“Yeah, gee, I wonder why they didn’t think it was worth repossessing an ancient hand-me-down Magnavox,” Lisa said, but Clare was no longer paying attention.

“Hello, this is Clare Fox, calling from Indulgence Spa,” she was saying into the phone.

Lisa drummed her fingers on her desk and wondered idly who Clare was calling.

“I just wanted to let you know,” Clare said, grinning and winking at Lisa, “my friend Lisa changed her mind.”

“What?” Lisa sat up straight. “Who are you talking to?”

But Clare was speaking into the phone again. “She’d love to have lunch with you today after all, if the offer still stands.”

Lisa’s heart suddenly started pounding double-time in her chest. Clare was talking to Adam Match. “Hey, stop it right now—”

“Perfect,” Clare said serenely. “She’ll be down in the lobby in ten.” She replaced the receiver, smiling that triumphant, cat-that-caught-the-canary smile of hers.

“What did you just do?” Lisa demanded, her heart sinking, since, of course, it was already perfectly obvious.

“I told you,” Clare said, “I’m your Fairy God-Cupid. It’s my job to find you dates with eligible bachelors, and it’s your job not to keep them waiting. So you’d better get your sweet ass downstairs, because you’re having lunch with Mister Match in ten minutes.”

Chapter
6

____________________________________

T
he sushi place on Congress was just starting to buzz with the downtown lunch crowd, but the host showed Lisa and Adam to an intimate little booth in a back corner. As Lisa walked among the tables, she tried to carry herself as if she belonged here—as if impromptu lunch dates with handsome men were the kind of thing she did all the time.

Yet, as she glanced around at the other patrons, most of them business types in expensive-looking suits, not her normal crowd at all, it was tough to ignore the sense that she was distinctly out of her element.

“Sake,” Adam told the waiter who came to take their drink order. “Warmed, please.” He looked at Lisa. “Is that all right with you? Do you like sake?”

“I do,” she said, “although I don’t normally have it at lunchtime. Especially not during a workday.”

Adam grinned at her. “I’m guess I’m technically at the start of my workday, too. We could just go with iced water, or green tea, if...” He trailed off, clearly inviting her to make the decision.

Lisa bit her lip. She was here, with Adam Masters—no, with Adam
Match
—because Clare had sent her here. She’d orchestrated the whole thing. Why shouldn’t Lisa enjoy herself a little?

“How about we go ahead with the warmed sake,” she told the waiter after a beat, “but make it a small bottle.” She glanced across the table at Adam. “We can share.”

His answering smile arrowed right into her. She shifted in her seat. Her neck suddenly felt hot, and she ran a hand under her hair, lifting it away for a moment to create some circulation.

Why did this feel so intimate—all of this: their lunch date, their secluded little table, and the idea of splitting a small carafe of sake with this man?

She hadn’t had drinks with a man in forever, she realized. Not since Rodney.

The waiter held out a long board of a menu with a printed card tied to it with ribbon, and Lisa caught the thing like a lifeline, pretending to be immediately and utterly engrossed.

When they had placed their food orders—Lisa ordered her favorite, salmon nigiri and a bowl of miso soup, and Adam asked for the chef’s choice of sashimi, along with a few other dishes—they both sat back and simply looked at each other for a moment.

Lisa felt herself begin to squirm in the midst of the silence. After a beat, an unexpected giggle bubbled out of her.

“Oh!” She clapped a hand to her mouth, as if she could stuff the giggle back in. She’d always had this annoying habit of laughing in uncomfortable moments. At least, Rodney had always told her it was annoying.

Stop thinking about Rodney,
she thought fiercely. Which made her feel even more tense, which spurred another stray giggle.

Adam’s smile widened. “What’s so funny?”

“Nothing, nothing. I’m sorry.” But she couldn’t quite make her mouth lose the grin. “I always laugh when I shouldn’t,” she admitted. “It’s a—a thing I have. A bad habit.”

“You laugh when you feel uncomfortable, right?”

“I guess. I mean, I’m not exactly uncomfortable right now, but this is—” She shrugged, and tried not to burst into a cascade of nervous titters.

“This is a funny situation,” Adam supplied. “I know. It’s a little weird.” He leaned in, his expression quizzical. “The weirdest part to me is how
not
weird it is. I mean, being here, with you. I hope this isn’t too cheesy to say, but I just feel this connection with you. Believe me, I don’t normally do this kind of thing.” He shook his head, looking at her as if she were an inscrutable puzzle he’d really like to solve.

Another beat of silent stretched between them, during which Adam gazed at her with naked interest, and with humor—she could see where the corners of his eyes were crinkled up. He was smiling at her with his eyes, which was impossibly cute. She almost burst out in a fresh wave of giggles, in a fit of pure nervousness brought on by the intensity of his gaze. The man was ridiculously hot, and somehow he thought he was attracted to
her
? She wanted to squeal like a teenager with her girlfriends at the very thought.

And then she realized: He wasn’t
attracted
to her. He’d said he felt a connection with her. That was different. Only a shade, but different all the same. He felt comfortable with her.

“It’s the vetiver,” she blurted out.

“The vetiver?” Adam repeated.

She felt her face prickle with embarrassment. “Yes, in my—” She held up a wrist. “In my scented oil. It’s one of the main ingredients. It’s supposed to be grounding, and calming. That’s probably why you think you feel this connection, or whatever.”

She felt ridiculous saying it aloud, but as she did, she realized it was true. That was why she wore vetiver oil in the first place: It was an aromatherapy technique, intended to put her clients at ease during a session. Adam had grabbed her wrist during the massage. Now, he was claiming he didn’t normally treat strange women to lunch, while doing just that. Clearly, he was sensitive to the essential oil’s effects. Probably in combination with the massage itself, the scent had relaxed him and opened him up to the point that his inhibitions had broken down.

“You think your perfume made me take you out to lunch?” Now Adam was grinning at her with open delight.

“Well—” It sounded silly, when he put it that way. “Not exactly, but... Yeah, maybe.” She shook her head, feeling flustered.

Then she noticed Adam was looking over her shoulder, toward the front of the restaurant, and his expression had gone wary.

“Is everything okay?” Had she said something wrong?

“Everything’s fine,” Adam said, but his tone had an edge to it. “I just thought they’d—” He broke off and shook his head. “Sorry. It’s nothing. Everything is good. Better than good.” He smiled at her once again, and Lisa felt as if the sun had broken through the clouds.

Talk about sensitive and susceptible. She really needed to watch herself with this man.

The momentary distraction of the waiter bringing a small ceramic bottle and two matching cups to the table was a relief.

“Your sake,” he said, setting the items down with a flourish. He poured a small amount of clear liquid into each cup.

“Thank you,” Adam and Lisa said to the waiter, at the same time.

Lisa glanced at Adam and found him watching her, too.

So he was the type who thanked waiters. It was a small thing, really, but she was glad. In her experience, too many people, and especially people with money, ignored others whom they considered underlings. Adam didn’t seem to be like that. It was a point to his credit.

Rodney hadn’t ever had money, yet he’d always acted as if waiters, along with cab drivers and grocery store cashiers, were somehow inferior—

Stop,
she insisted in her head. The Rodney memories, the comparisons, were getting ridiculous. And besides, lots of men would stack up quite favorably against the Rod’s many, many flaws. The fact that Adam Masters was coming out ahead in Lisa’s mental tally wasn’t exactly anything special.

“Well,” she said, picking up the thread of their earlier conversation, “I don’t normally do things like this, either.”

“No?”

“Going out on spontaneous lunch dates with strange, handsome men? No. It’s not really my usual thing.”

Adam’s grin was swift and mischievous, and brought out a dimple on one cheek. “So you think I’m handsome?”

“Um.” It was more than she’d meant to say. She felt her face heat yet again, and fought back yet another surge of giggles.

“I’ll take that as a yes.” He handed her a small cup of warm sake. “Let’s cheers to that,” he said, clinking his own cup against hers.

The thing held hardly more than a swallow. Lisa drank it all and found that the warm sake went down smoothly. Adam refilled her cup as soon as she set it down again, giving her another of those intimate smiles that made her insides feel all liquidy and electrified at once.

She needed to steer the conversation toward more neutral waters, stat.

“Is your stay in Austin going well?” she asked brightly. That should be a mundane enough subject.

Adam nodded. “Well, I just flew in this morning, but so far, it’s been great, actually. That massage you gave me was just—I don’t even have words to describe it.”

She felt her cheeks flush with pleasure. Which was completely annoying.

“It was intense,” he went on. “It was like poetry.”

The praise, effusive as it was, made her feel self-conscious. Suddenly she wasn’t sure how to arrange her hands. She reached for her sake cup and took another sip, and was glad for the slight burn as it went down. “I’m very glad you enjoyed it.”

He was watching her intently again. “All right, now it’s my turn to ask you a question.”

She glanced quickly into his eyes, and then away. What was it about this man that made her so jumpy? Not that it was an unpleasant feeling. It was...stimulating. “All right. Ask.”

“Why aren’t you in private practice? Why don’t you have your own massage business? You’re definitely good enough.”

That wasn’t what she’d expected. Apparently they were done with the small-talk portion of the date, and moving right on into the thick of things. She looked down at her lap, trying to hide her expression in case it gave away more than she wanted it to. “I used to have my own business with a...a partner.” No need to mention that the partner had been Rodney.

“What happened?” Adam asked.

“Are you always this nosy?” she shot back, trying to sound playful.

His smile was apologetic. “Only when it matters to me. Should I back off?”

It was kind of nice, to hear she mattered to him. It was definitely nice to know he would back off if she wanted him to.

Of course, she had to remember not to trust him—not yet, not after such a short time. But that didn’t mean she couldn’t enjoy his focused attention. “No, it’s all right. The business didn’t work out, and I went to work at Indulgence.”

There was a pause. “End of story?” he prompted. “That’s it?”

“Pretty much. The money’s steady at the spa, and I don’t have to buy my own insurance or equipment.” She shrugged. “It’s just better all around.”

His eyes narrowed as he surveyed her. “Excuse me for saying so, but I don’t believe you.”

The blunt statement took her by surprise. “Pardon me?”

“I know what it’s like to work for other people, and I know what it’s like to work for myself. And I get the feeling you and I are alike in some important ways. I think you’d like working for yourself better than for anyone else, no matter how great your boss at Indulgence might be. I think you’re like me in that way.”

Raising an eyebrow, she replied pleasantly, “Except you don’t know me at all. And you’re wrong. My boss at the spa is wonderful. And Indulgence has been wonderful for my career, my sanity. And it’s not bad for my bank account, either.”

“Money can definitely be an issue when you work for yourself.” He leaned in. “But it’s exciting, isn’t it? Knowing you have to work hard in order to succeed, and that whatever success you create, or failure, it’s on your shoulders. You did it. No one else.”

His voice held a current of energy that took Lisa right back to those early days with Rodney—the thrill of renting the space for their yoga and massage business, fixing it up, creating a website and printing up business cards, making their first contacts with clients...

She shook her head. “Wow. I can see why you’re a celebrity, or whatever. You’ve definitely got some charisma.”

His deep, rich laugh rang out. “I’m not a celebrity. I founded a website, that’s all.”

“You’re recognizable on the street,” she countered. “I’d call that a celebrity.”

Instantly, his face clouded, and his eyes darted over her shoulder again, to the front of the restaurant. “I suppose,” he said distractedly.

This time, Lisa looked over her shoulder, trying to see whatever he was seeing. “What are you—” she started, but broke off when she spotted the waiter approaching with wooden serving boards in each hand, displaying all sorts of colorful things—lines of orange-and-white salmon nigiri, dark pink squares of fish that Lisa thought must be tuna, next to white squares and silver-edged ones—varieties of sashimi she couldn’t identify. There was pale green wasabi shaped into little leaves, and pink mounds of pickled ginger garnished with yellow lemon rind and orange carrot shavings.

A second waiter followed behind with bowls of miso soup and other, larger bowls, things Lisa hadn’t ordered.

She couldn’t help but stare as the waiters began unloading their bounty. It looked as if Adam had ordered one of everything on the menu.

“I wanted to try it all,” he said, with an adorable shrug. “It’s not often I get to enjoy really good food with a fascinating and beautiful woman.”

The compliment made her feel hot behind the ears again, so she concentrated on the spread before them. One bowl held large cubes of something resting in broth, with tiny, pale bits of what looked like delicate wood shavings scattered on top.