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Prologue
Colton
Patience is not my strong suit. Bouncing my knee under the desk, I crumple the heart-shaped flyer my marketing team designed for our latest campaign and refrain from tearing it to pieces.
“Why haven’t we had any results yet?” I growl to my adviser, Max, who’s looking a few shades paler than usual.
“I’m sorry, Colton. I’m doing everything I can. I know how important expanding to the Middle East market is, but I’m struggling to get investors to sit down and talk to me.” He swallows hard, his Adam’s apple bobbing.
I guess I should cut him some slack. After all, Max is my company’s greatest asset. He’s been my right hand for nearly five years, and he’s crucial to my business. For a multinational company, research and development is as important as it is time consuming. And as the sole CEO, I simply don’t have that time. That’s why I place all my trust in Max Wolverton. Though right now, I’m starting to rethink that choice.
“It shouldn’t be that hard,” I say through gritted teeth. “The Love Connected app is blowing away the competition in North America, Europe, and Australia. We’re the online dating leader in all those markets after all. Finding new investors should be a piece of cake!” My booming voice has risen an octave, and Max shudders a little. I know I’m scary when I yell—or so I’ve been told—but this is really getting on my nerves.
The truth is, I despise teamwork, which is why I don’t onboard many investors. I’d rather do everything alone. That hasn’t been an issue until now. But if I want to get my foot in the door of the Middle East markets, I need to find local investors to partner with. It’s a requirement for foreign businesses. “It’s been three months, Max! What’s your excuse?”
Max fidgets with his watch, and a drop of sweat beads at his temple. He’s getting paler by the second.
“Spill.” I lean over the desk, my gaze piercing into his skull.
He clenches his eyes shut. “I think no one wants to invest because you’re not married,” he says in one breath.
My eyes widen as I lean into my brown leather chair. I open my mouth, then close it. “Are you kidding me?”
He shakes his head, not daring to meet my eyes. “I wish I was.”
“This is ridiculous. What century are we living in?”
“The countries in that region are more conservative than most. They probably don’t want to invest in a matchmaking company if the CEO himself isn’t tied down. Especially since you’re not, um, very private with your private life,” he says, then clears his throat. “It doesn't convey the right image.”
I’m now on my feet, pacing around the luminous office. This has got to be a bloody joke. I created a one-of-a-kind algorithm, built a profitable company, and attracted more users than all the other matchmaking apps combined. And that’s still not enough? Because I’m not married? I don’t need to tie the knot to understand how people and compatibility work. This is outrageous. I rake a frustrated hand through my hair, not caring that I’ll look like a madman once I’m done.
“Maybe . . .” Max peeps. “Maybe we could switch our focus to the South American market. Our analytics showed the potential was lower, but—”
“No,” I cut in, slamming my hands on the desk. “We have a plan. We stick to it. I don’t go for second best. The South American market isn’t mature enough. The potential in the Middle East is huge, and we’ll have few competitors there. That’s where we’re going.”
“I’m not sure that’ll be possible under these conditions. I have a few more names to contact, but I can already guess their answer.”
I suck in a deep breath, trying to calm my outburst. The last thing I need is to scare my trusted adviser away. “What do you suggest, then?” I ask in a more subdued voice, watching the traffic slow on the palm-tree-lined boulevard outside. “You’re the adviser. Please, advise.”
He looks away, then glances back at me. “If you really want to pierce these markets, the fastest way would be to find a wife.”
I can’t bite back the laughter that bubbles up from my throat. But it’s not a good-natured chuckle. It’s a sarcastic laugh. A nervous laugh. A desperate laugh. Because there is no way I’m getting married.
“With all the girls you date, surely you have someone you’d be interested in settling down with?” His ghostly pallor has shifted to a tomato red, and I’m baffled by his newfound confidence.
“Max, let’s be serious for a moment,” I say, sitting back down. “I’m not the marriage type. I’m not even the boyfriend type. It’s just not me.”
“Fine.” He brings his eyes to the ceiling, clearly wracking his brain for solutions. That’s why Max is such a great asset. He’s the ultimate problem solver. “Maybe there’s a friend you could ask?”
Or maybe not. I fold my arms over my chest, raising an eyebrow. I shouldn’t have to tell him how short my list of friends is.
“What about Agnes?” he suggests.
I gape back at him, my eyes wide. “Agnes, as in my employee? You’ve got to be kidding! Absolutely not. I’m not marrying anyone.”
“She would probably say yes. She’s as loyal as they come. You can trust her.”
