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Lori tucked her short dark hair behind an ear. “If his looks are anything to go by, he should be an easy match.”
“I’m sure we can find someone for him, but whether or not he likes them will remain to be seen.”
Lori wrinkled her nose. “Picky? Although that’s to be expected.”
“Not really. Considering his wealth, he’s one of the more reasonable ones. His biggest problem might be that he doesn’t trust the process,” Marissa said. Or believe in love, she mentally added.
“Oh, one of those. Well, I have no doubt you’ll get him straightened out. You’re one of the best. I hope I get to work with you when I’m promoted to matchmaker.”
Lori had been working for the company for a little over six months, with aspirations to become a matchmaker when the opportunity arose. When that day came, a senior matchmaker, such as Marissa, would mentor her and help her learn the ropes.
“I hope you do too. Has Arnie mentioned anything to you about an opening?”
Arnie Rogers was the current CEO.
“Nothing yet. Keep your fingers crossed for me?”
“Will do.” Marissa held up crossed fingers.
“And I’ll keep my fingers crossed for you. If anyone should get the head matchmaker position, it’s you.”
The current head matchmaker had recently become a grandmother and let the company know she was leaving next year to move closer to her son and his expanding family.
“I don’t know about that, but thanks.”
The head matchmaker position meant more money and bonuses, but she didn’t anticipate getting the position. More than likely, Arnie would pick someone who had more experience than she did. Rick, in their office, and several women in the Beverly Hills and New York offices had been with the company longer.
As she walked away, Lori called out, “Any lunch plans?”
“Eating at my desk. I want to get started on Mr. Santana’s matches. Rain check?”
“Sounds good.”
Back in her office, Marissa dropped her notepad on her draw-less glass desk and slid onto her rolling white leather chair. The sun shined bright through a small window in the corner that provided a sliver of a view of the street between her building and the one next door.
The room was small but neat, decorated in mostly white with teal and pink accents. Growing up, her home had practically been a sty, and perhaps she over-corrected as an adult, but she hated clutter. Dust and dirt gave her the heebie-jeebies. Despite them having a cleaning crew at the office, she did her own cleaning once a week and every couple of days wiped the doorknobs and handles with disposable antibacterial wipes.
She went to the locker where she kept her files and other documents and moved aside a stack of papers to reveal her stash of hidden junk food on the middle shelf. She lifted out a bag of Twizzlers.
Whenever she was nervous or upset, she ate. The problem was, she never ate anything good for her, such as celery sticks or an apple. No, she always stuffed her face with sugar or carbs.
Closing the door, she bit off a piece of the candy and chewed, slowly pacing to her desk, where she laid the full bag. She walked to the window and gazed down at the street below.
An odd energy ran through her veins. She felt off. Jittery.
Shaking off her unease, Marissa swung away from the view, sat behind her desk, and logged into her laptop. Executive Match’s database was filled with men and women from around the country and the world looking for their perfect match, and her job was to find that one person for Bruno.
Originally, they helped everyone find love, but over the years, thanks to dating apps, their services became less needed. Around that time, the owner and founder—Celestine Rogers—retired, and her children took control of the company. Noting the decline in sales and clients, they pivoted to provide a more exclusive service, and Executive Match was born.
Marissa had been with the company throughout the transition and the difference was noticeable. They had fewer clients but made more money because of the high level of service they provided to people in a higher income bracket.
Scrolling through the list of potential women, she filtered the possibilities by the criteria Bruno stated he was looking for and found five blondes. She saved them in a folder before continuing her search. By the time she was finished, she had a list of twenty-two possible women.
His background check needed to be conducted, but at least she had a start.
Chapter Five
Marissa’s cell phone rang, and she swiveled in the chair, pulling her messenger bag from the cabinet behind her. The moment she saw the caller’s name, she grinned.
