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“None of your business,” Marissa said, softening the words with a smile. “He’s the new client I told you about.”
“The chef?”
“Yes.”
“Well, he could probably get any woman he wants. Rich, hot, and he cooks? Lord have mercy, how is he not married already?”
“Who knows? He probably has a major character flaw.”
“Whatever it is, I’m sure the women in your database will be willing to overlook it. Come on, our table is this way.”
Taking Marissa’s wrist, Lark led the way through the crowd to the other side of the lounge, where her three friends sat at two tables partially enclosed by a curtain.
Lark started the introductions with, “This is my friend, Marissa.” Then she proceeded to give the names of the other three women.
“She’s a matchmaker, and all her clients are wealthy,” Lark explained, taking an empty seat.
“Girl, sit next to me,” one of the women said, grabbing Marissa’s hand and pulling her onto the chair.
They all burst out laughing.
Since she didn’t drink, Marissa ordered a coke from one of the waitresses and joined the engaging conversation with the other women. One in particular she thought would be a good fit for a client, and if she wasn’t, one of the other matchmakers might have a potential match for her. She would make sure to give her a card before they parted ways at the end of the night.
As the evening wore on, her mind returned to the brief moments she spent with Bruno, and she rubbed her tingling ear—the one he had whispered in.
She half wished they did find something terrible in his background. Then he’d be out of her life for good.
Chapter Eight
Marissa stepped into the private room of Notte, a popular Italian restaurant in town. Tonight, she wore a red dress and had her hair pulled back in the usual bun. She greeted Wanda, the other matchmaker who would help her with Bruno’s mixer tonight.
“We all set?” she asked, placing her messenger bag on top of the bar.
Wanda had gray hairs sprinkled throughout her short Afro, ebony skin, and a penchant for large earrings. She sat on one of the stools at the bar and nodded. “All set.”
“Karen called and said she’d be a few minutes late,” Marissa said, checking her phone for additional messages. “But that shouldn’t be a problem since Bruno is scheduled to arrive half an hour after they do.”
She always asked the men to arrive later, which gave her a chance to brief the women on their potential suitors, answer questions, and get them ready for the evening.
Executive Match, Inc. had completed Bruno’s background check, and since he wasn’t a serial killer and his finances checked out, they had moved to the next stage of finding him a life partner.
The company had developed relationships with several restaurants around town where they could hold mixers, and tonight they were in Notte’s private room with a dedicated bar, bartender, and several servers. This was one of her favorite places to throw the speed-dating type of mixer because the food was delicious and the service impeccable.
A few minutes later, the women started arriving. Marissa had invited ten in all. As each one entered the room, she and Wanda greeted them, coached them, and engaged them in conversation to help them relax. A few were newbies, but seven had been to at least one previous mixer. There were five blondes, and the others a mix of brown hair and black hair. Eight white women, one Asian, and a Black woman.
Each woman had her own style and unique background, but Marissa made sure they all fit within Bruno’s required criteria. Breasts and ass, intelligent, wanted children, great conversationalist, etc.
When the man of the hour arrived, he was immaculate in a navy suit jacket, matching pants, and a white shirt. They all turned their attention to him.
Marissa immediately sensed the difference in the room. His presence sent a surge of electricity leaping across the tables, and his smile probably melted a couple of panties if the women’s dreamy expressions were any indication.
“Hello, ladies,” he said in his smooth, accented voice.
They all said hello back, several of them giggling.
“I’ll prep him, and you get the women ready,” Marissa whispered to Wanda.
She made her way over to Bruno, and his gray eyes tracked her movements as he unbuttoned his jacket.
