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“I don’t want to work with Bruno Santana anymore. May I be reassigned?” No point in beating around the bush.
Arnie looked up from the paperwork with a frown. “Who’s that?” His voice was as gravelly as his appearance.
Marissa took the seat in front of his desk. “A client I received as a referral from the Beverly Hills office. He’s a chef and entrepreneur, good-looking, wealthy.”
“How wealthy?”
“He’s a billionaire and owns several restaurants in town—Garlique, Bruno’s Tavern?—”
“Wait a minute, I know him. The man is a living legend! I read a write up about him in Atlanta Magazine a while back. He’s earned a total of seventeen Michelin stars across his restaurants!”
“Nineteen,” Marissa corrected.
“Even better. Let me tell you, if you’ve never been to Bruno’s Tavern, you should give the place a try. It’s a sports bar that serves elite level food. We’re talking gourmet burgers made with Wagyu beef and served on buns from a bakery he owns across town.” He kissed his fingertips and smacked his lips as if he tasted the food right then and there.
Marissa refocused on the purpose of her visit. “I’m glad to hear you enjoy his food, but I don’t believe Mr. Santana and I are a good match.”
“And why is that? He’s a prestigious client. Did something negative come back on the background check?” Arnie set down his pen.
“No,” Marissa admitted slowly. “The background check came back fine, and I’ve already completed a mixer for him. He’s been on a couple of dates. My first problem is, I’m not convinced he’s serious about finding a life partner or looking for love.”
“And two?”
“Two?”
“You said ‘my first problem is.’ I assume there’s at least one more,” Arnie explained patiently.
“Oh. Well, he…” Marissa struggled to find a legitimate reason. “He-he and I don’t mesh. Our beliefs about relationships don’t align. He doesn’t believe in soulmates, and I’m a little put off that he wants to find a woman who can travel with him on a whim. A woman as arm candy to attend his events, like some kind of-of—1950’s housewife.” She was exaggerating but needed her excuse to sound believable.
Arnie arched his right eyebrow, and her stomach tanked.
“He’s our first billionaire. Do you have any idea what kind of doors that will open if he’s willing to let us share his story of finding a wife through us? If he’s willing to tell his rich friends about us?”
“But—”
“What type of company are we running here?” he asked.
Marissa deflated. “A matchmaking service,” she mumbled.
“What was that?”
“A matchmaking service,” she repeated louder.
“Exactly.”
“But Arnie?—”
“Marissa, we match people based on their needs, not our preferences. If he thinks soulmates are a crock of shit and wants a wife to greet him at the door with a martini while wearing an apron and high heels—or whatever—who are we to say that’s not acceptable?”
“He said he only expects to be married temporarily. He’s going into a relationship with the intent to walk away—probably as soon as problems arise.”
Arnie shrugged. “Because things don’t always work out. Hell, I’m divorced. He has a pretty realistic view of marriage if you ask me. Unlike someone who thinks love is forever.” He stared right at her.
Marissa pressed her lips together to keep an ugly retort from flying out of her mouth. They had a good relationship—however, he was her boss.
“I don’t think love is forever for everyone, but when the right people meet and fall in love, it could last forever—through trials and tribulations, ups and downs.” Lindsay the Sexy Diva had discussed that idea recently, and Marissa had agreed.
“What’s the real problem here?” Arnie asked.
