Page 20 of The Billionaire Mismatch

“But?” Matt asks.

“She was anything but slow,” I say, and he laughs, sitting up straight.

“Well shit. Smart, cute, and feisty. A winning combination for the perfect one-night-bang,” he says, clinking his coffee thermos to mine. “Cheers to you.”

But I don’t thank him. Instead, I pull a bottle of whiskey out of my desk drawer and add a shot to my coffee.

“Oh…” Matt says, pushing his coffee over to me. “There’s more. So…bad in bed?”

“What?” I snap as I take a sip. “Of course not. She was unreal in bed.”

“Clingy at the end of it all?” he takes a sip of his loaded coffee too, and sucks his teeth.

“Not at all. In fact, she was perfectly happy to leave, no strings attached,” I say.

“So what the hell’s the problem then?” Matt asks. “She was fun, sexy, put out, got out. I mean, it sounds like the perfect one-nighter. Unless…you don’t want it to be a one-nighter.”

I don’t say anything.

“Shit…” Matt takes another sip of his coffee and sets it down. “Alright. Pull her profile up again.”

“Why?” I ask.

“Because if my man is considering a second date, something you almost never do, I need to vet her a little harder,” he says. I give him a look; he just holds his hand out in a come-on motion. I finally give in (Golden Retrievers are relentless) and pull up her profile.

“Livv,” he says as he scrolls through the three photos again. “Short for Olivia?”

“Probably,” I shrug.

“You didn’t ask?”

“No,” I state. “Why would I?”

“You’re right. Why would you ask her name? Second date stuff,” he smirks, and I want to hit him. “God. I swear I have seen her before.”

“Where?” I ask with annoyance. “I doubt she goes to Top Golf or Knockouts Bar and Grill,”

“No,” he says. And then he starts fucking around on my phone.

“What are you doing?” I demand.

“A quick image search,” he says, leaning back in his chair so I can’t swipe my phone from him. I’m getting more irritated by the second. But it literally only takes a second before his grin returns, and he holds up the phone. “Bingo.”

“Who is she?” I ask, grabbing my phone.

“Olivia Ramone,” he says. “Owner and head host for–”

“The Unmatched Podcast,” I say as I scroll.

“Holy shit, right?” he chuckles.

And holy shit is right.

“She didn’t tell you?” he asks.

“No. I mean, she mentioned working in tech or communications or something, but not–”

“Not that she’s the creator of a podcast whose sole goal in life is to destroy the online dating industry?” he asks.