I know the decision to take in outside investors hadn’t been easy, even if we needed it. But her optimism seems unfailing.
Ace trails me as I head to the coffeemaker in the reception. Suzy’s desk is abandoned and the door to my aunt’s office left ajar. The three of us have tried to save this sinking ship for over a year, but competing with free dating apps, well… it hasn’t been easy.
I look out the window at the sun-drenched New York street and take a sip of my freshly brewed espresso. Selling out feels like the end of an era.
The buzzer rings on our front door. I frown, heading to Suzy’s desk. None of us have clients scheduled for the rest of the day.
I press down the answer button. “Opate Match, how can I help you?”
The voice is masculine and clipped. “I’m here for a meeting.”
A meeting? We don’t have anyone scheduled, but Suzy’s made mistakes before.
“Of course,” I say. “Come on in.”
I hide the coffee cup behind a steel statue of Cupid and brush away some biscuit crumbs from my skirt before opening the door.
I don’t recognize the man who enters. He’s also tall enough that I have to tilt my head back to meet his gaze. Dark-haired and suit-clad, but so are most of the men who come seeking our matchmaking services. No hints at his profession there.
Early thirties, I’m guessing.
I extend a hand and give him my warm, professional smile. “I’m Summer Davis. It’s a pleasure to meet you.”
He looks at my hand a second too long before clasping it in his for a brief shake. “I’m here for a meeting with Vivienne Davis.”
There’s a frown on his lips, as if the prospect tastes sour on his tongue. He’s one of the more reluctant clients, then.
“Yes, that’s right,” I say. “She delegated the meeting to me, but I’m sure we’ll get off to a great start. I take it this is your first time here?”
His scowl deepens. “It is.”
“Excellent. Let’s get you sorted. You’re welcome to step into my office, just through here… would you like a cup of coffee?”
“No.”
“All righty. Just let me know if you change your mind.” I close the door behind me and motion for him to have a seat. Despite the scowl, he has a good look. Not classically handsome, I’ll admit. There’s something too rough-hewn about his facial features for that. But he’s tall and broad-shouldered, with an old-world masculine look. Not to mention he has the dark, scowling thing down pat, and there are tons of women who like that.
Yes, I think. I can work with this.
I take a seat opposite him and fold my hands together on the oak desk. “First and foremost, I’d like to thank you for coming in today. It’s the first step, after all.”
The stare he levels at me is unnerving. “Right.”
“I’m aware of how difficult it can be to try something like this, especially if you haven’t used any form of matchmaking services before. But we’re complete professionals, and I promise you that our service is always first-class. We’ll never pair you with someone we don’t believe will be a good fit.”
He leans back in his chair, hands curving around the armrests. Something flashes in his eyes. Is it amusement? This man is impossible to read, but I’ll figure out his language.
“Good to know,” he says.
“Not to mention we have complete client confidentiality.”
“Right.” His gaze travels from me to the framed images on the wall beside me. They’re wedding photographs.
A real chatty Cathy, this guy.
“All successes,” I tell him. Couples who meet through Opate often send their wedding photos to us, together with handwritten thank-you notes. I’d saved every one. “What made you approach Opate Match?”
He looks down at the sleeves of his suit jacket, re-adjusting them. Is he smiling? Offended? He’s giving me nothing to work with, and it’s not like I have access to his initial emails with Vivienne. No, I’m flying blind, but I’ll have to pretend I’m not. Is he a stockbroker or an oil tycoon? Interested in men or women?