The Matchmaker's Playbook (Wingmen Inc., #1)(14)

“Shell, remember what I said about phone calls.” She needed to calm the hell down. Unless his penis was made of gold and he could single-handedly take down every Avenger, the screaming wasn’t necessary. Not one bit. Again, the man liked tea. Enough said. “I need you to listen very carefully.”

She sighed into the phone. “I know, I know. I was just excited. It won’t happen again, Ian. You’re the best!”

I know. “He’s going to try to get you alone. Say no.”

“But—”

“Rule number five: Tell him you’re busy. From here on out, you are always busy, until I tell you that you aren’t. Got it?”

“But, Ian, it’s working. I mean, he asked me out twice today.”

“Twice is nothing, and we aren’t through the rules yet.” I reached for my old-school planner and wrote down the number two next to day two. He was moving through the stages fast for a tea-drinking hippie. Guys usually hit the first stage of jealousy and hang out there for a while, rarely making a move or stomping on another man’s territory until day three or four. “The minute he’s done asking, he’ll move on to telling. That’s when you have him. Not when he asks you out, but when he demands your time and waits outside your dorm until he gets it.”

“Wow,” Shell breathed. “That’s . . . romantic.”

“I know guys.” I checked my watch. “Gotta run. New client.”

“Thanks, Ian. Bye. And—”

I hung up.

I didn’t have time to form relationships with my clients, especially not the ones who’d cry once I told them to cut off all communication at the end of our contract. Better that I keep all conversations short and to the point rather than let our little transaction turn into a romantic entanglement that could potentially destroy my business.

With a relaxed sigh, I leaned back against the bench. My dark D&G sunglasses hid my eyes so I could study people as they passed. It was usually easy picking out new clients. They almost always approached the bench I was sitting on looking like they were going to puke. Several had turned around and started walking the other way while others had marched right up to me and burst into tears.

Frowning, I glanced at the calendar app on my phone. Lex had written in “noon.” It was five after. I could be eating Thai with Gabi instead of sitting in the chilly wet weather waiting for some chick to grow a pair and approach me.

Granted, they never knew it was me behind the business until they saw who was sitting on the bench. That was part of the beauty of the cards.

Lex and I decided to keep things simple. If the girls never knew our identities until after we took them on as a client, then we didn’t have to worry about the aftermath if we rejected them.

And we rejected plenty of applications, but that was all before the meeting ever took place.

Irritated, I swiped my thumb across my phone to call Lex and tell him to drop the client, when someone stumbled into the spot next to me.

Curious, I glanced up.

“Blake?” I almost laughed out loud. No way in hell.

Face pale, she glanced away and mumbled, “You really are everywhere.”

“Like God, only less powerful.”

“Surprised you can say his name without getting struck by lightning.”

“Well, don’t sit too close, just in case.”

With an exaggerated eye roll, she scooted to the farthest part of the bench, crossed her arms, and tapped her foot.

“Waiting for someone?” Oh, this was too good.

Blake pretended not to hear me. Her hair was still pulled back into a tight bun, her baggy Nike shirt had paint on it, and her pink Nike shorts would be cute if they were actually the right size. Had she been overweight once and then just never went shopping for new clothes?

“Look.” Blake uncrossed her arms and turned toward me. “I’ll pay you to leave right now.”

“In what?”

“Huh?” She started chewing on her thumbnail. That nervous habit would have to go. I should probably start compiling a list.

I leaned closer. “What will you pay me in?”

“Rupees.” She glared. “Cash, you idiot.”

“No can do.” I scooted over so that our thighs were touching and pretended to be staring at my phone. Curiosity always won. I just had to wait it out.

“Fine, how do I get rid of you?”

Bingo! “Easy.” I was still staring at the locked screen on my phone that had a Superman emblem with a W in the middle. “You pay me in whatever currency I designate.”

“You have your own money or something?”

“Or something.” I pulled off my sunglasses and shoved them in the front pocket of my leather jacket. “Either you pay me with ten minutes of your time, or you pay me with a kiss. Since it appears you’d rather eat shit than spend another second with me, I’d go for the kiss. It’ll be over quicker and will most likely increase your popularity. You may even get lucky and find your picture on my Twitter feed.”

“No.” She burst out laughing. “Not happening.”

“Fine.” I put my sunglasses back on.

“Look.” Her voice became desperate. “I’m kind of meeting someone, and it’s important, and I don’t want you here. In fact, I was specifically told that if I didn’t come by myself, the contract would be . . .” She glanced down at her hands. “Just . . . go. Now.”