I shot her a glare. She knew exactly how long it’d been. What’s more, I’d finally told her why it’d been that long a few months ago. “You know when the last time was.”
“And you’re never going to move on if you don’t put yourself out there, and at least try.”
“Maybe I don’t want to move on,” I said, cringing at hearing how ridiculous my reply sounded. I knew that wasn’t what I really wanted. It’s just that it was easier to go about my life not putting myself out there very much. After a year or two, it became my routine. Staying at home was easier than going out. Boring and predictable, yes. I’d even go so far as to say mildly pathetic. But it was mine, and it was comfortable.
“If that’s the case,” Mia said. “Then no big deal. I’ll get in contact with his second match, and that will be that.”
I hated it when she called my bluff. Because regardless of what I or anyone else thought of my life, I really didn’t want it to stay the way it was forever. To be honest, I didn’t know how to do anything differently. I hated the singles scene, and couldn’t afford a professional like Bachelor International.
Then maybe you should take Mia up on her offer, I told myself. “When did you say this guy was coming into town, and when am I supposed to meet him?”
Mia did a horrible job hiding her grin, which just proved my point about her calling my bluff. She’d known the entire time, and I had played right into her hands. “There’s an event he has next Saturday.”
“What kind of event?” I asked.
“A reception and dinner, I believe.”
“I’m not going to meet him before the event?”
“No,” she said, but didn’t expand.
“Why is this sounding more like an escort service than a matchmaking one?” I asked.
Mia’s mouth dropped open in shock. “You know I’d have nothing to do with an escort service.”
“I know,” I said. “But you have to admit, it sounds a bit odd.”
“Not odd,” Mia corrected me. “It’s what the client asked for. He needs a date for the event and wanted someone he would more than likely get along with. He’s coming into town the day of the event, so there’s no time for a date before then.”
"Flying internationally into Boston the day of an event makes no sense.” It boggled the mind. “Doesn’t he have people who tell him stuff like that is stupid as hell?”
“I’m sure he does, but he’s not flying in from an international location. He’ll be in New York for a few days, and then he’ll fly to Boston.”
I’d be lying to say part of me wasn’t interested in getting all glammed up for a night out. I couldn’t remember the last time I’d done so. Even if I had to put up with a snooty international who had more money than God. Maybe this would be the kick in the butt I needed to get my social life breathing again.
“I’ll think about it,” I said to Mia. She probably knew I was going to end up agreeing to do it anyway and only dragged it out to give her grief.
Either way, her face lit up like she’d just spied Tenor standing behind me. “That’s all I ask,” she said. “And that you let me know by Monday morning one way or the other.”
“Today’s Wednesday,” I said. “That’ll never work because if I decide to go, I’ll need something new to wear, and you and I will have to go shopping. The best time for me to go is Saturday morning. Let Tenor know now so that he can come to terms with not spending time with you for a few hours on Saturday.”
Mia held a hand up to her mouth. “We’re not that bad, are we?”
I narrowed my gaze. “Two months.”
Mia only smiled. “They’ve flown by.”
I didn’t have it in my heart to pick on her too much. She’d been through a lot in the last year and truly deserved her chance at happiness. I’d never deny her that. After losing both a friend and her mother in a car crash, she’d then lost her business only a few weeks later. Even though she hooked up with Tenor soon thereafter, they had a huge misunderstanding, and went weeks without seeing each other.
“I’m so happy with Tenor,” she said. “I never thought I’d feel this way about anyone. Much less him. I mean, I disliked him from the second I heard of him.”
“I think the word you’re looking for there is hate, not dislike,” I felt necessary to remind her. Before meeting Tenor in person, Mia’s disdain for anything remotely related to either Tenor or Bachelor International was legendary.
She nodded and looked at me directly. “I was so wrong about him, but the one thing I did right was not to let my preconceived ideas of who he was cloud my ability to let me see the real man.”
“This feels like you’re trying to fit an after-school special in there somewhere, but I’m totally missing whatever it is.”
“I’m saying you had an awful experience with a guy in the past. Don’t let that one experience control you to where it ruins your perception of all men.” Mia took a sip of water. “I believe there are a lot of good guys out there.”
“And that, my friend, is why you’re the matchmaker and I’m the coldhearted journalist.”
“Please. You don’t have a cold heart.”
“Cold and dead,” I insisted.
“I don’t believe you for a second,” Mia said. “It might be a bit on the frosty side, but all it needs is the right man to thaw it.”
I snorted. “Whatever. Tell me what you can about this guy.”
Mia’s eyes blazed with victory and I held up my hand. “Don’t get excited. I’m not saying I’ll do it, I’m saying tell me a little about him, and I’ll think on it tonight and let you know definitively tomorrow.”
“He’s Italian—”
“Wait. What?”
Mia looked unsure for the first time since bringing up the entire date. “That’s the reason Tenor brought up your name for a potential date in the first place. He thought since you’d spent time in Italy, you’d be perfect.”
My time in Italy was the reason why I had a heart so cold and dead. A fact I had only recently confided to Mia. “Does he know…?” I found myself unable to finish the question.
“No, Wren,” she assured me. “Of course not. I would never betray your trust in such a way. Not even to Tenor.”
Not that I thought she would, but I had to be certain and didn’t feel bad at all for asking. I took a deep breath, forcing the air out of my lungs before inhaling. I could do this. Hell, it’d been years, and in that time, I’d become an expert at shutting that part of myself away, not only from the world, but from myself as well. “Okay, so he’s Italian. What else?”
She didn’t look half as assured as she had been only seconds before, but she continued. “His name is Lucrezio, and he’s in the US for marketing of some sort. He’s two years older than you and has never been married.”
A businessman from Italy. I took another deep breath. “Anything else?”
“Other than the fact he’s a perfect match?”