We hold each other’s gazes for a weighty beat—a sort of truce. We’ve each admitted something harder to say than I want you. Hell, attraction is easy to confess. Hurt is not.
“And then I wanted to be a musician,” she says, fiddling with her mic stand, adjusting it just so. “But I didn’t have enough talent for the cello to go beyond college orchestra . . . Though, I do have a talent for talking about love, so maybe I was always meant for this job. I love love. I believe my mom passed that on to me. My dad too. And that is why I started my podcast. I feel very lucky that it was a success. When The Dating Pool bought into it, I lost some of the freedom, but I still get to share love. And love is a fantastic thing.” She takes a steadying breath, smiles again. “So that’s a good lead-in for this interview. Ready?”
Good to know Bellamy believes fervently in love—that’s another sign this interview could boost my business. “As ready as ever,” I say, giving myself another pat on the back for having a clear mind.
I’ve so got this.
17
Oops, I Did It Again
She hands me earphones and then dives in. “You run grand and exclusive underground parties for romance. Why are those better than what singles have been doing for the last decade? Meeting through apps.”
Ah, that’s easy enough to answer. “In my opinion, people were never supposed to meet online. When you meet someone via an app, you lose the most basic ingredient that you need for romantic success.”
“And what’s that?”
I suspect she knows my answer. The one I’ve been giving since I started Carpe Diem. “Chemistry. It matters, don’t you think?”
My gaze locks with hers, and she’s quiet for a beat that’ll be edited out of her show, I bet. But in the silence, a charge flickers between us.
Chemistry indeed.
“Yes, it does. But that’s my question for you. Why does chemistry only come in person? Can’t it come online?”
“You have to swipe on a lot of frogs, Bellamy.”
She smiles in acknowledgement. “True, but is that so bad?”
“Yes, it can be. I’ve made no secret about why I moved out of the online dating business.”
“To build a better mousetrap, I believe you’ve said.”
“Yes. I heard from single women, some men as well, who’d grown not only frustrated but exhausted with online dating. Defeated, even. And I thought there had to be a better way.”
“And in person is just that?”
“Yes, it’s better to meet in person. To meet people with similar interests. Similar goals. At my parties, you can meet people you can trust too.
“Online is the Wild West. My team and I are dedicated and thorough. We research everyone, vet everyone. We make sure there are plenty of potential matches—and that all guests are truly there for the right reasons.”
She stares sharply at me, her expression intense. “You’re a matchmaker.”
“In a way, yes,” I answer. “But we offer many potential matches. It’s like a romance buffet at the parties. Yes, I often have matches in mind for guests, but just as often, chemistry leads the way. You walk into the party hoping to meet someone in particular, and then you spot someone across the bar. Maybe she has hauntingly gorgeous brown eyes and the most inviting lips you’ve ever seen,” I say, and Bellamy’s eyes flicker with a hint of excitement, but it passes quickly. “But how do you know if you’ll spark?” I continue. “You talk to her. You make your way through the crowd, strike up a conversation, and learn she can dress you down with one witty phrase. And soon, you discover she has a fiery personality, a quicksilver tongue, and a heart bigger than you’d thought.”
Her lips twitch in a grin—one she reins in. “But you could find her online too. I bet that woman is on a lot of dating apps. She probably wants to make sure she isn’t going to miss her Prince Charming,” she says.
“And that woman is likely very busy, with friends and family and a rich social life,” I say. “So why should she spend all her time on apps sifting through the chaff?”
“Since you’ve already found the wheat for her?”
“Yes. We have. And that’s what I provide. People have been meeting in person for millennia. I’m simply bringing back what’s always worked. Giving the old-fashioned, tried-and-true method a modern chance.” I cock my head, watching her reaction. “Have you ever met someone in person and every time you’re in the same room with him or her, you feel the heat? The wild, fevered energy?”
“Yes, I have.” It’s a gorgeous, honest answer. But she’s not a woman who bends easily—and I don’t expect her to now. “And you’re the expert on this because of your psychology degree?”
“My master’s degree certainly doesn’t hurt, but I also have real-world experience with apps. The good, the bad, the ugly. I know what works and doesn’t work. I’ve heard stories from users of apps, so I can offer something better in person. And let’s say you meet someone in person—that meeting will make your online exchanges better. Hell, maybe you even trade letters after you meet,” I offer, with a crooked grin.
“An epistolary relationship. How quaint,” she says drily.
But the flicker of heat in her eyes says there’s nothing quaint about our letters. “An epistolary affair can lead to some serious spark. Wouldn’t you say?”
She nibbles on the corner of her lips, a sure sign she’s thinking of our fiery notes. “That’s possible. Letters can be quite . . . sexy,” she says, with a flirty twirl of her hair. “But you keep talking about spark and chemistry. And I know our listeners are wondering—is spark truly everything?”
“It’s vital. And you can’t replicate it in a lab. At the very least, it ought to be part of the foundation of any romance, don’t you think?”
Her eyes say she’s doubtful. “I’m not denying it has some power, and that you’re gleaning how to harvest it. But only for those who’ve been selected by you and who can afford the price of admission.”
“Most apps aren’t free either,” I counter.
“The fee for your parties is so much higher. And sure, maybe you can offer spark. But one person is choosing the spark. You. And what if you’re wrong?”
“But see . . . I’m not choosing the spark. I’m simply offering the opportunity for it to sizzle.”
“So long as you’re lucky enough to score an invite,” she says. “Many of our listeners have told me how terrible it makes them feel if they don’t make your list.”
“Understandably,” I say. “But that’s why I’m here today—the more publicity I receive, the more demand I can create for parties. And the more parties I host, the more people I can help find love.”
We chat more, and she’s tough as nails, as I expected. That’s for the best, though. I don’t want a puff piece but I’m pretty sure I’ve impressed the doubtful.
Soon enough, the interview winds down and she flashes me a professional smile. “Thank you so much for your time, Easton. You have a particular and specific approach when it comes to romance. I appreciate you sharing it. I learned so much about Carpe Diem.”