Page 30 of Love in Fine Print

Rate your date from one to ten.

Ten. She was a hard nut to crack, but I’m a nutcracker.

Describe your date in one sentence.

Kitty had claws, but I like a scratcher.

“What the fuck?”I said aloud.

He sounded like a total prick. I checked and saw that Olivia still hadn’t replied to the email requesting feedback. I wondered if she’d actually liked him. Some women liked assholes, but she didn’t strike me as one of those women.

I looked at my phone and was tempted to call and check in on her to make sure she was okay and to tell her I would have never knowingly set her up with that asshole. It was the algorithm.

Beside me Dolly stirred then stood up. I bent down to pet her, but she ran to the door a second before it opened. As if I’d summoned her, Olivia walked in looking more beautiful than any woman had a right to look.

Her long blonde hair was pulled up off her face in a ponytail accentuating her large eyes and sensual lips. She wore black yoga pants and a long-sleeved white zip-up jacket over a pink sports bra. The hint of cleavage made me sweat for an entirelydifferent reason. Her face was free of makeup, her skin glowed, and she had a blush on her cheeks. Oh, and she did not look happy.

I was so shocked by her arrival I didn’t even notice Dolly jump on her. Again.

“No, Dolly. Down!” I commanded as I stood.

Both Olivia and Dolly ignored me completely. Olivia bent down and rubbed Dolly’s ears which was when I noticed she was still wearing a cast. Her expression softened as she told Dolly what a beautiful, good girl she was. For that split second, the hard exterior, the mask that she presented to the world, disappeared. She looked soft, and vulnerable and…sweet.

It was fascinating, mesmerizing, and enchanting. I was completely beguiled by the transformation, but when she straightened back up and looked in my direction, the walls were back up. If looks could kill, I would be fatally wounded.

“Hi,” I smiled, despite the daggers that were being thrown in my direction. I couldn’t help it. When I saw her, my lips automatically curled up. It was a problem. “It’s good to see you.”

That probably wasn’t the right thing to say. I knew that. First of all, she was a client who was clearly unhappy. Secondly, it was clear she didn’t share my sentiment. So why had I just made an ass of myself?

“This isn’t a social call,” she informed me.

I nodded as I cleared my throat and held my hand out. “Please, sit.”

She crossed the room and lowered into the chair. Dolly circled around her feet before flopping down in front of her.

“How did the date go with Darius?” I asked, figuring that was most likely why she was sitting in my office on a Saturday morning at ten.

“It was a shitshow from beginning to end. I don’t know what made you assume that I’d like to be with a chauvinistic, misogynistic pig.”

“You had a ninety-seven percent compatibility score.”

“How is that possible?”

“Well, the program takes the responses from your profile and cross-reference—” A strange look crossed her face that caused me to stop speaking and ask, “What?”

“My profile?”

“Yes, the profile that you filled out.”

Her jaw ticked and her eyes narrowed. “I’m going to kill him.”

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