Page 1 of Becoming His Muse
Prologue
Olani looked over the screen of her laptop one final time. In all honesty, she was stalling, and she knew it. Part of it was because she knew what she was doing was out there, farfetched by normal standards, and would likely yield nothing tangible. The other part was because she couldn’t believe that she was actually thinking about going through with it.
She’d created a simple website that she was now debating on publishing; she even planned to start a social media page to advertise it, albeit anonymously. The last thing she wanted was for her name to be tied to it, especially with the purpose she hoped it served.
This was ridiculous, stupid even. Not to mention dangerous, but she supposed that it was no more dangerous than conventional online dating and people did that all the time.
Getting up from her couch, she went into the kitchen and picked up the bottle of wine she’d started when she arrived home after the idea first hit her. Pouring the rest of it into her glass, she leaned against the bar, drinking it. Contemplating on whether or not she was going to hit that publish button. Whether or not she would go through with the spur-of-the-moment idea that stemmed from another lousy failed date.
There had to be a better way to find suitable people to date and build a future with. She wanted someone who shared her interests and was looking for the same things. For her, that included marriage. Those thoughts went through her head when the idea came to her on her drive home.
She could create her own dating site and have a pool of candidates to choose from. Sure, those signing up would assume there were multiple women on the site, but that was a problem for sober her. Besides, it wasn’t like she would advertise that there were a plethora of women, just that men could send in their profiles.
Downing the rest of her wine, she mumbled fuck it, under her breath and returned to her living room, plopping down heavily onto her couch. She pressed publish on the website. Then, made a page for it on different social media sites and paid their advertising fees to have it pushed out over their systems.
Olani knew she would probably regret this in hindsight. There would likely be nothing but weirdos who submitted to the site, if anyone did at all. And while she knew it was a bizarre idea, it could yield results. Whether they would be positive or not was another story.
As she looked at the screen, she was very tempted to delete the posting she’d just sent out. To delete it all, really, as thewords housed on it stared back at her.A new social site for singles looking to skip the lengthy dating process and settle down with someone whose goals, likes, and values mirror their own. Currently open to all men. Gentlemen, fill out your husband applications today.
Olani closed the screen on her laptop, took it, and placed it on her bookshelf. Going back into the kitchen, she pulled another bottle of wine from her wine fridge only to put it back. She was sure she didn’t need any more liquid courage that night. Instead, she decided to head into her bathroom and run a nice hot bubble bath because she had a feeling she was in for a long week.
1
“You did what?” Xola questioned a few days later as they were having lunch together.
Olani and her cousin made it a point to have lunch and dinner together once a week. She’d been tempted to call her the morning after she’d lost her mind and made a husband application site. However, she’d decided that she wanted to tell her in person. Granted, Olani was giving herself time to see if she would leave it up or take it down.
Once she published it, she hadn’t even looked at anything related to it, turning off her notifications for the email she’d made to link to it.
“You heard me,” Olani responded because she knew her cousin did not need her to repeat what she’d said.
“What could have possibly made you want to do something like this?”
“It seemed like a good idea at the time. A way to take away the hassle and possibility of bad dates.”
“Dating is half the fun,” Xola informed her.
“You aren’t wrong, and I’m not saying get rid of it altogether, but this way, you know if the person you’re dating has the same end goal as you, or if they’re dating just to do so, and waste your time.”
“Okay, I’ll give it to you. You have a point, but what happens when a bunch of weirdos get on this site you made, see your picture, and try to find you through other means to do who only knows what.”
“They won’t see my picture. The website is just an introduction to the services offered, and the men fill out a survey and give information on themselves. They don’t have to submit a picture, but they do have to consent to a background check,” Olani told her before sipping her drink. “If I like them, and we have things in common, I send over the survey I filled out as a match. If they accept, an initial first date is set up through the site, and if that date goes well, the rest are set up the same way. It’s all pretty anonymous until the actual meeting.”
Olani wasn’t crazy enough to just plaster her picture onto the site. She was running it as if there were multiple women available to be matched with the men who may submit information. She also knew that running a background check on them wouldn’t guarantee that whoever they were wasn’t some sort of lunatic, but it would help rule out those with criminal records. She already paid for a background check service for her business, so she’d use that to run them.
“And these dates will occur in a crowd full of people?” Xola questioned.
“Yes, they will. I’ll even give you the time and place; you can be there watching like a stalker from the shadows if you want.”
“Good, because I don’t want you going alone.” Xola took a drink of her lemonade. “I suppose what you’re doing isn’t all that crazy. There are dating websites and matchmakers for everything nowadays.”
Olani nodded in agreement. “Besides, there may not even be anyone who signs up or isn’t just looking for a quick booty call.”
Their server approached with their food, and they allowed a lull in conversation until the other woman was gone. “So, how’s work?” Olani questioned after blessing her food.
“It’s been an interesting couple of weeks. I have a new and unique client. I’ve seen them six times, and each time, they insist on bringing their most recent sexual partner with them, and it hinders progress because the session starts, runs, and ends the same.”
Olani knew Xola couldn’t and wouldn’t tell her more than that. Her cousin was a Certified Sex Addiction Therapist, and honestly, had someone told Olani that Xola, who’d started her first year of college as an education major, would end up with the career field she was in now, she wouldn’t have believed them.
