Chapter 2
After parking his metallic gray Porsche Taycan Turbo S nearby, Bruno walked to the glass and steel building on Peachtree Street in downtown Atlanta that housed Executive Match, Inc.
He took the elevator to the seventh floor and walked down the quiet corridor to double glass doors with Executive Match, Inc. emblazoned in gold and black letters on the front. As soon as he entered, a soft doorbell chimed somewhere in the distance. Seconds later, a woman dressed in a sheath dress with a chic short haircut rounded the corner.
“Mr. Santana?” she said, extending a slim hand as she approached.
He shook it. “Yes.”
“Hello, I’m Lori. Welcome to Executive Match. We look forward to working with you. Right this way, please.”
She led him to a formal sitting room where a cream sofa was positioned across from two high back cream armchairs. A lacquered live edge coffee table sat in the middle.
“Can I get you something to drink while you wait for Ms. Liburd?”
“No, I’m fine, thank you.”
“I’ll let her know you’ve arrived.” Lori exited the room and quietly closed the door.
Bruno walked to the window and peered through the blinds at the passing traffic. After he had contacted the service on Monday, he spoke to a screener who asked him a series of preliminary questions. He hadn’t talked to Ms. Liburd yet, but that would change today when she interviewed him in depth about his preferences.
He didn’t have long to wait before he heard movement behind him.
The woman who entered temporarily gave him pause. He had expected someone older after the screener described Ms. Liburd as “one of the best” in the business, a veteran with eight years’ experience and the highest success rate in the company.
This woman appeared to be in her late twenties or early thirties if he had to guess—and she was beautiful. Not the knock-your-socks-off type. Her attractiveness was more subtle. Subdued.
She had russet-brown skin, and black cat-eye glasses sat on her pert nose but couldn’t hide the sultriness of her dark, friendly eyes—quite at odds with her overall appearance. Her black hair was pulled into a bun at her nape, and there were small round earrings in her ears. She wore simple black slacks and a blouse with a busy print buttoned all the way up to the high collar.
She gave off sexy librarian vibes. The silk blouse draped over her full breasts, which were more than a handful, and despite the straight-legged slacks, his discerning eyes picked up the curvaceous lines of her waist and hips.
“Mr. Santana.” Marissa extended her hand. “I’m Marissa Liburd. Pleasure to meet you.”
Her hand was soft and delicate and dwarfed in his, and the light floral fragrance she wore wafted around them, reminding him of a fresh spring morning in his garden after a rainstorm.
“Call me Bruno, por favor.”
“Okay, Bruno. And you should call me Marissa.” She wasn’t smiling but had such a pleasant face that her lips hinted at a smile.
“I can do that,” he said. “Marissa, I was not pleased about the screening process. My understanding was, you offer a high-end service. I assumed I’d deal directly with you from the beginning.”
“Moving forward, you’ll work with me, but a screening process is necessary because there are men who aren’t as… honest as you are. The screeners are a necessary evil and allow us to ensure that we spend our limited time working with legitimate clients. That way we can give you the attention you deserve.”
Oh, she was good. She smoothed his ruffled feathers and stroked his ego at the same time. He warmed to her immediately.
She flashed a smile. Brief, wide, and open. For one heart-stopping moment, Bruno was stunned. Her entire face lit up, causing him to change his mind about his earlier assessment. This woman was jaw-droppingly gorgeous, and he idly wondered what she’d look like with her hair loose on his pillow. Her thick, long lashes half hiding dark eyes drunk with passion, and those luscious red lips curved in a come-hither smile.
“Please, have a seat. Let’s chat about how we can find you the woman of your dreams.”
When she turned away from him, he assessed her body with blatant male appreciation. Damn.
She was shapely with a nice-sized derrière—his favorite body part on a woman. Nothing made him weaker in the knees than the back view of a woman with a magnificent behind, and hers was perfection. Not huge, but grab-able. What did her legs look like?
Bruno mentally shook himself. He was here to find a wife, not hook up with his matchmaker. Though he wouldn’t be opposed to the idea if she was open to hooking up.
He lowered to the sofa and lifted his right ankle onto his knee. Marissa took one of the chairs across from him and crossed her legs.
She placed a leather-bound notepad on her thigh. “First, let me tell you a little about Executive Match and walk you through our services. Almost thirty years ago, Celestine Rogers formed the company. Ms. Rogers is no longer at the helm, but her children—Arnie and Angela—continue the matchmaking tradition, following her tried and true processes.”
“And what are those processes?” Bruno asked.
“We take our time here. We don’t rush the matchmaking process. We ask you to commit to a year, during which we’ll do our best to find a compatible partner for you—someone who complements your background and preferences.”
“That sounds interesting, but a year is a long time,” Bruno said.
“Finding a wife isn’t like picking out a car,” Marissa said in a gentle voice. “Sure, there are features that you’re interested in, but picking a life partner is much more nuanced. In addition to physical attributes, we need to determine if you’re compatible based on intangibles such as emotional intelligence, goals, values, and family relationships. The screening call was the first step. Today we’ll delve deeper so I can put together a profile of the type of woman who would be a good fit for you, and then I’ll compile a list of prospects. Keep in mind that just because I find a woman who meets your criteria, doesn’t mean that you’ll be right for each other. In fact, she might be right for you, but you’re not right for her. The attraction and compatibility go both ways.”
Bruno hadn’t considered that. “How do you find these women?”
“Some of them are referrals, like you. Others apply on the website, but we also do our own scouting. When I’m out and about and meet someone I think is a good fit for one of our clients—such as yourself—I tell them what I do, hand them a card, and encourage them to apply.”
Bruno frowned. “The process doesn’t sound as scientific as I thought it would be.”
“What did you expect? Algorithms and formulas?”
Her tone was pleasant enough, but he detected a bite in her voice.
“As a matter of fact, I did—to some extent.”
“That’s not how we work. Some of what we do is based on intuition, but most of the process involves reviewing each file and assessing the clients and their potential mates through good old-fashioned analysis. Nothing beats the human factor. But you seem skeptical. Working with a matchmaker involves give and take. A certain amount of trust has to be established. Do you trust us?”
“I don’t,” Bruno said bluntly. He was here, but he had reservations about allowing someone else to take control of his love life.
“Well, Mr. Santana, if that’s the case, there’s no point in continuing this conversation.”
To his surprise, Marissa stood.
He stared up at her in shock. “You’re done?”
“I don’t want to waste your time.” She spoke in the same pleasant voice she’d used the entire meeting. Soothing, almost hypnotizing in its effect.
The seconds ticked by slowly. She had to be bluffing, but the fact that this buttoned up librarian type was not in the least bit intimidated intrigued him.
“Have a seat,” Bruno said.
“Mr. Santan?—”
“I told you to call me Bruno. Have a seat and finish telling me about the process. I’m listening.”
She didn’t sit right away, her gaze steady, as if trying to decide if she should stay or go. Finally, she adjusted the glasses on her nose and returned to her seat. Was that a smirk at the corner of her lips?
“As I was saying…”
Marissa went through her entire spiel about the history of the company and finished with a detailed explanation of how they worked with clients, reiterating that they required at least a one-year commitment from him.
“You really think this process will take a year?” Bruno asked.
“Depends. Some people match quickly, while others take time. You’re thirty-six years old. I assume you’ve been dating at least since the age of eighteen. Eighteen years of dating and you’re not married. Granted, you might not have been looking for a wife all along, but you’ve dated for all that time and aren’t married yet. Give us a year, which is a negligible period when compared to eighteen years, and we’ll probably—no guarantee—find your wife. The most important part of this process is you have to be open to experimentation and finding love. Your soulmate is out there.”
Bruno let out a short, punctuated laugh. “Soulmate? That’s very optimistic, but I don’t believe in soulmates. I don’t even believe marriage is forever. I’m realistic.” He had hardened his heart against falling in love. Been there, done that. “I want a companion and a mother for my children. Hopefully, we—me and the woman you find for me—will have a good ten years or so together. I don’t expect much more.”