Chapter 3
Marissa couldn’t believe her ears, but she had been in this business long enough to keep the shock off her face. “Sounds like you’re looking for a temporary wife,” she told Bruno.
“I’m looking for a wife. I expect my marriage to be temporary.” His tone was very matter-of-fact.
“And why is that?”
Probing deeper meant she’d get a better understanding of potential hang-ups and hopefully help her find the right woman for him. At least she hoped so. This was their initial meeting, but she was beginning to have her doubts. Dealing with high-profile, wealthy men presented a unique set of problems. They tended to be picky and have unrealistic expectations.
“The divorce rate is astronomical. I’ve seen enough relationships that didn’t last, despite the couples swearing they were in love at the time they married. I’ve observed it in my own family. Love is an illusion, easily discarded when one person or both don’t get what they want right away.” He spoke the last two words with intense distaste.
Huh. There was something there they might have to explore at a later date.
“I see. That might happen to the average person, but working with Executive Match increases your chance of having a marriage that will last a lifetime.”
“Increases the chance, but does not… guarantee.” A smile touched his lips.
Marissa answered his statement with a faint smile of her own.
Touché. He had used her own words against her. Bruno Santana was definitely going to be a challenge, but she was up for the challenge. Based on the preliminary interview, he was a darn near perfect bachelor. Wealthy—though they needed to verify his financial status. Never married before and no kids, so no children or ex-wife to worry about that could potentially cause friction in his relationship down the road.
She couldn’t deny he was appealing and caused an odd awareness to flicker beneath her skin. Physically, he checked all the right boxes. Fit and handsome with black-as-night hair combed in voluminous waves away from his face, olive-toned skin darkened by stubble and thick eyebrows above mesmerizing gray eyes.
He knew how to dress too. Another plus. Not everyone in his income bracket dressed well. Elegant in a crisp white shirt, gray tailored slacks, and black Italian leather loafers, he’d be downright deadly in a suit.
Born in Mexico and raised in Colombia, his velvety voice contained a hint of his Hispanic roots. Enough to make women who loved a foreign accent swoon. Meanwhile, a casual air of arrogance surrounded him, as if he knew he was the total package and any woman she matched him with would be the lucky one—not the other way around.
“Correct, no guarantees. May I continue?” Marissa asked.
“Please.”
They both spoke in a polite tone, an underlying thread of tension in their voices.
“Why now? What made you decide to look for a wife at this moment in time?” Her pen remained poised above her notepad. While her colleagues used electronic tablets to avoid the task of having to transfer the information into the database, she preferred the comfort of note-taking with paper and ink and doing the transfer later.
“I wish I could say there was a profound reason, such as a health scare, but…” He paused and considered his answer before continuing, stretching one long arm along the back of the sofa. “I grew up in a wealthy household, and I have now become a wealthy man in my own right. I have plenty of culinary and business achievements. But the truth is, I have no one to share these things with. As I mentioned, I’m seeking companionship. I don’t want or need to fall in love. Compatibility is more important than love. Which means, when I find the right woman, I don’t intend to waste time. I want to get married right away.”
“Good to know. In the initial interview, you mentioned that you’re looking for someone with a great sense of humor who is outgoing, is that correct?” Marissa wrote notes as she asked the question.
“Yes, and a great conversationalist is a must. I can’t tell you how difficult it is to find someone who can carry on a good conversation.”
Unhappiness seeped into his voice. She’d heard the same complaint from both men and women.
She made eye contact with him, her dark eyes meeting his gray ones. His stare was mesmerizing, bold, and intense, and a thousand butterflies swooped to the base of her belly. What was it about this man that made her so… anxious?
Marissa resettled in the chair to slough off the odd feelings pervading this meeting with him. “Let’s talk a little about what you’re looking for in a woman. We’ll begin with physical attributes. What features do you find attractive in a potential partner?”
“I’m not particularly picky in that area.”
“Mr. Santana, for this to work, you have to be honest. Don’t be shy. Nothing is off the table or inappropriate. Your honesty ensures that I find the best candidate for you.”
“Fair enough,” he said with a nod.
“So, do you have any preferences regarding height, body type, or hair color?” Marissa waited for his answer, her pen poised over the notepad again.
“Yes and no. I’ve dated women of all sizes and heights. I prefer blondes, though I’ve dated redheads and brunettes.”
“But ideally you’d prefer a blonde?”
“Yes.”
Marissa wrote that down. “What about physique? What’s your preference?”
He thought for a moment. “Ideally, someone who’s physically fit, but it’s not a requirement. I love to cook and part of my networking involves going to restaurants and cocktail parties where we enjoy all types of food. A woman who can’t eat carbs or is terrified of having dessert with her meal would be a problem.”
Marissa nodded. As a foodie herself, the woman who ended up with this man would be fortunate indeed. She’d once heard there were over 6,000 restaurants in the Atlanta area alone, and despite her best efforts to eat at as many of them as possible, she’d never be able to visit them all in her lifetime. Dating a chef would be the next best thing.
“I also like women with great breasts and a nice ass.”
His gaze drifted subtly over her body, and warmth flushed every inch of her skin. She almost thought he was talking about her breasts and ass.
Marissa shifted in the chair again. “That’s good information. Are you open to dating women of other races?”
“I love women, full stop. I don’t discriminate.” Once again, his eyes lingered on her in an assessing way, which constricted her breathing.
She cleared her throat. “That certainly widens the pool of options. What age range would you consider?”
“Although I’m open to dating women older than I am, I’m well aware that a woman in her forties is less likely to want children. I’d say twenty-eight to mid-thirties is the perfect age range.”
Marissa wrote that down. “Let’s talk personality. What type of personality do you think is essential in a long-term partner? Give me your top three requirements.”
He stared out the window behind her, his brow puckering as he considered the question. “As I mentioned before, I definitely would prefer a woman with a good sense of humor, someone who can laugh at herself and doesn’t take life too seriously. She must also be educated.”
“College educated?”
His frown deepened. “No, not necessarily. Maybe I should have said intelligent. Someone who can carry on conversations about various topics. As I said, a good conversationalist is important. My wife needs to be able to fit into different social environments. A chameleon. She should also be outgoing. Wherever we are in the world, I need her to be comfortable, whether or not I’m at her side, and she needs to represent me well when interacting with friends and business associates.”
Sense of humor. Intelligent. Good conversationalist.
As Marissa wrote, she asked the next question. “You’re an entrepreneur. Are you looking for a woman who is also an entrepreneur? Perhaps ambitious and goal-oriented?”
“That isn’t necessary for me. I make plenty of money, and my wife will be well taken care of. In fact, I’d prefer she not have the distraction of a demanding job, so she can travel with me and attend social events as I need her to.”
“And what are you not looking for in a partner? What are your deal breakers?”
He paused as he thought.
“No one who is messy. She doesn’t have to be a neat freak, but lack of cleanliness is a no go. I also don’t care for women who are catty and constantly negative. I’m more interested in someone who has a positive outlook on life.”
“You told our screener that you ski in the winter and enjoy sailing and fishing in the summertime. Are there any other interests you’d like to mention?”
“Cooking, of course, because I’m a chef. I’m often testing recipes, that kind of thing. Extended family is important to me. I come from a large clan, and we spend a lot of time together. Anyone I’m involved with has to be family-oriented.”
“You mentioned children earlier. How many would you like to have?”
“Two is enough.”
“What if you met someone who checked all your boxes but didn’t want children? Would that work?”
“No,” Bruno said swiftly, with a head shake. “My primary goal is to find a wife, but children are a must. You can put that down as one of my deal breakers—a woman who doesn’t want children. And no pawning them off on the nanny. She must be a loving and involved parent. The nanny should not be the primary caregiver.”
He spoke with such hard resolution in his voice, Marissa suspected he had experience in that area.
He continued. “I would want to have children within a year or two of marriage, early enough in my life to enjoy activities with them. Frankly, they’ve practically been mandated by my parents.”
Marissa heard dry humor in his voice and smiled. “Parents can be very demanding in that area.”
“Particularly Black and Latino parents.”
She frowned, surprised.
“My stepmother is Black and has been asking for grandchildren for some time,” he explained. “My father is no better. I’m the second oldest in my family, therefore the pressure is intense. We’re a family of nine with seven kids.”
Her eyes widened. “That’s a large family.”
Bruno laughed. The sound took her breath away and stroked her nipples, making them tighten. His laugh was sexy, and that smile was dangerously seductive. Wow. Marissa dipped her eyes to the notepad.
“My father had three sons, and my stepmother had three kids when they married.”
“Sounds like a modern-day Brady Bunch, but that’s six children, not seven.”
“Then they had one together, making seven of us. The baby, as we teasingly call him, is currently completing his medical residency.”
He spoke with such warmth in his voice, she understood why a family-oriented woman was important. He clearly had a great relationship with his family. She envied him.
“Two children and family-oriented. It’s good you have such clarity. We can certainly make that clear to the women we interview, to ensure we choose candidates who are on the same page.”
“I do have one more deal breaker that I should mention. I’m not interested in anyone who already has children. I’ve gone down that messy and dramatic road before, and I’d prefer not to do so again.”
His dismissal of single mothers tightened her chest. She shouldn’t be surprised. Quite a few people had an aversion to single parents, but it didn’t fail to hurt when they made their thoughts known.
“Understood.” Marissa noted her pad.