4. Chapter Four
Chapter Four
“He’s the worst,” Gigi declared to her friends, Alice and Paige. The three of them were cozied up in Alice’s apartment for their weekly “Yappy Hour,” which included margaritas, girl talk, and various other activities. They cooked together, watched movies, and did a lot of laughing. Tonight, they were knitting—a hobby Alice had recently picked up. As the crafter of the group, she was teaching Gigi and Paige, and Gigi found the rhythmic click of the needles oddly soothing. Paired with great conversation and drinks, it was the perfect antidote to a stressful week.
“He just walked in and started barking orders?” Alice’s eyes were wide and unbelieving. She stared at Gigi from the armchair where she sat cross-legged, dressed in leggings and a cowlneck sweater. Two needles moved swiftly in her hands, pulling from the bundle of yarn in her lap.
“Yeah,” Gigi huffed and snuggled deeper into the couch’s big pillow, leaving her needles and yarn splayed out on the cushion next to her. She had exactly two rows of stitches completed on a scarf she wanted to give to her sister for Christmas. Alice had helped her restart it three times. Instead of working on her gift, Gigi was petting Alice’s husky black-and-white cat, Mister Tuxedo. He purred in her lap. “He made some flippant comment about SheTime not being profitable and said he was going to ‘fix’ that.” She made air quotes, along with a disgusted face. “Then he stared me down with those grumpy, sea-glass eyes like I was the bane of his existence.”
“Sea-glass eyes?” Paige piped up, showing interest in the one descriptor Gigi hadn’t meant to divulge. “You conveniently forgot to tell us what Harris looks like. Is your new boss a hunk?” Paige had barely recovered from her giggle fit after Gigi had reenacted her encounter with Harris in the elevator. “So . . . what does he look like? Do tell.” Paige was spread across the other armchair, her legs hanging over one armrest, a half-empty margarita glass in one hand. The salted rim was inches from her lips.
“He’s not ugly,” Gigi admitted, noncommittally. “But he’d be a lot cuter if he wasn’t trying to blow up my life.”
“Why didn’t Dean promote you to director, in place of Kim?” Alice asked. “You’ve been running that division for years.”
“Yeah, you seriously do it all. You could step right into Kim’s role,” Paige added.
Gigi smiled at her supportive friends. “Thanks, guys.” The thought had crossed her mind as well. She would’ve jumped at the chance for the promotion, but wasn’t given the option. “I guess I don’t have the right last name.”
“That’s stupid.” Paige sipped her drink and tucked her dark, curly hair behind an ear. “I guarantee you’re more qualified than Harris. Even if it is his family’s business.”
“Why’d he come back suddenly?” Alice asked, quirking a brow.
“I’m not sure,” Gigi said, recounting Harris’s disapproving looks and all the rumors she’d heard. “But I think he’s got something to prove.” In the conference room, she could almost see a chip sitting on his shoulder.
“Like what?” Paige slid her legs off the armrest, sitting up curiously. She leaned forward, sipping her margarita while peering at Gigi over the rim. “You have some juicy gossip to share?”
The three of them shared everything. Nothing went outside of their circle—unless Paige put it in one of her books. But even then, names were changed, and Paige tweaked the information to fit her stories. Gigi loved reading Paige’s books and finding Easter eggs that only she and Alice would catch.
Pursing her lips, Gigi considered her intel and then spewed it. “He’s the oldest son. Used to work for his dad a decade ago, alongside Dean. Something happened. I’m not sure what, but I’m going to get to the bottom of it. He quit and ran off to New York City. Hasn’t been back to the office until now.”
“He hasn’t been back for ten years?” The needles in Alice’s hands moved faster, blazing through another row of the blanket she was knitting. She leaned forward, waiting for more information. “What’s he been doing?”
Gigi quirked a brow, ready to clue her friends in on the next juicy tidbit. “You know that dating app, GambleOnLove?” She scratched Mister Tuxedo’s head. He rolled around in her lap, purring louder.
“I’ve heard of it.” Alice paused, tugging at one of her stitches. “I think.”
“The one that’s like Russian Roulette?” Paige cocked her head, using one of her knitting needles as a stir stick—which was how she preferred to use her needles. Ice clinked against the glass. “Isn’t that the app that was all over the news when the governor used it to cheat on his wife?”
“Yep, that’s it,” Gigi confirmed, reaching for the saucy plate of meatballs on the coffee table and poking one with a toothpick. “Harris Ryan created it. He owns GambleOnLove.” She popped the meatball in her mouth and chewed, feeling vindicated in her disapproval of her new boss.
“The app?” Paige gasped, halting her stirring. “He’s got to be worth a fortune. That app blew up after it was all over the news.”
Gigi licked sauce from her bottom lip, enjoying the spicy tang of the meatballs she’d whipped up last night. “I’m more concerned that the guy who created a hook-up app will now run SheTime. Obviously, he doesn’t know what women want or need, and that’s going to be a problem.” She didn’t care about his net worth. She cared that he was going to mess with her job.
Paige nodded slowly, considering Gigi’s predicament. “That could definitely make your day-to-day interesting.”
“Interesting? I was thinking more along the lines of painful.” Gigi sighed, slumping back against the couch and running through all the ways Harris could upend all her hard work.
“How does the app work?” Alice asked, pulling her long, silky hair over a shoulder and out of her cowlneck. “It’s been so long since I’ve been in the dating scene. All these apps are like a foreign language to me.”
It didn’t surprise Gigi that Alice wasn’t familiar with GambleOnLove. She’d been dating her boyfriend for seven years and waiting on an engagement ring for the past six—which really irritated both Gigi and Paige. How could Alice’s boyfriend not put a ring on it? She was an absolute catch. Total devoted-wifey material.
“I’m not exactly sure how it works.” Gigi didn’t know the details, except what she heard on the news. She stayed off dating apps. Even if she was looking for love, she’d much prefer finding it organically. Like at a farmer’s market. Or a coffee shop. She didn’t trust anyone hiding behind technology. “But I know it’s anonymous. That’s why the governor was using it. It’s completely anonymous until you meet your match in person. No pictures or anything.”
“What?” Alice asked, with a gasp. “So, you don’t even get to see the person until you meet them?”
“Yep,” Gigi confirmed.
Alice and Gigi wrinkled their noses at each other, disturbed by the concept, but Paige had other ideas. She grabbed her phone and started tapping away.
“Now you’ve got me curious.” Paige focused on her phone. “I need to know how this app works. I’m downloading it now.”
“What? No!” Gigi yelped, but she couldn’t deny she was also curious. Especially since the creator was her new boss. She’d be spending a lot of time with him from now until Christmas.
“It’s research. We’re getting to the bottom of this,” Paige declared, in her I’m-not-taking-no-for-an-answer voice. Gigi chuckled, knowing she couldn’t stop her. Out of the group, Paige was the most daring. She enjoyed pushing boundaries, and Gigi admired her for it. Even if she thought it was a waste of time to research Harris’s app.
As Paige set up the app, Gigi grabbed her needles and completed a few more stitches, though they didn’t look anywhere near as neat as Alice’s work. Hopefully, Gigi’s sister wouldn’t mind a scarf that looked like an abstract piece of art. She plucked at a loose stitch. At least it’d be warm.
“Okay, okay. Here’s the gist of it.” Paige held up a finger, getting everyone’s attention. She scrolled. “You have to set up a profile, using your basic information, interests, location, and dating preferences, but the only public-facing information is your username.”
Gigi set her needles on her lap, on top of Mister Tuxedo. “OMG! I just remembered the governor’s username . . . it was HangingWithMyGnomies!”
“No!” Alice giggle-squeaked.
“Yes!” Gigi replied, before they all broke into belly laughs.
“That’s so wrong and so funny!” Paige huffed and shook her head. Her eyes traveled back to her phone, scrolling to read more. “When you’re ready to be matched, you spin a virtual wheel, and the app uses an algorithm to pair users, based on their location, interests, and compatibility. Once you’re matched, you can start messaging each other, but no photos can be shared.”
“I guess that’s kind of nice,” Alice said with a shrug. “At least it’s keeping people from matching solely on physical appearance.”
“I don’t know. Seems weird to me.” Gigi took a sip of her margarita, thinking about the dating scene and all the app options. She ran a hand over Tux’s fluffy black body. He stretched out and yawned. “There are a ton of dating apps that match on compatibility. This one just seems shady. Like it was designed for cheaters.”
“Yeah, I could see that.” Alice tilted her head, pursing her lips. “So, what happens if you actually want to meet the person you’re messaging? How are you supposed to meet if you don’t know what that person looks like?”
Paige silently read, swirling her margarita. The ice clinked in her glass like a ticking clock, amping up the suspense. “Okay. So, if both parties agree to meet, the app will again spin a wheel, choosing a specific meeting location and first date for the couple. It also gives them a secret word so they can confirm the person when they meet.”
“Really?” Gigi asked. “Like you’re just supposed to just walk up to a guy at a restaurant and ask him for a secret password? Or yell out some random word like ‘bananas’ until your date finds you? And how are you supposed to know you’re not meeting a serial killer?”
Alice gasped at the last question. “Good point!” She stopped knitting for a moment, looking as though she were imagining meeting a murderer for cheeseburgers and fries.
“How are we supposed to know anyone we meet isn’t a serial killer?” Paige stared at Gigi and Alice like that was an obvious observation. “Most serial killers won’t divulge that about themselves.”
Gigi scrunched her nose. Paige was right. “Still, the app makes it easy for people to hide their identity. Seems like it would attract people with bad intentions, or just people looking for hookups. Anyone seriously looking for love won’t use it.”
Alice agreed, nodding her head. Paige looked as though she were considering all the reasons someone would be on the app. She set her phone on the coffee table, ate a meatball, and took a slurp of her margarita.
“Yeah, I guess it sounds like more of a hook-up app. But it also sounds like it could be fun. Spontaneous .” Paige challenged both Gigi and Alice with a quirk of her brow. “Plus, just because you see a guy’s face and know their name before you meet them, doesn’t mean they’re not a weirdo. My dating history is proof of that. Do you remember the foot-fetish guy?”
Gigi was mid-sip. She covered her mouth, barely stopping herself from spitting her margarita all over Mister Tuxedo. Forcing a swallow, she dabbed her mouth on her sweatshirt sleeve before laughing. “I almost forgot about that guy!”
Alice laughed along. “Oh, that guy was a creepo!”
“Yeah, made me think twice about wearing open-toe shoes on a first date. I had no idea red toenail polish could be a beacon for weirdos.” Paige slid back in her chair. She shook her head with a chuckle. “Dating is pretty strange, if you really think about it.” She stared at the ceiling, lost in thought. “Like how the heck are we supposed to find true love amongst a mess of strangers? Just because I’m attracted to someone’s muscular forearms doesn’t mean the guy is going to satisfy all my needs and wants for eternity.”
Gigi grinned at Paige’s flowery description of dating. She wasn’t wrong.
“But that creep gave you great writing inspiration,” Alice noted, referring to the villain Paige had created for a romantic suspense novel a few years back—a kidnapper with a penchant for painted toes. The first book in a series that launched her successful writing career.
Paige sat up straight in her chair. “It did, didn’t it?”
Gigi immediately shook her head, following Paige’s train of thought. “No one needs you to test out this app just to get writing inspiration.”
“I bet it would give me some great ideas.” Paige’s eyes were wide, like she’d just discovered a hundred-dollar bill hidden in her coat pocket.
Gigi tilted her head, knowing she wouldn’t change Paige’s mind. “Please promise me you’ll tell us exactly where you’re going if you decide to meet up with someone.”
“I’ll send you a pin of my location.” Paige smirked, and Gigi shook her head. “But let’s get back to the topic at hand—your grumpy, rich, hot boss that’s currently blowing up your life.” Paige leaned against the armrest, setting her chin on her fist. “How do we stop him from being a pain and instead get him to take you on some fancy date that involves a helicopter and a private island?”
Gigi rolled her eyes and laughed. “First of all, that only happens in books.”
“Or on The Bachelor ,” Alice chimed in, like that show mirrored real life.
“Another piece of fiction,” Gigi replied good-naturedly. All three of them loved The Bachelor . When the show was on, their Yappy Hours consisted of watching the latest episodes and dissecting all the drama. “Also, he’s my boss. I can’t date him. I’d like to stay out of HR and keep my job, thank you very much.” Even as she said it, Gigi had to stuff down the memory of being splayed across Harris. She cleared her throat when she remembered the hard planes of his chest and her pulse started snapping.
“Well, that’s boring,” Paige said, looking disappointed.
“I just need to figure out how to make him back off,” Gigi added. “I don’t want him making a bunch of changes that are going to mess everything up.”
Alice and Paige nodded, their gazes going unfocused, like they’d put on their thinking caps to come up with a way to fix Gigi’s conundrum. That’s what they did for one another.
Alice tapped her chin. “You’re doing the entire Gal’s Gift Guide with him?”
“Looks like it,” Gigi answered with a nod. “I need a second person to represent the company. Each of the activities is made for groups of two or more. Plus, I need another person to help take pictures and videos for SheTime’s social.”
“Can you lock him in the office supply closet and bring me instead?” Paige asked, as if this were a good option.
“I’d prefer not to go to jail.” Wishing she could do that—but knowing she couldn’t—Gigi sipped her drink. “Plus, it needs to be someone from the company and Dean seems intent on sending his brother.”
“Why don’t you make every single activity completely miserable for Harris until he gives up and sends someone else?” Alice asked as she knitted, her eyes on the needles like she hadn’t just come up with an idea that was completely devious . . . and genius.
Gigi and Paige stared at her. Alice was sweet and innocent, but mess with one of her friends and her claws came out.
“That—” Gigi started, lowering her margarita from her lips. “Might work.”
Alice smiled mischievously. “What’s your event tomorrow? We can brainstorm ideas to make Harris squirm.”
Paige jumped up from the chair. “This is going to require another batch of margaritas!” She spun toward the kitchen.
Gigi laughed, the stress of the day melting away. This was why she loved her friends—one of the many reasons. They supported each other through everything, no matter how big or small.
“Tomorrow is Christmas karaoke,” Gigi started. “‘Merry-oke,’ to be exact. And I need an idea for a song. Something completely obnoxious.”