Chapter 3
CHAPTER
THREE
OLIVE
My phone ringing draws me out of my racing thoughts.
I’m at the panic over self-imposed deadlines stage of writer’s block.
Honestly, the call is a much-appreciated distraction.
A quick glance at my phone shows me a number I don’t recognize.
Honestly, I’d talk to the people who promise lower interest rates for credit cards I don’t have or those people who want to warn me about my social security number being hacked—anything to get me out of my panic spiral.
“Hello?”
“Hi, may I speak with Olive Lively?”
“This is Olive. How can I help you?”
“Oh good! Hi Olive, this is Rita James. I’m calling about your interest in my services.”
A little thrill of excitement shoots through me when I realize exactly who is calling. It’s been two weeks since Zoe and I filled out my application for Rita Matches. I was beginning to worry that I wouldn’t be accepted. It did warn before I submitted that not all applicants were selected.
“Yes!” I say excitedly. “I mean, yes, I’m interested,” I say, doing my best to sound a little less eager. Lord knows I don’t want her thinking I’m some crazy person right off the bat.
“That’s good, darling. I would love to meet if you’re available tomorrow around eleven?”
I do a little fist pump and dance around the living room. “Yes, I’m free. I would love to meet.”
Rita chuckles, sounding much younger than I know she is. “That’s wonderful.” She rattles off an address for a posh new office building downtown. We say our goodbyes after I assure her that I will be there at eleven sharp.
I hang up the phone, feeling genuinely excited.
Much more so than when I agreed to meet any of the other men I’ve dated.
Something about using a matchmaking service feels different.
I mentally warn myself not to get my hopes up too high, especially after the small sample of single men in New York City that I’ve already met.
I shudder at the thought. It won’t be like that with Rita Matches. She interviews her clients and does her due diligence to make sure that her matches are quality. Her reputation is on the line with every match she makes. The thought is reassuring. Everything will be fine.
I’m standing in front of Rita’s assistant at exactly eleven. The woman gives me a bored smile and points to a small sitting area. “Have a seat. She’ll be with you shortly.”
“Thanks.”
A minute later, the big double doors open, and a handsome man walks out of the office.
He looks down at me with what looks like annoyance.
I have no idea what about me could possibly annoy the man, but I avert my gaze, blushing.
I swear I can feel his eyes boring into me from where he stands just outside the doorway.
“I’m sorry, Harrison.”
The man lets out a heavy sigh. “It’s okay. I’ll be back in an hour.” His voice is smooth and sexy. A low growl that causes my stomach to flip. He’s the kind of man all good romance book heroes are made of. Tall, dark, and handsome rocking an expensive suit and a surly attitude.
Yeah. Definite book fodder for sure.
I’m busy imagining the too attractive to be real man as the hero of my next book when Rita clears her throat to get my attention. Oops. Daydreaming… a hazard of my career. I quickly stand from my chair and offer Rita a smile.
“Olive?”
“Yes. It’s so nice to meet you. I have to admit, I’m a bit of a fan,” I ramble. “My mom read Ask Rita religiously every day.”
Rita smiles kindly. “Well, thank you, dear. It’s a pleasure to help people. Which is why Rita Matches is so important to me. Come into my office, and we will chat.”
I return her smile and follow her into the office. She guides me to a small seating area and offers me tea. I decline, knowing I’m nervous enough to spill it everywhere if I get distracted. She asks me what seems like an endless number of questions. Though the conversation flows easily between us.
“Well, I think that about does it,” she says as the interview winds down. “I think you’re a perfect fit. In fact, I already have someone in mind that will be perfect for you.”
“Really? So fast?” I can’t hide my shocked surprise.
Rita laughs. “Yes, darling. Now, if you’ll just bring me a letter for your match next week, same time, I will get it to your match, and then we will go from there.”
I nibble on my bottom lip. “I thought you did all the correspondence via mail…”
She nods. “Normally, yes, but I think this is for the best.”
I shrug. “Okay. I’ll bring my first letter next Thursday at eleven.”
Rita’s eyes flick back and forth to the clock on the wall several times, and I remember that she’s got a lunch date with the hot guy with the arrogant stare from earlier. “Sounds good. I’ll see you next week.”
I open the door to let myself out and run smack dab into a wall of muscle. Large arms come up and hold me, keeping me from falling on my ass. I gasp and take in the woodsy scent of his cologne.
God, he smells good.
My mind is completely wiped blank of all thought. I know somewhere in the back of my mind that I should be pulling away from him. Apologizing. Taking my hands off his hard… sexy chest. There are so many things I should be doing right now, but I just can’t think of what they are.
I’m jarred from my stupor when his big hands encircle my arms, and he sets me aside.
I let go of his shirt, wincing at how creepy I was just acting.
So embarrassing. His hands immediately pull away, and I feel like I’ve just been dismissed like so much trash.
I’ve never been so embarrassed and humiliated in my whole life.
I apologize for my clumsiness feeling even more foolish when he gives me a pained look of annoyance.
I blush hotly at how attractive I find his surly attitude.
Maybe writing damaged heroes for a living has skewed my feelings toward the opposite sex.
My body has never had such a visceral reaction to a man before.
Despite my humiliation, I find myself giving him a once-over.
Noting the strong cut of his jaw under his perfectly maintained facial hair, his perfectly straight, almost aristocratic nose, and hazel eyes.
His hair is slightly too long for his polished look.
That one flaw just makes him more attractive.
I glance back over my shoulder at Rita and make note of her amused expression.
Such an odd reaction to a humiliating experience.
“Sorry.” I apologize to the broody man once again and then run. Okay, I don’t run, but I definitely speed walk my ass out of there. Of course, the elevator takes forever to help me make my escape. I swear I don’t take a single breath until I’m safely in a cab and on my way home.
I shake my head at myself. I’ve never been so tongue-tied in my whole life. Not for the first time, I wish I had the kind of attitude my best friend has. Zoe doesn’t put up with anyone’s shit. I can imagine her putting the handsome jerk in his place for giving her the same look.
Oh well, at least I’ll never have to see the man again. That’s a small bright side to the situation. I won’t think about the disappointment I feel at knowing I won’t see him again. It’s official, I’ve lost my damn mind.