Chapter 13 #2
“Look, on dating apps, people can hide who they are.” Derick tipped the salon tech with cash.
“Doesn’t matter how many times you chat, text, or talk over the phone, nothing counts until you meet someone in person.
It has to do with chemistry or vibes or just how you feel around them.
People can’t hide who they are in real life. The real you shows through.”
Jamie considered this. A woman directly across from them looked up at their conversation. She spoke in a lower voice. “Have you not noticed that I’m one step above a shut-in? How do I market that? I’m working hard here. Dating is awful. What if I meet a psycho?”
“That is your trained profession, right? You are a forensic psychologist? You can suss out a psycho faster than Clarice Starling.”
“True. My knowledge of psychopathic methodologies does come in handy,” Jamie said.
Again, she noticed the woman across the salon raise a perfectly tweezed eyebrow.
Jamie looked at the magazine in the woman’s lap.
It was upside down. Which meant she was actively trying to listen in on their conversation.
Jamie abruptly stopped talking and motioned to Derick that a stranger was eavesdropping.
Derick looked over at the woman, assessed her, and said, “Excuse me, are those the newest Jimmy Choos?”
The woman shot Derick an approving look. “Indeed, just picked them up yesterday.” She got up from her salon chair and with toilet paper still wedged between her newly polished toes, strode over with her Jimmy Choos in hand and introduced herself.
“I’m Lorna Gray.”
“Enchanté,” Derick said as he took her hand.
Even though Derick had made a connection over fashion couture, Jamie remained suspect.
Lorna was smooth and striking. Her auburn hair was slicked back into a sleek ponytail.
She had smart, sharp eyes that Jamie suspected didn’t miss a thing.
Her lip gloss glinted in the light like a fishing lure, and she had a small dark beauty mark above her right lip.
She spoke in a friendly, persuasive tone, as if she were cajoling a good friend to jump off a bridge.
“I couldn’t help overhearing your conversation,” Lorna said. “Maybe I can help. I own a company called Dinner for Six. It’s a dating service located in Redondo Beach.”
Okay, so that was it.
Quick to dismiss her sales-y, aggressive vibes, Jamie said, “Thanks but no thanks.”
“Hold on,” Derick said, as he grabbed Jamie’s wrist like a mother dragging her daughter back to an incredible sale on sweaters. “Tell us more. My friend Jamie here is on the hunt.”
“You make it sound like I’m out to collect a bounty.”
“You are, it’s called inheritance,” Derick muttered and turned his full attention to Lorna. “Tell us more.”
Lorna gave a rehearsed smile. “I put six discerning, attractive, eligible adults together for dinner. Three men. Three women. The caliber of people I curate is a cut above what you find on dating apps since I prescreen every candidate personally. My success rate is, shall we say, exponentially higher than any other option you’ll find.
Plus, I charge a small fortune. Which tends to keep the derelicts away. ”
“That’s quite a pitch,” Jamie said, then quickly assessed Lorna.
Savvy. Enterprising. Sinister? Why was she picking up sinister?
Didn’t exactly add up to matchmaker. But then again, she was no expert on dating.
Maybe you had to be a little more ruthless when picking matches.
Lord knows, Jamie had failed spectacularly time and time again.
She was curious. She had to admit a group blind date was a totally novel approach.
Derick was nodding along and said to Jamie, “I think this might be an option you should explore.”
Jamie was fresh out of arguments and without a concrete reason to not like Lorna, she gave in. “Can’t be worse than a guy living in the desert eating his own cactus.”
“That’s the spirit,” Derick said.
“I couldn’t help hearing that you’re a forensic psychologist?” Lorna asked.
“Was. I interviewed criminals and testified about their behavior,” Jamie said.
“Fascinating. I imagine you have a very keen sense of the criminal mind.”
“I do. But sadly, now I work with C-suite egomaniacs as a leadership coach. They share a lot of the same character traits.”
“That tracks,” Lorna agreed. “How has dating online been going?”
Jamie hesitated, not willing to spill all the horrid details, her failings, her bad judgment. Before she could answer, Lorna added, “I sense you’ve seen your fair share of dating disasters.”
“More than any woman needs in a lifetime,” Jamie said, as if someone finally understood her.
Lorna raised an eyebrow. “Want to meet a more discerning crowd?”
“Yes, please,” she answered just a little too quickly.
“Here’s my card.” Lorna produced a pale pink card—the luxurious kind, not the cheap crap—with red lettering, and a logo of a table surrounded by six silhouettes. “I look forward to exploring the possibilities.”
Jamie took her card. Lorna put on her shoes and made for the door with a wave. “Ta! See you soon.”
Derick motioned for the nail tech to come back and deal with Jamie. “Her unwieldy eyebrows are next.” The nail tech pursed her lips and nodded, seemingly up for the challenge.
Jamie gave herself over to the self-care givers and sighed. “What would I do without you, Derick?”
“Die as a lonely recluse discovered by the delivery guy, the poor bastard,” Derick joked and then softened. “You deserve to find your version of Martin, too.”