Page 23 of Minted

“I messaged them, remember?” I gesture for the phone. “Gimme.”

He hands me his phone, and I pull up the message. “Lila says she’d love to get to know you better,” I say. “I think we go ahead and meet her. Yes?”

“Who’s Lila?” He looks lost.

“Lila the Librarian,” I say. “She was the most promising one.”

“I don’t think you told me her name, and I disagree that she’s the most promising.”

I tap a few things into the app, and hit send. “Well, I guess you’ll find out the night after tomorrow, won’t you?”

“Two days?” All the blood drains from his face. “I need more time to prepare.”

“Trust me,” I say. “You’ve had three dozen more matches since this morning. You’ll have plenty of other options if this one isn’t a love connection.”

He nods slowly. “Plus, you can prep me more at the party.”

I can’t help smiling. Does he really think he needs to prepare? “If you two click, then you click, Bentley. It should be easy.”

“Right.”

I’m about to close the door when I hear my name being called.

“Barbara?” It’s James.

I slam the door as quickly as I can and turn around, hoping Bentley didn’t hear.

“I’ll be ready with the numbers for the lunch meeting,” I say.

“You’re sure late coming in.” He’s craning his neck to look at the bright yellow Bugatti.

And the window rolls down. Bentley’s leaning toward it so he’s easy to see. “Hey, James.” His two hundred watt smile might be a bit much.

“Bentley?” James does not look pleased. He never said so, but maybe he never liked Bentley either.

“I’ve got to run,” Bentley says. “But I’ll see you tonight, sweetheart.” He kisses his fingers and throws his hand toward me.

I’m terrified that James will laugh, but he doesn’t. His eyes bug out and his mouth drops open, and he splutters as Bentley’s engine roars.

“You’re dating him?”

“Don’t want to be late for the meeting.” I rush away as fast as I can, and during the meeting, I refuse to meet James’ eye. Because this may be a lie that’s just too big to pull off.

No one on earth will believe that I could be dating Bentley Harrison.

Nobody.

7

Barbara

Normally, my makeup doesn’t take me very long to do, because I don’t wear very much. But when I’m going to a party for Clinique’s management team, one of our biggest clients, I make sure to use only their products, and I take great care in application.

Unfortunately, that means I’m running a little late for the party.

Apparently James is too, because he knocks on my office door. “Hey, can you bring the gift? Kristy’s meeting me there, and I’m not sure I can carry it by myself without damaging it.” He smiles a little too smugly, and I realize he’s fishing for information.

“I’m sorry,” I say. “But there’s no way that will fit in Bentley’s car—any of them.” I could shove the artisan holiday cake our firm sends every single year into the back of my LeSabre, but I don’t mention that.

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