Page 51 of The Sheikh's Purchased Bride

The words flowed from her mouth like water, as they did every day, but not a single one of them was true. The only algorithm that existed at Melinda Forde was Zoey making a best-guess selection. She asked Stelios her standard questions, noting down his responses, but the more he talked, the guiltier she felt.

He’s in the wrong place, she tried to tell herself. A grown man—a billionaire—should know better than to trust a dating service to help him find love. It’s like getting financial advice from psychic friends: if you’re dumb enough to fall for it, you can’t blame people for taking advantage of you.

No matter what she told herself, however, she couldn’t help feeling horrible about what she was about to do. A sudden thought filled her with disgust: a year ago, she wouldn’t even have considered causing someone misery for the money. Now here she was, trying to justify it.

“I can’t do it,” she mumbled bitterly. “Not this time.”

“Did you say something, Ms. Forde?” Stelios inquired gently.

“Yes, I did, Mr. Zakiridis. I need to be completely honest with you, even if it really isn’t good for business. I truly hate to disappoint you, but all of the women we currently have registered are more interested in wealth than anything else, and it’s my professional opinion that dating them for any length of time would make you perfectly miserable.”

“You’re kidding, right?” Stelios replied, unable to quite believe his ears.

“I’m afraid not,” Zoey replied sullenly.

“Well, I appreciate you being honest with me,” he said, getting to his feet with a somewhat bemused expression on his face.

Zoey let him out of her office, and in a moment or two, he had left the building altogether.

Triumph blared through her heart for a few seconds; for the first time in more than a year, she had gone against her mother, and spared someone weeks—months, even—of bitterness and disappointment. But it all came crashing down the moment her mother opened her office door.

“Zoey, what in God’s name have you done?” Melinda asked, struggling to keep her voice under control. “You simply needed to match him with any one of the women on our rolls. That’s literally all you had to do, Zoey. It isn’t complicated, which is why I want to know why the receptionist saw him leaving here so quickly.”

“Well, Mother,” returned Zoey, “there was no one on those rolls he could have had any sort of relationship with. Those women would only use him for his money. They wouldn’t care about anything else.”

“I’m using him for his damn money!” Melinda returned hotly. “We aren’t running a charity here. When someone comes through those doors, they need to leave with a date. That’s your job, Zoey!”

“I thought my job was ‘Relationship Services Expert’,” she said sarcastically, “helping people to find actual love. And yet so far, no one I’ve matched has lasted longer than a year!”

“Darling, actual love is for fairy tales, songs on the radio, and nitwits with small brains and huge bank accounts. You’re not nine years old anymore, so don’t give me that talk about true love. You’ve just let millions of dollars’ worth of business, advertising and influence walk right out of my door! Why did you do that? Because of some stupid fantasy?”

“Because I didn’t want to be as cynical as you!”

Zoey didn’t know where the words had come from, or why she had shouted them with such ferocity, but Melinda moved toward her so quickly, the woman might as well have been gliding. She lowered her voice and glared at her daughter with cold anger in her eyes.

“Let me tell you something. This ‘cynical’ woman is the only reason you have anything right now. Every scrap of food that passes down that disrespectful little throat of yours is there because I allow it to be, and unless you want me to throw your lazy ass out on the street, you’re going to wrap up this sentimental nonsense and do your job!”

Zoey thought she could hear people gathering outside the door, but her mother didn’t seem the least bit worried about who could hear what she was saying.

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