Unmatchable (4 page)

I open the folder with my photos in it. With my actual photos. I modify a few of my shirtless ones to crop out my head and upload half a dozen of those to my profile. Then I shut down my laptop and go to bed, wondering what I'll manage to reel in tomorrow.

***

I always get a rush when I sign the paperwork to take over a company. Even though every company I buy is thoroughly researched before I make the purchase, there's still the tiniest hint of the unknown. With this company, more than a lot of others. I'm still confident that I can make it work, though. That I can take what Freddie Montanez started and turn it into the most successful personal matchmaking service in all of Houston. Once I get the profits to where I need them to be, it will be time to expand—to branch out to other cities. Replicating successful businesses is another one of my specialties.

Making money has always come easy to me. I wish I could say it was an innate gift, but I spent a lot of time in college learning the ins and outs of acquiring and managing various businesses. Wealth has always been my biggest aspiration. I've put accumulating it before everything else: my friends, my family, my social life. Some people—well, a lot of people, actually—would call me a workaholic. I'm fine with it. That's why I'm able to buy whatever I want. Go wherever I want. Do whatever I want. That's why I'm one of the richest guys in the city.

After signing and finalizing all of the documents with Freddie Montanez and our lawyers, I head back to my office to put together my business plan for the new management team. Implementation will be a slow process at first. I've had a small glimpse of how the business runs on a day to day basis, but I want to take a month to observe it before making any drastic changes. See what works. See what's not working. Poll the current client base for feedback on the types of services they'd like to see provided. Sometimes, the greatest gems don't come from within the company. They come from the customers themselves. A smart business owner never overlooks customer feedback.

That doesn't mean that I'm going to leave things completely unchanged, though. On Monday morning, Freddie will be stepping out, and my management team will be coming in to take his place. As of now, Freddie handles everything himself, which is probably why he's had such a hard time keeping his profits consistent. It's likely also the reason why he hasn't bothered firing some of the undesirables. Between managing HR, PR, sales, and his matchmaking team, the guy has to be overwhelmed. And when people are overwhelmed, they tend to make mistakes.

I flip through the pile of paperwork on my desk, jotting down notes that I want to bring up at the meeting that I'll have with the new management team later. Then I fire up Full Heart Matchmaking Service's HR software and start looking at the details of the employees I want to get rid of. The two sales associates have worked there for less than six months, so that shouldn't be much of an issue. To my surprise, when I bring up Ember Washington's file, it says she's been with the company for three years. Full Hearts Matchmaking Service has only been around for five years. Interestingly enough, the stagnation of the business started only six months after she began working there. I can't help but wonder if there's a direct correlation.

I read through her file. What in the bloody hell?

Before I even know what I'm doing, I'm picking up my cell phone to call Freddie Montanez. He answers on the second ring sounding oddly nervous.

“
Mister Larsen, is something wrong?”

“
No. I just have a question about one of your employees.”

“
Which one?”

“
A Miss Ember Washington.”

“
Ember. What about her?”

“
What's the deal with all of the promotions?”

“
Promotions?”

“
Yeah. She started as a sales associate. Then six months later you promoted her to a matchmaker. Then two months after that you created a new position for her. Client retainment associate.”

“
Is there something wrong with that? It's normal to promote good employees.”

“
Except for that she's doing the exact opposite of what her position should entail. She's not retaining clients. She's scaring them away. Purposely, from the looks of it.”

He sighs. “I know that Ember is rough around the edges, but she's really a good girl.”

The realization hits me that something else was probably going on between them. “You knew she was hurting your company, but you didn't fire her. Why?”

“
It's not what you think.”

“
Then what is it. If you were fucking her, I get it to a certain degree.”

“
I never laid a finger on her.” He suddenly gets defensive.

“
Then explain. Why keep someone like this on your team?”

“
She started as a sales associate, and she was doing fine. Since the company was still new and it had a high employee turnover due to the nature of the job, I promoted employees quickly into positions where I needed them. I was in desperate need of another matchmaker, so I promoted Ember since she was next in line for a promotion.

“
The problem was that she was a horrible matchmaker. I won't go into specifics, but clients complained about her. Some of them even canceled their memberships after an appointment with her. I knew I couldn't keep her in that position, but I didn't want to fire her because she's been through a lot.

“
I know you might not understand, but we're like a family at Full Hearts. All of my top sales associates and matchmakers have been with me since nearly the beginning. When you grow a business with people, you start to care about them. On a
platoni
c
level.

“
I decided to create the client retainment position for her. Up until that point, I had the matchmakers deal with their own clients if they became delinquent. Most of them, we could find an amicable solution for, but some clients were just impossible to work with. Clients who missed dates, violated our terms of service, or were unmatchable. Those clients get filtered to Ember.”

“
I take it you don't understand the definition of the word retainment.” I cock an eyebrow.

“
I'm well aware of the definition of the word, Mister Larsen. The position may not be named accurately, but it is a necessary position within the company. I assure you. No one wants to deal with delinquent clients, especially the ones who are unsalvageable. Ember doesn't mind doing the dirty work. Not many people could handle the level of stress that she experiences on a day to day basis.”

“
I'm eliminating her position,” my tone is deadpan.

“
Oh?”

The line goes silent for a minute.

“
She's not my family, Mister Montanez, and she's probably one of the biggest reasons why your business has been suffering these past few years. You can't treat clients like trash and expect them to give you their hard-earned money. I realize that some clients have to go, but when I went through the files of clients who have passed through Miss Washington's office, I've seen opportunity in a lot of them.”

“
Sometimes, throwing out some low-quality grain with the chaff isn't that big of a deal.”

“
We can agree to disagree on that. Thank you for your time. I'll call again if I have more questions.”

“
So you're going to fire her?”

“
That's no longer any of your business.”

He huffs. “I suppose it's not.”

“
Good day to you, Mister Montanez.”

“
Likewise.”

I hang up the phone and lean back in my chair, staring at Ember's name. Freddie made it sound like they were awfully close. If they weren't, he probably just wanted to keep her around for eye candy. I've seen guys do it before. Men who care more about getting their rocks off to an unobtainable fantasy than the reality of what keeping that employee is doing to the business. It's easy to be blinded by a pretty face sometimes. I suppose I can't blame Freddie for wanting to keep Ember. He's not going to be in the office anymore, though, and neither am I. It's time for the company to start making money again, and for that to happen, I need to eliminate the bad seeds. Ember is definitely a bad seed.

It's not until my last break of the day that I remember my online dating profile. While I know I should wait until I get home to check and see if I got any new messages, I can't fight the urge to log on.

Not surprisingly, there are nearly a dozen new emails. Most of them are from random girls, but a few are responses from girls I emailed yesterday who wouldn't give me the time of day with the puppy pic. The one that stirs my curiosity the most though is a reply from Ember. I click on it to read what she sent me.

BlazeGenie: When you said that the only reason he didn't push you back in was because you were blessed in other areas, I thought you meant something inappropriate.

I smirk as I look at the green button next to her screen name that indicates she's online. Quickly, I check the HR software to see when her hours are. The little minx is at work, probably logged onto the app. Shame on her. Wracking up more bad employee points.

BoxPup: Pervert! What's wrong with you, woman?

BlazeGenie: Pervert? Me? Says the guy who is posting pictures of his chesticles everywhere. What happened to the dog? Did your remorse run dry, or was that story bullshit, because I'm starting to get the feeling that it was?

Chesticles? I snort. This woman is hilarious.

BoxPup: Admit it, you like my chesticles just as much as I like your chesticles. Don't think those pictures of your cleavage went unnoticed.

BlazeGenie: ~eyeroll~ So you are a pervert. Congratulations, you had me fooled into thinking you were a nice guy. I guess that explains why none of your pictures show your face. You don't want anyone matching your ugly face to your ugly personality.

BoxPup: In my defense, I told you I was a bridge troll. ;-)

I glance down at the time. My break is up. I sign out of the dating website, wondering what amusingly harsh words Ember Washington might grace me with when I get home tonight.

CHAPTER THREE

EMBER

Men are pigs. This asshat is definite proof.

Why on God's green earth did I allow myself to be fooled into thinking that he might actually be a decent guy? The fact that he didn't show a picture of his face should have been the first clue that he was just out to fuck with people.

I may have acted naive, but if he thinks I'm going to simply disappear without a fight, he's got another thing coming. My only weapons are my words, and I doubt they'll sting this guy at all. Trolls get off to riling up people. If I weren't so heated, I wouldn't bother responding at all. Even though I know this means he'll win, I just can't stand the idea of rolling over and submitting to a jerkface.

Just as I'm about to type a seething response, he goes offline.
How convenient.
Running away, probably. I lie to myself and say that's why he logged off. Most likely, he's bored or at work.

I irritably tap my desk, staring at the muscular naked torso of Mister BoxTroll. These probably aren't even his real pictures. If they aren't, that will give me something else to bitch at him about.

I go through his pictures one at a time and save them to my desktop. Then I open up Google image search and drag the first one into it. Immediately, I get a hit. My mouth falls agape and a cold shiver of disgust rolls down my spine. There's a head attached to these pictures, and it belongs to none other than the stuck-up client from yesterday, Alfred Barnes.

To make sure I'm not imagining things, I check the next picture. Same guy. Next picture. Same guy.

Is this motherfucker stalking me?

While he's sexy as hell, the fact that he tracked me down online is creepy. This guy is a restraining order waiting to happen. And it will happen if he doesn't leave me alone. He would not be the first disgruntled client that I've had to call the cops on.

I click on one of the pictures and am taken to a Facebook page. The name on the page doesn't match the man I'm looking at. Colton Larsen. It's probably a fake account.

I go back through and click on the other pictures, but they all point to the same Facebook page.

Confused and curious, I scroll through the information. Thankfully, the profile is public, so I can see a lot of the details. It says this guy is the CEO of The Larsen Corporation. He's twenty-nine years old and single. With over one thousand friends, I doubt the profile is fake. What in the hell is going on?

Freddie pokes his head into my office and knocks on the door. Instantly, I lower my phone, hoping that he didn't catch me. Not like it matters. He doesn't care much what we do between clients, and I don't have one scheduled to come in for another hour.

“
Ember.” His expression is stoic, and I instantly get a sinking feeling in the pit of my stomach.

“
Yes, sir?”

“
Office meeting in the break room.” He gestures over his shoulder and then disappears.

I deflate, glancing at the clock on my computer. It's rare that Freddie schedules meetings in the middle of the week. This must mean someone fucked up badly. He's probably going to address the issue with Mister Luis' botched background check. Freddie is good about calling everyone into a meeting to discuss one person's screw up. I suppose he sees it as a way not to single someone out. I think it's a bit pointless, though, when the issue doesn't relate to all of the departments.

Oh well, at least it will help to kill time before my next appointment.

I stand and flatten the wrinkles out of the front of my blouse and pencil skirt before heading to the break room. There are plenty of empty seats, so I take one toward the back and wait for the meeting to begin. Freddie stands at the front of the room looking nervous. One of the corners of his shirt is untucked from his pants, and his dark hair is disheveled, a sign that he's been running his hands through it. His eyes dart around, but they don't linger on any one person for too long.

Once everyone is seated, he takes a deep breath. “I'm sorry to call all of you in here on such short notice, but I have an announcement to make. This morning, I sold Full Hearts Matchmaking Service to another company.”

Gasps erupt from the room. My mouth falls open as I'm blindsided with the rest of my co-workers.

Freddie holds his hands up. “Now I know what you're all thinking. There are going to likely be a lot of changes in the coming weeks. Some of you may be promoted. Some of your positions may be phased out.

"Friday will be my last day with the company. On Monday, a new management team will be coming in to take over. I want you to treat them with the utmost respect.

“
I want to let all of you know that I've greatly enjoyed my last five years working with you guys. It has been an adventure building this company from the ground up, and I have every confidence that Full Hearts Matchmaking Service will continue to be successful under The Larsen Corporation.”

The Larsen Corporation.

My brain instantly shifts back to Alfred Barnes' Facebook page. It said that he was the CEO of the Larsen Corporation. That's probably not a coincidence. The pit in my stomach deepens.

“
Now if anyone has questions, I will answer them to the best of my ability.” Freddie takes a more casual stance as if getting off his chest that he sold the company has made him thirty pounds lighter.

I raise my hand, but one of my co-workers speaks out of turn. “Why didn't you tell us about this sooner?”

“
Because I wasn't sure it was going to happen. The transaction took place this morning. I figured it was better to wait until I knew for sure rather than to create a panic by feeding you guys false information.”

“
But you knew you were going to sell. You just didn't know when.”

“
That's true.” He nods. “I had wanted to sell for a while. I just hadn't received an acceptable offer until now.”

“
What about our salaries? Will they remain the same?” another of my co-workers asks.

“
I have been informed that your salaries will be locked for the next month, which means they won't change until that period if over. After that, it's out of my hands. The new management team will look over employee data and decide whether they need to make changes or keep things the same.

“
I apologize, but that's all I'll be able to answer for now. On Friday, we'll have another meeting in the afternoon, so save all of your questions until then.” Freddie bows out of the room as if it's on fire, leaving everyone dumbstruck.

I simply sit there, trying to put the pieces together. My mind is reeling with what ifs. In the span of just a few minutes, my entire world has been turned upside down, and I'm not entirely sure what to do about it.

Knowing that I won't find answers sitting in a room full of people who are also trying to figure things out, I return to my office. Instead of messing with the slow internet on my phone, I use my desktop to do a Google search on The Larsen Corporation. The website looks professional enough. There's a gray banner with the company's logo. Beneath that are some article excerpts about recent acquisitions and other news. I see nothing about Full Hearts Matchmaking Service on there, though.

I click through to the page with businesses that the corporation currently owns. It has an impressive list. Several salons, massage parlors, restaurants, storage centers, a jewelry store, and even a movie theater. It's a curious mix. No Full Hearts Matchmaking Service though. It looks like they haven't had time to update their website yet.

Next, I click to the page with the leadership team. Front and center is an image of Alfred Barnes. Except the name Alfred Barnes isn't under the picture. The name under the picture is Colton Larsen.

There are fourteen people on his management team and eleven people on his board of directors. It's a damn big corporation.

I now know that Alfred Barnes' real name is Colton Larsen. That the man who was sitting across from me days ago wasn't a client at all. The question is, is that really who I've been talking to on the dating site, or did BoxPup just steal Colton's pictures from the internet.

I'm forced to put my research aside when my last client of the day walks in.

The woman who plants her pudgy ass in front of me is another unmatchable. Most of her dates have described her as a gold digger and freebie seeker. The honest ones, at least. There are a lot of people who choose not to delve into specifics about why their date went badly. The few transparent members start to lay out a pattern of the unmatchable's unsavory behavior, though. Enough of which I can use to make the determination that our services are no longer beneficial for them.

The appointment takes much longer than I would have liked. The woman makes excuses, blames the bad dates on her matches, says that it's their responsibility to pay for everything. She calls one guy rude and inconsiderate for not wanting to wait for her to get a refill on popcorn on their way out of the theater. The man noted that the refill wasn't free and that the woman argued with the concession attendant for a good fifteen minutes over it, causing a scene until a manager was finally called over and they gave her the refill just to get rid of her. He said he'd never been so embarrassed on a date in all of his life, and I honestly can't blame him.

Then the woman goes on to say that we should give her several free months of service for not being able to match her with someone compatible. When she demands to speak to my manager, I gladly hand her over to Freddie, who shoots her back to me like a boomerang. Things should have ended then, but she continued to argue with me for another thirty minutes. Unfortunately, I can't call security on her unless I feel threatened or she makes a sexual advance on me, neither of which happened. So I'm stuck listening to her whiny demands until she finally runs out of steam and decides to leave on her own...nearly half an hour after my shift ends.

I'm never happier than when I can stamp banned on her file and toss it into my basket to be placed in the Inactive Clients/Restricted cabinet. No one should have to deal with someone like that.

I groan as I look at the clock, realizing that I have just enough time to go home and get ready for my date for the night before I have to head back out. I had really hoped I could delve into the mystery of BoxPup and Colton Larsen some more, but it will have to wait.

I speed home and make an attempt to look decent. Since this is another guy from the internet and I no longer trust guys from the internet, I'm damn sure not going to overdress this time. I throw on a pair of black skinny jeans and a dark green tank top, pairing the outfit with black strappy sandals. Then I pull my hair into a high ponytail and paint on a light layer of nude makeup.

Richard, the guy I'm meeting, is fifteen years my senior and the vice principal of a high school. He's not really my type, but at least he has a stable career and seems to have a good head on his shoulders.

He picks me up at six o'clock, and it feels like the opposite of my date with Stephen. This time, I'm the one who is underdressed, but it's too late to think about that now. His dark hair is slicked to the side. He's wearing a pink pinstripe shirt tucked into a pair of gray slacks. There's a matching gray tie with a pink diamond pattern around his neck. His cologne hits me like a slap as soon as I open the door to him. It's not a repulsive scent, but I'm definitely not fond of it. It makes him smell old, for lack of a better description. A mixture of aftershave and something I'm pretty sure my grandfather used to wear. His smile is charming and brilliant though.

“
Well, don't you look gorgeous.” He takes me all in.

“
Thank you.”

“
I was going to pick a restaurant for us tonight, but I figured that I'd let you decide for our first date. I'm interested to see what you'd pick.”

For our first date, huh? Cocky much? He's already thinking about a second date. I'm not even sure I like him enough for a second date yet.

I grumble inwardly, not liking being put on the spot. He could have told me earlier that he wanted me to pick something.

I shift my weight, trying to figure out what I'm in the mood for. To be honest, ever since I found out my job might be in danger, my appetite has been nonexistent. The only reason I didn't cancel the date was because my therapist would gritch at me for it. I'm supposed to be going out on dates with anyone I feel I might be somewhat compatible with.

Frustrated and not in the mood to put any more thought into it, I blurt out the first thing that comes to mind. “Let's go to Olive Garden.”

***

At the restaurant, Richard is pleasant enough, but I can't help being bored as he tells me stories of his world travels. He talks about these places like he expects me to be well versed in geography and different cultures. I'm not. In fact, I've never even been outside of the United States.

About halfway through the meal, I take a bathroom break. I pull my phone from my purse as I sit on the toilet and bring up the dating app, surprised to find a message from Colton. Even more surprised that it's not something perverted or snarky.