Читать книгу Matched to Her Rival - Kat Cantrell - Страница 8
ОглавлениеIn the media business—and in life—presentation trumped everything else, and Dax Wakefield never underestimated the value of putting on a good show.
Careful attention to every detail was the reason his far-flung media empire had succeeded beyond his wildest dreams. So why was KDLS, the former jewel of his crown, turning in such dismal ratings?
Dax stopped at the receptionist’s desk in the lobby of the news station he’d come to fix. “Hey, Rebecca. How’s Brian’s math grade this semester?”
The receptionist’s smile widened as she fluffed her hair and threw her shoulders back to make sure he noticed her impressive figure.
He noticed. A man who enjoyed the female form as much as Dax always noticed.
“Good morning, Mr. Wakefield,” Rebecca chirped. “He made a C on his last report card. Such an improvement. It’s been like six months since I mentioned his grades. How on earth did you remember?”
Because Dax made it a point to keep at least one personal detail about all his employees front and center when speaking to them. The mark of success wasn’t simply who had the most money, but who had the best-run business, and no one could do it all by themselves. If people liked working for you, they stuck around, and turned themselves inside out to perform.
Usually. Dax had a few questions for Robert Smith, the station manager, about the latest ratings. Someone was tripping up somewhere.
Dax tapped his temple and grinned. “My mama encourages me to use this bad boy for good instead of evil. Is Robert around?”
The receptionist nodded and buzzed the lock on the security door. “They’re taping a segment. I’m sure he’s hovering near the set.”
“Say hi to Brian for me,” Dax called as he sailed through the frosted glass door and into the greatest show on earth—the morning news.
Cameramen and gaffers mixed it up, harried producers with electronic tablets stepped over thick cables on their way to the sound booth, and in the middle of it all sat KDLS’s star anchor, Monica McCreary. She was conversing on camera with a petite dark-haired woman who had great legs, despite being on the shorter side. She’d done a lot with what she had and he appreciated the effort.
Dax paused at the edge of the organized chaos and crossed his arms, locking gazes with the station manager. With a nod, Robert scurried across the ocean of people and equipment to join him.
“Saw the ratings, huh?” Robert murmured.
That was a quality Dax fully appreciated in his employees—the ability to read his mind.
Low ratings irritated him because there was no excuse. Sensationalism was key, and if nothing newsworthy happened, it was their job to create something worth watching, and ensure that something had Wakefield Media stamped on it.
“Yep.” Dax left it at that, for now. He had all day and the crew was in the middle of taping. “What’s this segment?”
“Dallas business owners. We feature one a week. Local interest stuff.”
Great Legs owned her own business? Interesting. Smart women equaled a huge turn-on.
“What’s she do? Cupcakes?”
Even from this distance, the woman exuded energy—a perky little cheerleader type who never met a curlicue or excess of decoration she didn’t like. He could see her dolloping frosting on a cupcake and charging an exorbitant price for it.
Dax could go for a cupcake. Literally and figuratively. Maybe even at the same time.
“Nah. She runs a dating service.” Robert nodded at the pair of women under the spotlight. “EA International. Caters to exclusive clients.”
The back of Dax’s neck heated instantly and all thoughts of cupcakes went out the window.
“I’m familiar with the company.”
Through narrowed eyes, Dax zeroed in on the Dallas business owner who had cost him his oldest friend. Someone who called herself a matchmaker should be withered and stooped, with gray hair. It was such an antiquated notion. And it should be against the law.
The anchor laughed at something the matchmaker said and leaned forward. “So you’re Dallas’s answer to a fairy godmother?”
“I like to think of myself as one. Who doesn’t need a bit of magic in their lives?” Her sleek dark hair swung freely as she talked with her hands, expression animated.
“You recently matched the Delamerian prince with his fiancée, right?” Monica winked. “Women everywhere are cursing that, I’m sure.”
“I can’t take credit.” The matchmaker smiled and it transformed her entire demeanor. “Prince Alain—Finn—and Juliet had a previous relationship. I just helped them realize it wasn’t over.”
Dax couldn’t stop watching her.
As much as he hated to admit it, the matchmaker lit up the set. KDLS’s star news anchor was more of a minor celestial body compared to the matchmaker’s sun.
And Dax was never one to underestimate star power.
Or the element of surprise.
He strode onto the set and dismissed the anchor with a jerk of his head. “I’ll take over from here, Monica. Thanks.”
Despite the unusual request, Monica smiled and vacated her chair without comment. No one else so much as blinked. No one who worked for him, anyway.
As he parked in Monica’s still-warm chair, the petite dynamo opposite him nearly bowled him over when she blurted out, “What’s going on? Who are you?”
A man who recognized a golden opportunity for improved ratings.
“Dax Wakefield. I own the station,” he said smoothly. “And this interview has officially started over. It’s Elise, right?”
Her confusion leveled out and she crossed her spectacular legs, easing back in the chair carefully. “Yes, but you can call me Ms. Arundel.”
Ah, so she recognized his name. Let the fun begin.
He chuckled darkly. “How about if I call you Ms. Hocus-Pocus instead? Isn’t that your gig, pulling fast ones on unsuspecting clients? You bibbidi-bobbidi-boo women into relationships with wealthy men.”
This interview had also officially become the best way to dish up a side of revenge—served cold. If this ratings gold mine led to discrediting EA International, so much the better. Someone had to save the world from this matchmaker’s mercenary female clients.
“That’s not what I do.” Elise’s gaze cut from his face to his torso and her expression did not melt into the typical sensuous smile that said she’d be happy to further discuss whatever he wanted to talk about over drinks. Unlike most women.
It whetted his appetite to get sparks on the screen another way.
“Enlighten us then,” he allowed magnanimously with a wave of his hand.
“I match soul mates.” Elise, pardon-me-Ms.-Arundel, cleared her throat and recrossed her legs as if she couldn’t find a comfortable pose. “Some people need more help than others. Successful men seldom have time or the patience to sort through potential love interests. I do it for them. At the same time, a man with means needs a certain kind of mate, one not easily found. I widen the potential pool by polishing a few of my female clients into diamonds worthy of the highest social circles.”
“Oh, come now. You’re training these women to be gold diggers.”
That was certainly what she’d done with Daniella White, whose last name was now Reynolds because she’d managed to snare Dax’s college friend Leo. Who then promptly screwed Dax over in favor of his wife. A fifteen-year friendship down the drain. Over a woman.
Elise’s smile hardened. “You’re suggesting women need a class on how to marry a man for his money? I doubt anyone with that goal needs help honing her strategy. I’m in the business of making women’s lives better by introducing them to their soul mates.”
“Why not pay for them to go to college and let them find their own dates?” Dax countered swiftly.
The onlookers shifted and murmured but neither Dax nor Elise so much as glanced away from their staring contest. An indefinable crackle sliced through the air between them. It was going to be beautiful on camera.
“There are scholarship opportunities out there already. I’m filling another niche, helping people connect. I’m good at what I do. You of all people should know that.”
Oh, she had not just gone there. Nearly nose to nose now, he smiled, the best method to keep ’em guessing. “Why would I know that? Because you single-handedly ruined both a business venture and a long-standing friendship when you introduced Leo to his gold digger?”
So, apparently that wound was still raw.
College roommates who’d seen the world through the same lens, he and Leo believed wholeheartedly in the power of success and brotherhood. Females were to be appreciated until they outlived their usefulness. Until Daniella, who somehow got Leo to fall in love with her and then she’d brainwashed his oldest friend into losing his ruthless business edge.
Not that he believed Daniella was 100 percent at fault. She’d been the instigator but Leo had pulled the plug on the deal with Dax. Both he and Leo had suffered a seven-figure loss. Then Leo ended their friendship for no reason.
The pain of his friend’s betrayal still had the power to punch quite a hole through his stomach. That was why it never paid to trust people. Anyone you let in eventually stomped all over you.
“No!” She huffed a sigh of frustration and shut her eyes for a beat, clearly trying to come up with a snappy response. Good luck with that. There wasn’t one.
But she tried anyway. “Because I single-handedly helped two people find each other and fall in love. Something real and lasting happened before your eyes and you had a front-row seat. Leo and Dannie are remarkably compatible and share values. That’s what my computer does. Matches people according to who they are.”
“The magic you alluded to earlier,” Dax commented with raised eyebrows. “Right? It’s all smoke and mirrors, though. You tell these people they’re compatible and they fall for it. The power of suggestion. Quite brilliant, actually.”
And he meant it. If anyone knew the benefit of smoke and mirrors, he did. It kept everyone distracted from what was really going on behind the curtain, where the mess was.
A red stain spilled across Elise’s cheeks, but she didn’t back down. “You’re a cynical man, Dax Wakefield. Just because you don’t believe in happily ever after doesn’t mean it can’t happen.”
“True.” He conceded the point with a nod. “And false. I readily admit to being cynical but happily ever after is a myth. Long-term relationships consist of two people who’ve agreed to put up with each other. No ridiculous lies about loving each other forever required.”
“That’s...” Apparently she couldn’t come up with a word to describe it. So he helped her out.
“Reality?”
His mother had proven it by walking out on his father when Dax was seven. His father had never recovered from the hope she’d eventually come back. Poor sap.
“Sad,” she corrected with a brittle smile. “You must be so lonely.”
He blinked. “That’s one I’ve never been called before. I could have five different dates lined up for tonight in about thirty seconds.”
“Oh, you’re in worse shape than I thought.” With another slide of her legs that Dax couldn’t quite ignore, she leaned toward him. “You need to meet the love of your life. Immediately. I can help you.”
His own bark of laughter startled him. Because it wasn’t funny. “Which part wasn’t clear? The part where I said you were a phony or the part where I don’t believe in love?”
“It was all very clear,” she said quietly. “You’re trying to prove my business, my life’s work, is a sham. You can’t, because I can find the darkest of hearts a match. Even yours. You want to prove something? Put your name in my computer.”
Double ouch. He’d been bamboozled. And he’d never seen it coming.
Against all odds, he dredged up a healthy amount of respect for Elise Arundel.
Hell. He actually kind of liked her style.
* * *
Elise wiped her clammy hands on her skirt and prayed the pompous Mr. Wakefield didn’t notice. This was not the scripted, safe interview she’d been promised or she never would have agreed to sit on this stage under all these burning hot lights, with what felt like a million pairs of eyes boring a hole through her.
Thinking on her feet was not her strong suit.
Neither was dealing with wealthy, spoiled, too-handsome, arrogant playboys who despised everything she believed in.
And she’d just invited him to test her skills. Had she accidentally inhaled paint thinner?
It hardly mattered. He’d never take her up on it. Guys like Dax didn’t darken the door of a matchmaker. Shallow, unemotional relationships were a snap to find, especially for someone who clearly had a lot of practice enticing women into bed. And was likely an ace at keeping them there.
Dax stroked his jaw absently and contemplated her. “Are you offering to find me a match?”
“Not just a match,” she corrected immediately and tore her gaze from the thumb running under his chiseled cheekbone. “True love. My gig is happily ever after.”
Yes. It was, and she hadn’t failed one single couple yet. She wasn’t about to start today.
Matching hearts fulfilled her in so many ways. It almost made up for not finding her own match. But hope sprang eternal. If her mother’s five marriages and dozens of affairs hadn’t squeezed optimism and a belief in the power of love out of her, Dax Wakefield couldn’t kill them either.
“So tell me about your own happily ever after. Is Mr. Arundel your one true love?”
“I’m single,” she admitted readily. It was a common question from clients who wanted her credentials and the standard answer came easily now. “But it’s not a commentary on my services. You don’t decide against using a travel agent just because she hasn’t been to the resort you’re booking, right?”
“Right. But I would wonder why she became a travel agent if she doesn’t ever get on a plane.”
The crowd snickered and the muscles in her legs tensed. Oh, spotlight how do I hate thee? Let me count the ways...
She’d be happy to get on a plane if the right man came along. But clients were always right for someone else, not her, and well...she wasn’t the best at walking up to interesting men in public and introducing herself. Friday nights with a chick flick always seemed safer than battling the doubts that she wasn’t quite good enough, successful enough, or thin enough for dating.
She’d only agreed to this interview to promote her business. It was a necessary evil, and nothing other than EA International’s success could entice her into making such a public spectacle.
“I always fly first class myself, Mr. Wakefield,” she responded and if only her voice hadn’t squeaked, the delivery would have been perfect. “As soon as you’re ready to board, see me and I’ll put you on the right plane in the right seat to the right destination.
“What do I have to do?” he asked. “Fill out a profile online?”
Was he actually considering it? She swallowed and the really bad feeling she’d tamped down earlier roared back into her chest.
Talk him out of it.
It was a stupid idea in the first place. But how else could she have responded? He was disparaging not only her profession but a company with her name on it.
“Online profiles don’t work,” she said. “In order to find your soul mate, I have to know you. Personally.”
Dax’s eyelids drifted lower and he flashed a slumberous smile that absolutely should not have sent a zing through her stomach. “That sounds intriguing. Just how personal does this get, Ms. Arundel?”
Was he flirting? Well, she wasn’t. This was cold, hard business. “Very. I ask a series of intensive questions. By the time I’m finished, I’ll know you better than your own mother.”
Something dark skittered through Dax’s eyes but he covered it swiftly. “Tall order. But I don’t kiss and tell, especially not to my mama. If I do this, what happens if I don’t find true love? You’ll be exposed as a fraud. Are you sure you’re up for that?”
“I’m not worried,” she lied. “The only thing I ask is that you take this seriously. No cheating. If you commit to the process and don’t find true love, do your best to spread word far and wide that I’m not as good as I say I am.”
But she was that good. She’d written the matching algorithm herself, pouring countless hours into the code until it was bulletproof. People often perplexed her, but a program either worked or it didn’t, and she never gave up until she fixed the bug. Numbers were her refuge, her place of peace.
A well-written line of code didn’t care how many chocolate bars she ate. Or how easily chocolate settled on her hips.
“That’s quite a deal.” His gaze narrowed. “But it’s too easy. There’s no way I can lose.”
Because he believed she was pulling a fast one on her clients and that he’d never fall for it. “You’re right. You don’t lose either way. If you don’t find love, you get to tear my business apart in whatever way makes sense to you. If you do find love, well...” She shrugged. “You’ll be happy. And you’ll owe me.”
One brow quirked up and she refused to find it charming.
“Love isn’t its own reward?”
He was toying with her. And he wasn’t going to get away with it. “I run a business, Mr. Wakefield. Surely you can appreciate that I have expenses. Smoke and mirrors aren’t free.”
His rich laugh hit her crossways. Yeah, he had a nice laugh. It was the only nice anything he had that she’d admit to noticing. Dannie had certainly hit the mark when she described Dax Wakefield to Elise as “yummy with an extra helping of cocky and a side of reptile.”
“Careful, Ms. Arundel. You don’t want to give away all your secrets on the morning news.”
He shook his head, and his carefully coiffed hair bounced back into place. A guy as well put-together as Dax Wakefield hadn’t even needed an hour with a makeup artist to be camera-ready. It was so unfair.
“I’m not giving anything away. Especially not my matchmaking abilities.” Elise sat back in her chair. The farther away she was from Pretty Boy, the better. “So if you find true love, you’ll agree to advertise my business. As a satisfied client.”
His eyebrows shot up and the evidence of surprise gave her a little thrill that she wasn’t at all ashamed to wallow in.
If this had been about anything other than EA International, the company she’d breathed life into for seven years, she’d have been at a loss for words, stumbling around looking for the exit.
But attacking her business made it personal. And for what? Because his friend had broken the guy code? Dax needed someone to blame for Leo’s falling in love with Dannie, obviously, not that he’d admit it. Elise made a convenient scapegoat.
“You want me to advertise your services?” Incredulity laced his deep voice.
“If you find love, sure. I should get something out of this experiment, too. A satisfied client is the best reference.” A satisfied client who’d previously denounced her skill set in public was worth more than a million dollars in advertising. “I’ll even waive my fee if you do.”
“Now you’ve got me curious. What’s the going rate for true love these days?”
“Five hundred thousand dollars,” she said flatly.
“That’s outrageous.” But he looked impressed nonetheless. About time she got his attention.
“I have dozens of clients who disagree. I guarantee my fees, too. If you don’t find your soul mate, I refund your money. Well, not yours,” she conceded with a nod. “You get to put me out of business.”
That’s when she realized her mistake. You could only find a soul mate for someone who had a soul. Dax Wakefield had obviously sold his a long time ago. This was never going to work. Her code would probably chew him up and spit him out.
She had to get off this stage before all these eyes and lights and camera lenses baked her like a pie.
Rubbing his hands together with something resembling glee, he winked. “A proposition I can’t lose. I’m so on board with that, I’ll even do you one better than a simple reference. Five hundred K buys a fifteen-second spot during the Super Bowl. If you pull a rabbit out of your hat and match me with my true love, I’ll sing your praises right before halftime in a commercial starring moi.”
“You will not.” She let her gaze travel over his smooth, too-handsome face, searching for a clue to his real intentions.
Nothing but sincerity radiated back. “I will. Except I won’t have to. You’ll need a lot more than smoke and mirrors to win.”
Win. As though this was a race.
“Why, because even if you fall in love, you’ll pretend you haven’t?”
A lethal edge sharpened his expression. “I gave you my word, Ms. Arundel. I might be a cynic, but I’m not a liar.”
She’d offended him. His edges smoothed out so quickly, she would have thought she’d imagined it. But she knew what she’d seen. Dax Wakefield would not allow himself to win any other way than fair and square. And that decided it.
This...contest between them was about her as much as it was about EA International. As much about Dax’s views on love and relationships versus hers. If she matched him with his soul mate—not if, when—she’d prove once and for all that it didn’t matter what she looked like on the outside. Matching people who wanted to fall in love was easy. Finding a match for a self-professed cynic would be a stellar achievement worthy of everyone’s praise.
Her brain was her best asset and she’d demonstrate it publicly. The short fat girl inside who wanted her mother to love her regardless of Elise’s weight and height would finally be vanquished.
“Then it’s a deal.” Without hesitation, she slid her hand into his and shook on it.
Something bold and electric passed between them, but she refused to even glance at their joined fingers. Unfortunately, whatever it was that felt dangerous and the slightest bit thrilling came from deep inside her and needed only Dax’s dark gaze to intensify it.
Oh, goodness. What had she just agreed to?
