Mister Match (The Match Series Book 1) Read Free

rearview mirror.
    “Downtown, please. The Keiko Hotel.” Another hotel, another Dream Date weekend, and then on to the next city on the tour.
    As the cab sped down the highway toward town, Adam stared out the window, pondering the state of his life. Five years ago, he never would have guessed it was possible to be hailed as a success, with money, fame, and a full and busy schedule, and yet feel so damned empty and lonely all the time.
     

 
     
    Chapter 2
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    A t Indulgence Spa inside the Keiko, Lisa was distracted during her first massage of the day. She couldn’t get into the zone, and that annoyed her.
    She blamed Clare and Willow. Here it was, almost Friday, and she was still trying to forget about Monday night and their online-dating torture.
    Worst of all, their little intervention had somehow wormed its way into her head. Clare hadn’t yet mentioned any men Lisa was supposed to meet up with, and if and when she did, Lisa was going to refuse. And yet, she couldn’t deny that in the back of her mind, a very small part of her was actually feeling hopeful that this ridiculous scheme might actually work. That Clare might actually find someone for her, someone worth meeting. Someone worth falling for.
    She hated that—the hope. Feeling hopeful meant she was just setting herself up for more disappointment.
    She tried not to grimace as she ran her fingers up her client’s wide, overstuffed cushion of a back. It was just fitting, she thought, not for the first time, that his first name was Harry. The massage lotion she was using on him was something new, thicker than she was used to. If she wasn’t careful, she’d have to give his back a comb-out at the end of the session.
    “Oh, Lisa,” he moaned, and she bit back a sigh. She would prefer that he keep it more professional by calling her Ms. DeLuca—she called him Mr. Richmond, pointedly, every chance she got—but she’d given up that crusade months ago. Harry Richmond seemed to believe the world was his personal wait staff. Of course, Lisa figured, a yearly income in the high seven-digits must give a person a pretty skewed view of life.
    She gave him one last rub, pressing her thumbs into the ample flesh at his shoulders and then swooping her palms down the length of his back, before pulling his sheet up and stepping back from the table.
    “All right, Mr. Richmond, you’re done.” Like a big ol’ turkey, she added in her head. She grabbed a hand towel and began working the excess lotion from her fingers, trying to ignore the fact that dark, wiry back hairs were probably clinging to her palms, creeping between her fingers like miniature leeches. “Clare will check you out at the front desk whenever you’re ready, like always. And of course, please feel free to relax here for a few minutes, if you like.”
    He answered with a deep, wet moan that ended in a satisfied sigh.
    Lisa shuddered inwardly. She had to stop thinking such uncharitable thoughts about the poor man. Harry Richmond wasn’t a bad person—he was actually kind of nice—but she dreaded his appointments the same way she dreaded visits to the dentist. Like Mr. Richmond, the dentist was also probably a perfectly nice human being. Just not someone she wanted to get up-close-and-personal with very often.
    But Harry visited her for weekly massages, like clockwork. And in Lisa’s current state of financial near-death-by-drowning, regular clients were like a life jacket—about the only thing keeping her afloat.
    Harry shifted his bulk to look up at her with a sweet, bleary smile, and suddenly she felt bad for having such mean thoughts about him. He really was a nice person, after all, and he was a loyal client, even if he never tipped—
    And then he said, “So, Lisa,” and she cringed, because she knew what was coming.
    “You find a boyfriend yet?”
    There it was. She forced a smile, though she felt like baring her teeth. Couldn’t there be one