So, I need more than a date. I need someone who’s prepared to give up not just one, but several days of their life at one of the busiest times of the year. The wedding is set to be a lavish four-day celebration complete with before parties, after parties, and all-day parties.
‘Of course I have.’ My teeth nip the inside of my cheeks like they’re punishing me for lying.
I haven't, but I’ll find one if it kills me.
My taste in the opposite sex has always been questionable. Given my disastrous dating history, my brother and my four sisters consider my career choice hilarious. But my endless string of dreadful dates is the precise reason Iamqualified to run a dating agency. I have experience. Mountains of it. If I don’t use it for the greater good, all those dating disasters will have been for nothing.
I was so engrossed drowning in the dreamy eyes of my last boyfriend, Josh, I failed to spot the prison tag on his right ankle. Or the faint tell-tale pale band around the fourth finger on his left hand. It’s hard to pinpoint exactly which of these omissions were worse, but ultimately the outcome was the same – I haven't dated since.
Instead, I’ve ploughed my time, energy, and every cent I possess into matchmaking others.
I’m a firm believer in true love. Hearts and flowers. Soulmates. Endless romance. Long, fulfilling, happy marriages. I might be a sucker for romance novels, but I’ve seen it in real life too in my parents, Penny and Frank ‘zero-boundaries-let’s-talk-about-our-sex-life-over-the-dinner-table’ Jackson.
I just haven't experienced it myself yet.
And after Josh, the thought of putting myself out there again is one I’ve shied away from. Nate and my sisters might tease me for running a dating agency when I apparently can’t get a date myself, but it’s safer to focus on my business.
It’s no secret that I’m looking for financial investors.
Set up was expensive.
The fancy website.
This slick city centre office.
The three wonderful women I employ.
The advertising.
I founded HeartSync knowing it would take a while to turn a profit, but I didn't factor in exactly how long. Though the secret appeal of having an investor is not just the financial security, it’s having another grown adult to bounce ideas off. Someone to share the sometimes-terrifying responsibility of running a business with.
My hotshot brother agreed to invest, but with two staunch stipulations:
The business had to be up and running for a year before he would consider it. (I have a reputation for being impulsive when it comes to my career choices. I’m not flighty, just fussy. Life’s too short to be anything but happy in a job that consumes more time than a husband, so I imagine).
I have to take a date to his wedding.
Not just any date either. One that looks promising for the future. Nate insists if my business is truly viable, finding a date for myself should be a walk in the park.
Luckily, next week marks HeartSync’s one year anniversary. We’re hosting an extravagant party in The Shelbourne hotel to celebrate and to generate a fresh wave of publicity. So that’s one box ticked.
Unluckily, I don’t have a date for my brother’s wedding.
I sweep my wavy hair out of my eyes with the back of my hand. If I have to hire a goddamn male escort to attend my brother’s wedding and fake it, then I’ll do it. And if I’m ticking that box, I might get him to tick my own box too. Heaven knows, it’s been a while.
Though hiring an escort won’t do a lot to quash the niggling feeling in my stomach. The one that wonders if my siblings might be right. If I really am capable of running a successful dating agency, when I truly do have the worst taste in men. I’m a poor advertisement for my company’s services. If I went to the dentist and his teeth were black and decaying in his head, I’d run out the door faster than a coyote on cocaine.
‘So, who’s the lucky man?’ Nate pries, dragging my thoughts back to the conversation.
‘You’ll meet him soon enough.’ I readjust my mobile to rest between my ear and my shoulder.
Thankfully, I still have five weeks until the wedding. I’m going to have to get over my apprehension and get back on the horse. Personally scour every single sign-up form ever submitted to HeartSync’s database. There must be someone suitable in there.
‘I’ll meet him sooner than you think …’ Nate’s deep voice penetrates my silent plotting.
‘What?’ My head snaps round, and I glance suspiciously round my open plan office like my famous movie-star brother might have snuck in, sending my employees’ knees weak with desire.
The coast is clear for now. Cleo and Violet, my two loyal but lively admin assistants huddle together in front of Cleo’s Mac, pouring over a sign-up form. The similar look of horror stretched across their faces piques my curiosity.
