Rafael had been of those young up-and-comings. He’d waltzed into my office as if he owned it, and from the moment he dropped himself into the chair in front of my desk, the sexy rising actor owned me. Everything about him was magnetic. Smooth olive skin, thick, wavy black hair, and that accent of his was a source of instant arousal. Initially, I didn’t want take him on, because he was starting to gain popularity, and I didn’t want celebrity clients. They were notoriously hard to please, but he was so damned charming I couldn’t say no. I developed a little crush on him, and it killed me to send him on dates with any of the women in my database of singles, but I was being paid to do a job, and silly crush aside, I intended to do it well.
Rafael filled out a digital questionnaire I would use to assist in matching him. It asked questions some would find odd, given the context, such as how well they responded to sleep deprivation, if they liked pizza, even down to how often they thought was an appropriate number of times per week to vacuum the carpets. Those little nuances, however random, told much bigger stories about the compatibility between two people than they got credit for. The proprietary system I used, based on software algorithms I created myself, would take his results, and search the Matched database for suitable matches, then send those results straight to me. I would then use my own instincts to choose appropriate singles from the list of compatible potentials.
But, I made the stupid, stupid, stupid mistake of opening Rafael’s matches in front of him.
With my tablet in my lap, screen in full view, seeing my own smiling face tagged to the profile that was 94.28% compatible with Rafael shocked me into silence. When I dared to look at Rafael, seated right beside me, he was already staring at me with the sexy, superstar grin of his. He whispered something seductive to me in his native Portuguese tongue, and to this day, I think I must have blacked out, because the next thing I knew, I was pinned against the wall with my legs wrapped willingly around his waist, and he was inside of me. It was reckless, and stupid, and pretty far outside of character for me, but at that time in my life, I was ‘doing’ more than I was thinking.
That one mistake— matching myself with a client— led to a secret six month long relationship, followed by a secret month long engagement, followed by a secret year long marriage, concluding in a secret divorce that took three months to finalize. When I was in the midst of it, I thought it made perfect sense to keep my relationship with the Rafael under wraps. He was a rising celebrity, and that brought media scrutiny that neither my business nor I needed. How was I supposed to know Rafael would continue sleeping his way around the world, using his ‘need’ to appear single as an excuse for his behavior?
But that part of my life was over. Rafael had just been the final disaster in a lifelong pattern of ridiculously bad luck in love, and a lesson learned the hard way. I would not be making that same mistake again. However, that didn’t mean I couldn’t enjoy the gentle pressure of Avery’s hand against my back while it lasted.
He spoke, breaking me out of my thoughts of regret. “So… you aren’t wearing a ring…”
For a moment, I panicked, thinking he was asking me about Rafael, but the playful grin on his face told me he was flirting. My lack of a ring announced that I was possibly single, something he could use as an entry point. I pushed out a deep breath, relieved that both of my little secrets were still safe. I’d never worn a ring, due to the clandestine nature of the relationship, but there were a few people — my immediate family and two good friends, one of those being Des— who knew about my marriage. Des was the only one who didn’t know about the divorce.
“Very observant of you,” I replied, tucking away my moment of panic. “But…. what does my lack of a ring have to do with you?”
We came to a stop just outside the door to Desiree’s dressing room, where I could hear her fussing loudly at someone, presumably her cousin Deidra, who was her only bridesmaid. Avery brought his hand around to rest on my waist as he faced me. “It could have a lot to do with me, Tori. I could see us being really good … friends.”