The unibrow lifted again. “If you think you’re being clever, I’ll have you know that even the junior high jocks figured that out pretty quickly. You’ll have to work much harder to impress me.”
Kennedy fought a smile. Good. He had a sense of humor buried under all that intelligence. You couldn’t teach a person that part, you either owned the trait or not. Definitely raw material to extricate and polish. “Touché. And what do you do?”
“I’m an aerospace engineer.”
She pressed her finger against her lips and pondered the amazing scene unfolding before her. Did this get any better? “You’re a rocket scientist.”
Impatience simmered from his frame, though he remained still. “Yes, that’s what an aerospace engineer is. But we don’t call ourselves rocket scientists any longer. It’s outdated.”
Her gaze fell to the pocket protector and his outfit. “I apologize.”
His demeanor shifted, and he gazed at her with sudden suspicion. “What is it you really want? I apologized for how I came across to Bernadette. You don’t want to date me. Why am I still here?”
Kennedy tried very hard not to lick her lips and ask for a cup of cream. A nerdy, rich rocket scientist who wanted to get married and meet his match. This was her swan song—her Eliza Doolittle—her crowning achievement and challenge of a lifetime.
“I have a deal to offer.”
“What type of deal?”
She smiled. “The deal of a lifetime. I’m going to get you everything you’ve ever wanted. I’m going to find you the woman of your dreams. All you need to do is listen.”
He blinked. Pondered. And leaned forward.
Gotcha.
He stopped picking his nails and studied her with a razor-sharp gaze. “How? Who are you?”
“Kennedy Ashe. I run the Kinnections matchmaking agency with two of my partners. We structured the speed-dating event for our clients tonight, but we’re also looking to expand. Our focus is to match couples for long-term relationships. Our statistics are quite impressive, and I can give you plenty of information to sort through. You strike me as a numbers person. Results. Correct?”
The big picture seemed to click into place. He pushed his glasses back up his nose. “You ran the event? You’re a saleswoman.”
“Recruiter. I have a proposition for you, Ned. I’d like to help find your wife.”
Disappointment flickered over his features. She watched his shoulders sag. “I see. You want to sign me as a client to your matchmaking agency. How much?”
Giddiness swept through her. His doubtful, accusing stare confirmed his sharp intelligence. This was going to be fun. “Ah, you think I’m a hustler, don’t you? Think I want to take a huge deposit, promise you the world, and walk away, right?”
“It did cross my mind.”
“I’d be disappointed in you if it didn’t. I think I can help you. My main role in Kinnections is to take the clients and give them the tools to meet and connect with the opposite sex. People have issues. The world is hard, especially meeting new people. Sometimes, people need to learn to get past some of their social barriers in order to present themselves at their best.”
An unruly snort burst from his lips. “Oh, I see. You want me to lie and pretend I’m someone else in order to get the girl. That’ll never work.”
“Why not?”
“Because it’s a mirage. I can’t change who I am at the core. I don’t want to.”
“Neither do I. Look, if you don’t get a chance for a woman to see who you really are, you’re never going to find the woman of your dreams. I’m not going to change the person you are—I have no need to. But I will work on some simple surface things in order for you to have more opportunities. First impressions are critical. I’m talking about a bit of polish. A little refining in social conversation. Make sense?”
He scratched his head. The shaggy hair parted, then fell back around his face like a curtain. “What’s in this for you?”
“Job satisfaction. If I succeed, maybe more business for Kinnections. And an opportunity to help. That’s it.”
“How much?”
“One thousand is the initial sign-up fee. It includes counseling, makeovers, and two dates.”
“And if I agree?”
She sensed surrender, but it needed to be on her terms. He was a project that would take up all her time and energy. “If you agree, I’ll find your match. But you’ll have to put yourself completely in my hands.”
“How long is the contract?”
“One year. Of course, if you don’t see results or aren’t satisfied, you can leave anytime less your initial deposit. It’s all explained in the contract.”
“How do we begin?”
She whipped out her cell phone. “Give me your email and I’ll send over the contract with some other information. As soon as you’ve made your decision, let me know. We’ll schedule the initial consultation and take it from there.”
He recited his email. Her nails clicked as she typed it in her phone.
“Why me?”
She looked up. His raw question hit her gut, and emotion rushed out. Wasn’t it hard enough to go out there, again and again, and fail? To believe there really is someone just for you? This man, in his botched clothes and oversize glasses and orange skin, wanted to believe. He was her greatest test yet and would confirm her belief in happy-ever-afters.
At least, for some people.
Her voice vibrated with determination. “Because I believe there’s someone perfect for everyone. And I want to help you find her.”
He stared at her for a long time, probing her face in utter stillness. Then he nodded. “Okay.”
“Look over the contract. If you agree to the terms, call me, and I’ll get you in this week for a formal consultation. I’m looking forward to working with you.” She took the last gulp of coffee and reached for her purse to throw money down.
His hand shot out and grabbed her wrist. “I got it.”
His grip was snug. She expected soft, damp hands, but they were firm and deliciously warm. She drew back quickly. “Thanks. I’ll be waiting for your call.”
She slid out of the booth and walked out of the diner. Her step was light as she made her way to her car, and the brisk March wind seemed full of possibilities.