A Hire Love. Candice Dow

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СКАЧАТЬ our services.”

      “Okay.”

      She winked. “I’ll look out for you.”

      I covered my chest with my hand. “Really?”

      “I gotchu, Ms. Barnes.”

      “Thanks.”

      “No problem. Someone will be out in a second to take you back.”

      A middle-aged lady opened the door, came out, and smiled. My insides frowned. How is she supposed to help me find someone with the right combination of street and intellect? I crept toward her, “Hi.”

      Her quivery voice said, “Hello, Ms. Fat-a-mah.”

      I smiled at Shakemia, and corrected her, “Fa-tee-mah.”

      “Yes, Fat-a-mah, I am Gertrude. C’mon back.”

      As we walked back to her conference room, she went over what I was supposed to have read. “I’m sure you know that I’ve been doing this informally for over thirty years. The business has been in existence for about ten. I’m really good at what I do. I help you handpick all of your dates. I do a full psychological profile before the first date.”

      “We have to do this tonight?”

      “It depends when you’d like to go on your first date. Are you in a rush?”

      “Oh no, I’m in no rush to date.”

      She snickered. “No, honey. I mean are you in a rush this evening?”

      I checked my watch as if I had more to do than read manuscripts and she waited for my response. I shook my head and she invited me to sit at the conference table.

      “Okay, we’ll profile you this evening.”

      The dysfunctional connotation associated with profiling rattled my nerves. “How do you profile?”

      “You take a series of quizzes.”

      “Are they open book?”

      She didn’t respond. Her fifty-something maturity didn’t find me at all humorous, so I reverted to intellect. “So what do you conclude from these quizzes?”

      “They give me an idea of what you’re looking for. How you expect to be treated. What type of person you’d be most attracted to.”

      “So, when do I get to the pictures?”

      “Well, you’ll only see pictures of men that you’re compatible with.”

      “So, how long does it take you to grade the quizzes?”

      She chuckled and pointed to the computer workstation. “Your answers will be analyzed immediately. Then, our database will be automatically searched for matches. And you and I will analyze the results. How’s that sound?”

      “Sounds good.”

      As I sat down at the workstation, she gave me basic instructions. I raced through the series of questions that had nothing to do with me going on a date and became irritated. Why Mya thought this made more sense than online dating perplexed me. The nine hundred and eighty dollar per month overhead charge for this fluffy office was the only difference I could identify. If nothing comes of this, I swear Mya is giving me back my money.

      When I finished the useless profile, I walked to her office and smiled. “All done.”

      As she looked at her computer screen, she motioned for me to have a seat. “A widow, huh?”

      No matter how often I hear it, the word makes me cringe. “Yes, my husband died three years ago.”

      “He really took care of you, huh?”

      Yeah. Yeah. Yeah. Get to the point, lady.

      She smiled. “I’m just analyzing your results.”

      “I thought you said the computer does that.”

      “Well, Fat-a-mah.”

      I curled my lips. She continued, “We have a large database of professionals and it’s rare that you come up with no matches. So, when that happens—”

      “Are you saying I don’t have any matches?”

      Her lips folded and she nodded. “I usually go back and analyze the results myself.”

      Just friggin’ great! When I decide it’s time to date, the damn computer says there are no men out here for you, Ms. Fat-a-mah.

      “So what does your analysis say?”

      She turned from the computer and folded her hands on her desk. “When did your husband die again?

      “Three years ago.”

      “It appears he was a lot older than you. How much?”

      What did my new date have to do with me and Derrick’s age difference? “Seven.”

      “He practically did everything for you.”

      “No. He did what a man should do for his wife.”

      She chuckled. “I hate to tell you this, but your expectations are out of this world.”

      I snatched my neck back. She nodded. “Based on what you’ve written, I don’t think anyone can make you happy right now.”

      Thanks lady. Thanks a whole lot. Can I get my damn check back? I raked my fingers through my hair and her jaw dropped. “You still wear your ring?”

      As I peeked down at my three-karat princess-cut diamond solitaire, I clasped my hands together.

      “I’m sorry. I don’t think we can help you. You can get your check back from Shakemia. Maybe you need some more time to get over your husband.”

      I don’t need to get over him. I don’t want to get over him. Still, her conviction aggravated me. “So, you’re trying to tell me that you don’t have anyone that fits my criteria?”

      She shook her head, and I pleaded, “I mean, it’s just a date.”

      “People are searching for spouses. One thousand dollars a month is a pretty penny if you’re just looking for a date.”

      I said, “Money is not an issue. I’m just looking for quality guys to date. If there’s nothing you can do for me…”

      When I stood, she motioned for me to sit. “This is against the rules, but I’ll let you view a few profiles and we’ll charge you one hundred dollars per date.”

      With both thumbs up, I said, “Okay, let’s do this.”

      “Don’t tell anyone I did this for you.”

      “You’ve got СКАЧАТЬ