Dream Date with the Millionaire Page 3

  Checking out a competitor was one thing, but market research had never made her feel so tacky or dirty, as if she were doing something she wouldn’t want her mother to know about. In fact she hadn’t told her mother about it. Or her sisters. The only people who knew besides James were Marissa and Grace. Dani wanted to keep it that way.

  “I need to know everything about bdb,” he continued. “That includes their clients.”

  The expectant look in his eyes sent a shiver down her spine. “You’re not suggesting I—”

  “Go out with them,” he said at the same time. “Meet whoever contacts you. Dates are the perfect opportunity to check out whether bdb customer expectations are being met or not. You can put together a profile of their users for me, too.”

  Her shoulders slumped.

  When James had told her she would have to get her hands dirty with all facets of Internet marketing she had no idea this was what he meant.

  “I can’t do this,” she said. “I won’t lead guys on.”

  James grinned. “They won’t mind. Any guy would be thrilled to date a woman like you. Trust me.”

  Her boss was the last person she trusted, but she knew what he meant. Most men never saw past her curves to her personality. Or even the color of her eyes. But this felt…“It’s still wrong.”

  “What’s the big deal, Danica?” James sounded irritated, as if she’d told him the Web site needed to be patched again to work on Internet Explorer 6. “Meet them for coffee. Cupcakes. Conversation. You don’t have to sleep with them unless you want to.”

  Dani’s stomach roiled. “This is a—”

  “Start with the guy who made you laugh,” he interrupted.

  Excitement shot through her. Okay, she liked the idea of meeting Bigbrother, especially with her boss giving her permission, but that wouldn’t be fair. “I really don’t think—”

  “It’s not your call.” James read the e-mail on her screen. “Bigbrother, huh? I wonder what’s big about him.”

  She cringed. The guy did not look like a player. Far from it. She was worried she might hurt him.

  “Hit ‘reply’,” James ordered.

  Dani didn’t. She couldn’t.

  A part of her wanted to quit. Right now. But, with her student loans and family obligations, she couldn’t afford to be without a decent paycheck. That was the one thing she had to say about her boss—he paid well.

  James reached around and hit “reply”. “Tell him you want to meet him for coffee.”

  “But I don’t want to meet him for coffee. I have no idea who he is. I know absolutely nothing about him.”

  Nothing except he intrigued her. The way he’d approached her. His brief e-mail. His quick reply. His picture.

  “If you don’t ask him out,” James said with a steely glint in his eyes, “I will.”

  Dani gulped. She knew he would follow through on the threat. “I’ll do it myself.”

  James didn’t move. A muscle flicked at his jaw.

  “I can reply right now,” she added.

  Dani started typing an invite to coffee, aware and annoyed that James was peering over her shoulder.

  “Make sure you tell him the meeting is your treat,” he said. “That can make a difference to some guys.”

  Darn James anyway. Her exchanges with Bigbrother had been fun and flirty, but her boss was ruining it. “Do I get to expense it?”

  James tossed a twenty on her desk. “No expense form needed.”

  Dani hit the “send” button, lobbing the ball back over the net to Bigbrother’s side of the court. The next move was up to him. She was torn over how she wanted him to respond. She hoped he ignored her request or said no because she didn’t want to mislead him, but a part—a large part—wanted him to agree to meet her.

  Just then another e-mail from Blinddatebrides.com appeared in her in-box. Maybe she’d lucked out and the system had kicked her reply for some reason. And then she saw the sender’s name. Gymguy. Oh, no. Not another one. She shook her head.

  “Woo-hoo,” James said. “Looks like you’re Miss Popular. Want some help replying to Gymguy?”

  Dani sighed. “I know what to do.”

  Unfortunately.

  “Thanks, Danica,” James said, backing out of the cubicle, much to her relief. “I won’t forget all that you’re doing for the site.”

  She stared at the twenty. Neither would she.

  “How’s it going?” Joelle entered Bryce’s office carrying a pizza box with a paper bag sitting on top.

  The scents of oregano and freshly baked crust made his stomach growl. He glanced at the clock. Eight o’clock? He’d lost track of time, but wasn’t surprised with everything going on.

  “Trying to stay a step ahead of the scammers isn’t easy. They may have found a hole, but they couldn’t crack the encrypted format.” That unfortunately wouldn’t stop them from trying to steal information again. Every time Bryce’s engineers changed something, the hackers would modify their programs to try and get around the new security. It didn’t help matters that they used stolen credit cards to register and pay for membership. If only he could run background checks on everyone who wanted to join, not just U.S. citizens. That would crack down on foreign scammers. “Talk about a cat and mouse game. It’s never ending.”

  “Just remember to eat,” Joelle said.

  “The team—”

  “I ordered enough food for everyone.”

  Always thinking. Always one step ahead. Sometimes Bryce thought Joelle could read his mind. “Thanks.”

  She opened the bag and pulled out a Styrofoam box and packets of Parmesan cheese and chili peppers. “Start with the salad, please.”

  He grabbed a slice of sausage and mushroom pizza from the box and bit into it. “You’re sounding a lot like my mother.”

  “You think?” Joelle’s mouth quirked. “Well, then, as soon as you fix this problem, why don’t you reward yourself by seeing if those matchmaking algorithms you developed can find you a few dates?”

  An image of Sanfrandani with her red bandana around her head popped into his mind. Bryce nearly choked. He swallowed and wiped his mouth with the napkin. “You’ve been talking to my mother. Those words are straight out of her playbook.”

  Joelle’s cheeks reddened. After six months of his mother’s lectures about his dating more, he’d finally told her no more. She’d stopped. Now he knew why. She was trying to have Joelle take up the cause.

  “You have a profile set up,” Joelle said. “You should keep it public all the time, not just when you’re investigating clients or trying to flush out scammers.”

  “I’ll tell you what I told my mother,” Bryce explained. “I spend all my time working on Blinddatebrides.com. It’s a win-win situation. Others find love. I make a whole bunch of money. I can’t handle a relationship of my own right now.”

  He thought about his e-mail exchange with Sanfrandani. That was the closest he’d come to flirting in…weeks. Or was it months?

  “Can’t or won’t?” Joelle challenged.

  “You know I can fire you.”

  She tilted her chin. “Yes, but you’d never be able to replace me.”

  True. One of the most successful online dating Web sites was a one-man show, but Bryce needed help. Joelle handled everything from finances to human resources. She didn’t mind answering the phones, either. Her title of Business Manager was far too bland for all she did. Business Goddess would be a more apt description. He couldn’t run Blinddatebrides.com without her. He knew it, and so did she. “Are you this hard on Connor?”

  “Harder,” she admitted. “But my husband knew what he was getting into when he married me. You, however, had no idea when you hired me.”

  “No regrets.” Bryce winked. “At least none yet.”

  She smiled. “You have to admit, it would be excellent PR if you married someone you met at your own site. Just look at the interest in your sister’s engagement.”

  “Stop. Now.”

&
nbsp; “Okay. I’ll stop. Only because I know you have more important things to do right now, but tomorrow—”

  “Out.”

  “I’m going.” With a grin, Joelle walked out of his office.

  As Bryce waited to hear from one of the engineers, he ate dinner. He’d forgotten everything that didn’t involve the SQL injection, but now he couldn’t stop thinking about one thing. One person really. Sanfrandani. Had she replied yet? He hoped so.

  Checking his in-box, Bryce found a message from her. The corners of his mouth curved. The thrill of the catch, he told himself, and opened the e-mail.

  To: “Bigbrother”

  From: “Sanfrandani”

  Subject: RE: Colonel Brandon

  Wrong on all counts except the uniform. Could go either way there. The Colonel was always there for Marianne. That’s what makes him a true hero.

  But I won’t hold it against you if you meet me for coffee tomorrow morning. Eight o’clock. Crossroads on Delancey. My treat.

  -sfd

  So she was…assertive. Interesting. And she’d picked a great place to meet—a café that hired people who had hit rock bottom and were trying to turn their lives around. But he was wary.

  Why would she make a date with him when she’d rejected everyone else?

  It obviously wasn’t his knowledge of Austen. He looked again at the screen. Wrong on all counts.

  So…was Sanfrandani a spy? A scammer? Worse?

  He pulled up her profile on the Web site and ran a compatibility match with his questionnaire. The program deemed them highly compatible, possible soul mates. That surprised him.

  He stared at her picture. The lighting was a little better than on the print version he had, but not by much.

  Bryce didn’t like being caught off guard, but it had happened more than once today. Flushing out the scammers who probably used hacked computers to do their dirty work with the SQL injection was near impossible, but catching Sanfrandani might actually be…fun.

  What did she want?

  Only one way to find out.

  Coffee tomorrow morning. My treat.

  Bryce smiled. He was looking forward to it.

  Remember, Dani. Proposals made after one cup of coffee are rare. Have fun!

  Marissa’s instant message delivered while Dani had slept brought a needed smile to her face. She’d been a bundle of nerves ever since Bigbrother accepted her invitation to coffee.

  Stop thinking about that. Him.

  Don’t think of the meeting as a date. Consider it market research.

  Grace’s instant message echoed what James had said. Good advice Dani intended to follow. She wasn’t going to let Bigbrother’s profile picture or information blind her to her purpose. Okay, so she’d really liked what he’d written about the importance of family. But she knew from experience most guys would say anything to get what they wanted. Bigbrother was probably misrepresenting himself at least a little.

  She winced. And she was misrepresenting herself a lot.

  Face it, getting to know Bigbrother wasn’t possible under these circumstances. Thinking about him as anything other than market research would be a mistake. Downright wrong. He was not a potential date. He couldn’t be.

  And neither could she be one for him.

  Dani liked what she’d seen about Bigbrother. He looked like a nice guy, the type who might be a little shy and easily hurt.

  She would not be responsible for leading him on.

  Time to scare him off.

  She walked into her closet.

  Fortunately, most guys never looked past the surface. All she had to do was keep the packaging relatively unattractive and her breasts covered, and he’d lose interest.

  Her hand wavered over the fitted jeans and sharp jackets hanging on the rod and settled instead on an ex-boyfriend’s pair of sweats and an oversized hoodie from her college days. She braided her blond hair into a single plait and tied a bandana around her head. She didn’t put on any makeup, but stuck on a pair of sunglasses.

  She squinted at the results in the full-length mirror hanging on the back of the closet door. Perfect.

  Perfectly awful. She grimaced.

  Dani took the bus to an area locally referred to as SoMa, south of Market, filled with loft warehouses, galleries and restaurants. As she walked toward South Beach and the café, a place known for giving second chances—something she desperately wanted herself—her breath hung on the air. Mornings in San Francisco were usually cold and foggy, no matter what the time of year.

  As she stepped inside the café, warm air blasted her. The scent of freshly brewed coffee and pastries filled the loftlike open space and made her mouth water. A good thing. She planned on spending every cent of James’s money this morning.

  Hearing the din of the other customers, Dani glanced around. She’d stared at Bigbrother’s picture enough last night she should be able to recognize him, but none of the people sitting on the couches and chairs looked familiar. Maybe she’d beat him here. Or maybe her darkened sunglasses kept her from seeing clearly. She moved toward an empty table.

  “Sanfrandani?” a male voice asked.

  Dani turned. A man, sitting at a table back against the wall near the bookstore portion of the café, was staring at her. She took a closer look, resisting the urge to push her sunglasses up above her forehead.

  Thick dark lashes framed clear, warm eyes. Brown, maybe black, hair carelessly styled, as if he’d run his fingers through it, not a comb, fell past his collar in the back. His hair hadn’t looked like this in his picture or maybe the cap had hid it. Either way, his hair changed his looks completely. But she wasn’t complaining. In fact, Dani wouldn’t mind running her fingers through his hair. “Big…brother?”

  He nodded.

  Heaven help her. The contrast between his dark hair and lighter complexion and eyes was, in a word, stunning. Talk about a picture not doing someone justice. His photo made him look cute, but didn’t show his true appearance at all.

  Was he hiding something, like her?

  Dani was willing to take that chance.

  As she walked toward him, he stood. Wowsa. He was tall, over six feet. Fit, trim, perfect. Men who looked like him only existed in magazines or the movies or her dreams. Yet she was having coffee with him. Her pulse quickened.

  Pull yourself together.

  Dani extended her arm. His large warm hand engulfed hers, his shake solid. She cleared her throat. “Nice to meet you.”

  He pulled a chair out for her. Good manners. “Thanks for suggesting this.”

  She wanted to thank his parents for having him and James for forcing her to ask Bigbrother out. Intelligent, handsome, polite. A blind date couldn’t get much better than this. Or him.

  Dani took the seat he offered. “You’re welcome.”

  He sat across from her. Their gazes met.

  Her heart bumped.

  Oh, boy. She crossed her legs, tilted her head and gave him her best buy-me-a-drink smile.

  He looked faintly startled.

  Why…?

  “I’m sorry I didn’t recognize you.” She leaned forward just a little.

  “It’s an old photo,” he admitted. “Good thing I had no trouble recognizing you from your picture.”

  Dani frowned. “My…”

  And then she realized. That picture. No wonder he looked taken aback.

  Bigbrother was totally hot.

  And she looked totally…not.

  CHAPTER THREE

  BRYCE watched Sanfrandani tug surreptitiously on the waistband of her baggy sweats and bit back a smile. Nice hips. But the clothes…She looked like a kid who’d dressed with her eyes closed or a coed slumming in her boyfriend’s clothes.

  Obviously she didn’t care what kind of impression she made on him.

  He could find her confidence attractive.

  Or insulting.

  “What will you have?” she asked, sta
nding in line to order.

  “Two shots Americano.”

  She pushed her sunglasses on top of her head to read the menu. “Breakfast?”

  “No, thanks.”

  She turned her head. “Sure?”

  He stared into her sparkling blue eyes and suddenly wasn’t sure about anything. Where had those beauties come from? “I’m not hungry.”

  She stepped up to the counter to order. “A two shot Americano, a white mocha and one lemon-poppy seed waffle.”

  Bryce pulled out his wallet as the barista, a young man with pierced ears and a tattoo on his forearm, pulled the shots.

  Sanfrandani handed the bright-eyed girl behind the counter a twenty. “My treat, remember.”

  Confident, he thought again. And it was attractive.

  “You pay,” he said. “I’ll carry.”

  A beat passed. And another. “Fine with me.”

  As she put her change into her wallet, Bryce gave her the once-over. Okay, all was not lost. He could see raw material there, hidden under the bulky sweats. With those pretty baby blues and full lips most women would pay big bucks to have, Sanfrandani wasn’t so bad.

  She raised an eyebrow. “See something you like after all?”

  Bryce broke into a reluctant grin. “I’ll stick to coffee.”

  “Suit yourself.”

  He picked up their drinks from the counter, followed her past a leather couch to their table against the wall.

  Sitting across from him, she took a sip of her white mocha and licked foam off her upper lip. “Just what I needed.”

  A strand of blond hair had fallen out of her braid and threatened to slip into her drink. Without thinking, he reached forward and tucked it behind her ear. Her hair was smooth, her cheek warm.

  She narrowed her eyes at him.

  Bryce sat back, feeling foolish. “Your hair…it was about to fall into your whipped cream.”

  “Oh.” She flushed. “The curse of long hair, I guess.”

  “Is that why you wear the bandana?” he asked.

  She touched the cloth, as if to remind herself she was still wearing it. The simple gesture reminded him of Caitlin, when she was little and wore a tiara every day.