Mister Irresistible (Bachelor International #2) - Tara Sue Me

Chapter 1


My best friend, Mia, was up to something. That was the only reason I could think of to explain why she’d ask if I wanted to do dinner after work.

Don’t get me wrong, I loved her, and she’d been my best friend for as long as I could remember, but ever since she got together with Tenor Butler two months ago, I hadn’t seen much of her. Not that I blamed her. She was madly in love and wanted to spend every waking minute with her man. And by every waking minute, I meant that literally. They lived and worked together.

The three of us had been out a few times, but I didn’t enjoy being the third wheel, and no matter how nice Tenor was, there was no escaping the fact that I was the odd man out. Just like those puzzles I used to do in elementary school, the ones where you had to pick out which thing didn’t belong? Circle me with the red crayon, you found it.

Mia and I had just received our vegan taco order from one of our favorite restaurants, and were making our way to an empty table outside.

“This one?” She pointed with her free hand. “It’s mostly shade.”

“Works for me.” I sat down and she followed.

“What? Why are you staring at me?”

“Tell me what’s going on,” I said and took a bite of my taco, tired of waiting for her to spit out the reason she asked me to dinner.

“What makes you think anything is going on?” she asked, and her voice sounded so by-your-leave if I hadn’t known her forever, she might have fooled me.

I rolled my eyes. “Because you’ve been up Tenor’s butt lately. Granted, it’s a nice-looking butt, and I can see the appeal, but the two of us haven’t been out to dinner alone in over two months.”

She stopped chewing and swallowed before answering. “It hasn’t been that long.”

I raised an eyebrow.

“Has it?” she asked.

“I get it,” I said. “I do. But I still think something’s going on.”

Fortunately, she didn’t even try to say otherwise. “You remember the match questionnaire you filled out for me about a month ago?”

Mia and Tenor co-owned a matchmaking business, Bachelor International. The company was the most successful of its type in Boston before Mia joined, and after she did, they’re nearing the top of agencies on the east coast. Especially since a satellite office recently opened in Atlanta. Mia and Tenor have been working to update the questions they ask new clients, and Mia asked me to fill out one of their new questionnaires because they needed more data points.

“Yes,” I said. “What about it?”

“You filled it out with truthful information, right? You didn’t make stuff up because it was something I asked you to do?” She took a bite of taco and waited for my response.

To be quite honest, I’d thought about filling it out with completely ridiculous answers, but ended up being truthful. After all, the data points wouldn’t be helpful if they were all outliers.

“I filled it out with truthful answers,” I said, and then narrowed my eyes. “Why do you ask?”

Mia put her taco down on her plate, and that’s when I knew she meant business. Putting food down meant she didn’t want any distractions while she spoke. I had the sudden urge to run screaming from the table.

“An international client has hired us for his upcoming visit to the States,” she said. Nothing new there. I mean, seriously, the business was called Bachelor International. One would assume they got similar requests all the time. I didn’t see what any of it had to do with me.

“Anyway,” Mia continued. “Tenor asked if I thought you’d be a suitable match for this guy. Of course, I couldn’t say definitively one way or another unless I compared your answers with his. So I did, and Wren, you’re the best match out of our entire database.”

My brain tried to stop listening as soon as it heard, “Tenor asked if I thought you’d be a suitable match for this guy,” but somehow I managed to hang on until the end.

“And what?” I asked. “You want to pair me up with him? Why? I’m not a client of yours.” Not to mention I wasn’t looking for a relationship and had no interest in being matched with a snotty international who more than likely had more money than God. I didn’t care what her database thought.

“You’re not interested at all?” she asked. “Don’t you want