“True,” he said. “I never know if holding hands on a first date is too much too soon, or not enough too late.” Tag chuckled. “And do I kiss her on the first date, or wait for the second or third date?”
Leslie snorted. “Some women would go for the whole enchilada on the first date.” She frowned. “That doesn’t mean you have to.”
He held up his hands. “I don’t plan on it. This is supposed to be an effort to find a life mate, not a one-night stand, right?”
She nodded. “That’s right. Although some people are only looking for a date. That was Sean and Ava. They only wanted a decent date and look what they got. The whole package.” She sighed. “They’re perfect for each other.”
Tag covered her hand on the mouse. “You’re going to find someone perfect for you, too.”
She turned her hand over beneath his and squeezed. “I had someone perfect for me. What are the chances of finding it a second time?”
“I believe he’s out there. He just might not look like Randy. He might have different but equally appealing qualities. You just have to let Randy go and quit comparing all men to him.” He lifted her hand and pressed a kiss to her knuckles. “I get it. He was a great guy, but he’s gone. You have a big heart, capable of a whole lotta love. Let yourself love again.” He kissed her knuckles again, and then let go of her hand. “Let’s get done here. I want to find out who BODS is going to set you up with.”
Leslie stared at him a little longer before she turned to the monitor, positioned her fingers on the keyboard and went back to work.
Minutes later, Tag hit the enter key and sat back. “For what it’s worth, I’m done.”
Leslie nodded and hit the enter key herself. “And so am I.” She drew in a deep breath and held it for a moment before letting it out slowly. “I have to admit, I’m a little scared.”
Tag laughed. “So am I.”
“You are?”
He nodded. “Just think, this could be our last first dates.”
“I hadn’t thought of that,” Leslie said. “That sounds kind of final.”
“It also means that it might be the last time we get to go out to dinner together or to a movie, just you and me.” Tag gave her a crooked grin. “I think I’ll miss that the most.”
“What do you mean?” Leslie frowned. “You’re not going anywhere, are you?”
“No, but if we find someone else, that someone might not understand us going out together…without them.”
Leslie looked down at her keyboard. “You’ve always been there. Even after Randy and I married. He didn’t mind it when you came with us to the movies. We were all friends.”
“Not every woman or man will see it that way.” He held up his hands. “Just saying. But no use borrowing trouble. We have yet to find a date.”
As if on cue, Tag’s computer beeped. Leslie and Tag turned to his monitor.
“BODS has found several matches for you,” Leslie said, her voice little more than a whisper.
Tag’s hand hovered over the mouse.
Leslie’s computer beeped.
Tag and Leslie’s gazes switched to her monitor.
Leslie’s face paled. “I’m not ready for this.”
“It won’t hurt to see who BODS thinks your perfect match is,” Tag said. “You don’t have to date any of them.” In the back of his mind, he hoped she wouldn’t date them. But then she had to find his alter ego and start up a conversation with him. The others would only be people she could compare him against.
She glanced at him, her eyes wide.
“Come on, we can do this,” he said. “On three… One… Two… Three.” He pressed the enter key at the same time as Leslie. As the monitor blinked, Tag held his breath, praying his plan had worked.
Three profiles came up on Tag’s monitor. He shot a glance toward Leslie’s monitor. Four profiles came up on hers. Otis Peebles, Herman Lansing and Milton Koch. The last name on the list was Joe Fox.
He let go of the breath he’d been holding. The first phase of his plan had been initiated. His alter ego was one of her candidates, even if his real profile hadn’t come up. Now, all she had to do was make contact.
Chapter 4
Leslie’s hand shook as she cradled the mouse. “Four.” She swallowed hard. “That’s a lot.”
“Make sure you give all four a chance. BODS matched you for a reason.”
She leaned over and glanced at his screen. It was easier to concentrate on Tag’s matches than on hers.
“I only have three,” Tag said.
“Three is better. Less to compare with.”
“With my friends, they only had one each. Why so many with us?” Tag asked.
“Because there are more people in the system now,” Leslie said. Now, she was wishing she’d done this sooner when there weren’t so many. Four was a lot. She shuddered.
“I thought you vetted all your clients,” Tag said.
“I run them through a background check before they can go live. They can enter a fake name, but they are required to enter their real one for the background check. I understand how some don’t want their real names used right away. Especially if they’re very rich. That’s the purpose of BODS—to find matches for wealthy clients when their prospective dates don’t have any idea of the value of their checking accounts or stock portfolios. And I check that they aren’t already married. That was a big deal. I don’t want my clients getting involved in extra-marital affairs because they trusted my system.”
“Good thinking.” He looked at her monitor. “So, who’ve you got, and what are you going to do with them?”
“I thought we’d go through yours first,” she said with a smile. “Since your list is shorter.” Her smile turned to a grimace. “I’m really procrastinating, but that’s to your benefit.”
“Okay, but we have to save time to go over your prospects, too,” he said.
“We will,” she promised. There was no getting out of it, now that she’d committed to testing the waters of the dating pool. “Who’s first up?”
“Twyla Stratton,” Tag said. “Computer programmer. She likes action-adventure movies, reading science fiction, can ballroom dance and ride horses. Twenty-eight years old, five-feet-six-inches tall, auburn hair and hazel eyes.”
“She’s pretty and intelligent. You have a common background in computing.” Everything Tag could want and more. Leslie’s heart constricted. “Sounds good. Worth a first date. What else have you got?”
“Chrissy Trent.” Tag squinted at the monitor. “Nurse. Likes old sports cars, runs marathons and triathlons. Loves children. Five-feet-three, blond hair, blue eyes and thirty-four years old.”
“She looks ripped,” Leslie said, wrapping her arm around her middle, feeling suddenly inadequate. Sure, she worked out, but not like that. Two miles was her limit when she went jogging. “You like to work out. I’m sure you’d find a lot in common. And she loves children.” Her heart slipped a little lower in her belly. “Next?”