Booty Camp Dating Service Page 3

  Hazel was forcing him to make mistakes. Before she had barged in here to demand her money back, he'd been facing the agonizing decision of who to place her with for her first date.

  Wolf could sense energies that would work well together. It wasn’t any paranormal bullshit, but his family had always been able to get a good read on people. The chemistry that made them who they were was highlighted for him and every woman in his family tree. He was the first male to be able to do the matchmaking, as far as they could tell.

  All the other dating services matched up questionnaires and used math and statistics to place together people who sought a mate.

  Not Booty Camp.

  Wolf had his staff take a Polaroid of the clients. It didn’t have to be a Polaroid—it could be any picture, but he liked the feel of the Polaroid for matching energies. And then he would make piles of like energies. Some went together like salt and pepper or bread and butter—but that was rare. Usually in a group, there would be a few energies that would work together.

  Hence the dating portion of the business. If the pheromones and life experiences were a miss, the couple would be less inclined to meet up with each other. Any leftovers from the city before—there was always one or two, but never more than five—would be matched with someone in the next city.

  A hundred and ten percent correct. He would find someone for everyone. Having the business was genius. It brought people with open energies together and made his matchmaking job so much easier. For two years he’d been matching the hell out of people. His staff were not allowed to date clients, but they'd seen how every single person was eventually matched, so they believed wholeheartedly in what they were doing.

  Before he was puzzling over Hazel’s matches, he’d checked out Chance's and Claire’s energies. They were an off-the-charts match. Chance’s cheesy photo in the flier was a singsong match for Claire’s vibrant Polaroid. Wolf had been pissed that Chance had made so many obvious passes at the woman, but after seeing the pictures, he knew this was the very match his friend needed in his life.

  And Wolf had made a horrible first impression by having the woman’s friend sprawled out on the floor, skirt above her waist, when Claire walked in.

  He sighed. “Can I get you a glass of water? An aspirin? Do we need an ambulance?”

  It hadn't been that hard a knock on the head, but the skull was a crazy place and Hazel could be more injured than he thought.

  “Or the cops?!” Claire put her arm around her friend’s shoulders.

  Hazel put her hand on Claire’s arm. “He wasn’t trying to hurt me. Stop me from taking back my illegal contract, yes, but I fell off balance. I still hate him. And I still want my money back.”

  Wolf squatted low and put out a hand. “I’m truly sorry. I wasn’t expecting you to attack. And the only reason I put up any resistance is I’ve been looking at the matches and you have so many that are close to a perfect selection. I think you need to stay. For your future.”

  Claire spoke before Hazel could. “Of course you want her to stay. Look at her. Jesus, her rack is the thing of dreams, and her face looks like the result of a Victoria Secret model having sex with Aphrodite’s brother. Her skin is perfect, and her ass is the best I’ve ever seen in jeans.”

  Hazel looked at her knees, blushing.

  Claire was right. Wolf had been all over the country in rooms full of single women for years now, and he’d never had his mouth go dry at the sight of any of them. He’d even tripped a little when he saw Hazel.

  Her brown hair was long and shiny, and her big blue eyes could probably start a few wars. There was no ignoring her body, with its tiny waist and ass that could make grown men cry. Hazel was more than that, though, the way her face was so inviting. She was exactly what his soul pictured when it heard the word lovely.

  “Men are usually willing to hump a cactus to get her number. So I’m not surprised. But your manhandling her goes through me.” Claire helped Hazel to her feet.

  Chance gave him bug eyes.

  Wolf tossed up his hands and mouthed, “Fix this.”

  Wolf's best friend was on his team for a reason: Chance was great at people. If peopleing was a definable skill, Chance would have a Masters in it. Wolf often led people to believe that Chance was the owner of Booty Camp because, while Wolf could help people become happy, he was far too gruff to deal with the public.

  “Beautiful Claire, please. Understand my buddy here would never hurt any woman on purpose. Honestly. He’s been known to go to the venue a couple was going to for a date for the first time just to make sure it went well. He’s really caring, he just has the social skills of a hiney badger.” Chance bit his lip then went about correcting himself, “Honey badger. Sorry. Hiney badgers would be bad.”

  Wolf put his palm to his forehead. His go-to guy was fumbling. It figured. Chance was probably off his rocker because he was so close to Claire.

  Hazel held out her hand. “The check. That’s all I want.”

  Wolf cringed. “I’m sorry, checks get automatically deposited, and there's a whole process that will take at least two weeks, maybe more. If you had paid with a credit card, this would have been a simple refund.”

  Hazel shook her head and touched her temple.

  “You okay?” Chance asked.

  “No. I think I feel a lawsuit coming on.” Hazel looked straight at him with her big blue eyes.

  Chance chuckled. “She’s got all those guys out there with their hearts in their hands and a sense of humor. Too bad you can’t have more than one husband at a time in this state.”

  Wolf gave Chance a look that he hope conveyed: Please, for the love of everything holy, please stop talking.

  Chance missed the look because he was too busy staring at Claire.

  Hazel rolled her eyes and turned her back on him. Claire followed her out but not before touching Chance’s hand.

  Chance shut the door behind them and took a second to gather his thoughts. “What’s the deal? Just give her cash back? Also, Claire’s my match, right? I mean, she has to be.”

  Wolf walked back to his chair and collapsed. He picked up the picture of Hazel between his index finger and middle finger like it was a baseball card he might throw.

  “Claire’s your match. Best one I’ve ever seen. You can’t date her until we are out of town, though.” Wolf looked at Hazel in the picture, her eyes were wary. She was hurting. Her energy was extremely fragile.

  So many of the men on the table would be a great match for her. The caretaking energy was strong with at least three of them. Not soul mate matches, but stable guys.

  But Wolf felt something he’d never encountered before when making a match.

  He felt jealous.

  Chapter 4

  Wolf is not even

  a normal name

  Hazel leaned against the wall outside the office while Claire fussed over her.

  “Are you sure you’re okay? I will go back in there and show him what it feels like to have a redhead rip out your nut hair.”

  Hazel smiled. “No, I’m fine. I barely hit my head, really. I’ve knocked my head harder on my kitchen cabinets. But I would like to see that whole attack go down.”

  Claire fixed Hazel’s hair. “I just got this manicure, so maybe as soon as I get my first chip in it, I’ll come back and have at him.”

  “Is his name Wolf? Is that what I heard?” Hazel picked up a pamphlet from the side table that had been pushed against the wall. The staff was listed at the bottom of the last page. Sure enough Wolfgang Shakespeare Saber was listed as one of the last employees. “Yup. There he is. I guess we know exactly what you name a pretentious asshole.”

  “In my mother’s defense, she didn’t know I would turn out this way.” Wolf had exited the office just in time to hear Hazel’s comment.

  Hazel narrowed her eyes at the man holding a thick file. “Maybe she was a baby-naming savant. Because she nailed it.”

  Wolf gave her a sideways smirk. Chance touche
d Claire’s shoulder and smiled. “Come on, this is the best part. We set up the first dates. They’ll happen in a minute.”

  Claire checked with Hazel, and she gave the universal gesture for okay to show her friend that she'd be all right.

  She overheard Chance whisper to Claire, “Is it okay if they don’t set you up? I just can’t imagine letting any other man take you on a date.”

  Her friend batted her eyelashes before answering like Marilyn Monroe singing Happy Birthday. “Oh yes. I think that would be amazing. Plus, you didn’t even take my money. So I can’t partake.”

  Hazel lagged behind the star-struck lovebirds until Chance kissed Claire’s cheek and bounded up to Wolf to snag the folder. As she looked around, she was pretty sure the staff was more excited than the clients, and that was saying something.

  Chance revealed the names of the dating pairs as though they had won the Price is Right “Showdown Showcase.”

  And as Hazel watched skeptically from the back of the theater, single after single paired up. And they were acting like lovesick fools—well, most of them. The men were going overboard with the praise, and the ladies were eating it up the way they never would in a bar. Cheesy seemed to be the flavor of choice.

  After the first wave of matches was made, the secondary matches were announced. Chance did a great job of explaining these were the matches that Booty Camp might require a bit of experimentation to get right. Hazel noticed neither her nor Claire's name had been mentioned.

  Wolf approached them. “You still a confrontational jerk?”

  Hazel shook her head while giving him the finger.

  “Good, glad to see you're feeling like yourself.”

  Claire growled in Wolf’s direction.

  The Booty Camp staff began mingling through the crowd with appetizers, glasses of wine, and mugs of beer.

  Chance came back to Claire and Hazel, leaving Wolf standing a little off to the side.

  Chance looked legitimately concerned, checking on Hazel and asking her to close her eyes and open them as he shone the flashlight app on his phone into them.

  “Equal and reactive. Do you have a headache at all? Are you feeling nauseous?”

  Wolf toed the floor in what seemed to be embarrassment.

  “Yes, I’m sick to my stomach that this guy stole my money, and because I paid with a check, I effectively have to hook myself out for five dates to earn my money back.” Hazel widened her eyes in Wolf’s direction.

  Chance was a smooth talker, though, immediately launching into a convincing speech about how she could—nay, would—find a life partner and that in this world, having someone that understood her on a fundamental level would be beneficial and worth more than the admission fee. And getting the opportunity to be granted happiness was a chance millions were desperate to participate in. Chance got her to smile twice and laugh once.

  When she finally shrugged, he launched into action, putting his giant arm gently around her shoulders and leading her to the front of the room where two dudes were chatting with each other while glancing around the room. They were nice-looking. And when they saw Chance headed toward them with Hazel in tow, their faces lit up like Christmas morning.

  Either of these guys would look great walking her to her apartment. Scott would have to walk past her and one of these suitors to get to the elevator. She would make sure of it.

  When she was close enough to see that both men had brown eyes, Chance stopped in his tracks. Wolf began angrily whispering in his ear.

  Hazel watched as a little of the sincere charm dropped from Chance’s face, and his eyebrows knit together. He added loud enough for Hazel to hear, “Okay. You’re the boss.”

  He turned to her and gave her an expectant smile. “Actually, those guys aren’t your match. Um... your match wasn't able to make it tonight.”

  He steered her back to Claire, and Wolf made himself scarce after obviously sabotaging her future dates.

  “So who is it, then? If it is not one of those guys.”

  Chance excused himself with a self-appointed job instead of answering her question. “You know what? You guys haven’t gotten any of the hors d'oeuvres. Let me go grab some for us before they're all gone.”

  Claire stepped closer to Hazel. “Seriously, what was that about? I thought those guys were excited to see you?”

  Wolf appeared with a glass of red wine for each of them. “They were excited to see Chance, not Hazel. Look.”

  Hazel accepted the glass just as Claire did, and together they turned their heads in time to watch the two potential suitors hold hands.

  Wolf cleared his throat. “They’re a match for each other. We’re two men shy tonight, so we’ll have to wait to find your match.” He indicated to Hazel with the knuckle of his index finger. “We'll send out a second wave of applications to replace those that got a match tonight.”

  “Are you kidding? You did this on purpose to keep my money. I am not a hundred and ten percent satisfied. I want to be a thousand dollars’ worth of satisfied tonight!” As she finished, Hazel realized the entire theater had quieted.

  Wolf lifted an eyebrow. “You’re a tough lady to satisfy. We might need a car battery and jackhammer, so I hear.”

  Hazel felt the embarrassment crawl up her face as she realized what their argument sounded like. He was insinuating that she wanted someone to “service” her in the very oldest sense of the word.

  Chance appeared with two more wine glasses, and Hazel narrowed her eyes.

  “Oh, okay. I guess I’ll get my thousand dollars' worth somehow.” She chugged her wine and handed the empty to Claire. Then she took the two wine glasses from the tray Chance was holding and alternated taking slugs from each glass.

  The conversation picked up again—quietly at first while Chance, Wolf, and Claire watched Hazel pound the alcohol.

  God bless Claire, she was at least a good wingwoman, letting Hazel revenge drink.

  When those two glasses were finally empty, Hazel shoved them at Wolf. “Here.”

  But it wasn’t enough. Tops, she had ingested fifteen dollars’ worth of wine. She looked around and spotted a very lush, expensive, framed picture on the wall.

  Hazel went Scarlett O’Hara on the moment and walked up to it. “I bet this will fetch a price.”

  Hazel lifted the heavy picture off the wall and staggered a little under the weight of it. As soon as she had the picture balanced—which was quite a feat with heels on—she lifted her chin and addressed Wolf. “Good day, sir.”

  Chance put the tray under his arm and stepped forward, probably to relieve Hazel of the picture, but Wolf held up his hand, stopping him. “No, it’s fine. We’re renting the space and everything, but it’s fine.”

  Hazel’s dignity was now reliant on her staggering out of the fancy theater while holding onto a huge framed painting.

  She managed to get to the first door when she remembered it wasn’t automatic. Which was an issue. Wolf gallantly bowed and added some flourish with his hand before holding the door open for her.

  “By all means, let me help you commit this bold misdemeanor.”

  Hazel was really reconsidering her brazen problem-solving as she shouted to Claire, “Are you cool if I leave? This is heavy.”

  Claire gave her a very confused-looking thumbs up, but Hazel wrangled the painting out the door. Wolf trailed behind only to sprint ahead and hold the second door for her.

  When she was on the sidewalk, she realized she had to set it down to use her car service app. She executed a very unfeminine squat to place her new painting on the ground and let the top rest against her hip while she dug around for her phone.

  Wolf stood nearby, arms folded, watching her.

  “What?” She called up a car and received the confirmation that it was about three minutes away.

  “You’re going to keep going with this?” He gestured to the giant painting.

  “Yes.” She gripped the frame again now that her phone was tucked away.

&
nbsp; “How are you going to get it in the car?” He closed one eye while he appeared to size up the giant piece of artwork.

  “With my arms. And my anger. It’ll work.” The wine that she'd pounded was hitting her pretty hard. That was the last thing she needed him to see. “Why are you standing here?”

  “It’s been a while since I had a video go viral online, so I think you jamming that painting you stole into a stranger’s car while all dressed up might be the fuel my social media presence needs right now.” He held up his phone and said, “Smile.”

  She held up her middle finger to the ass-clencher for the third time in the last hour.

  The car service pulled up, and the woman who got out to greet her was already shaking her head.

  “Yeah, I hope you’re leaving that with your boyfriend because there’s no way that will fit in here.”

  “He’s not my boyfriend.” She gave Wolf a dirty look.

  “I like to refer to myself as the latest victim of her most recent crime spree.” He pretended to shine his ring on his T-shirt.

  “Okay. Who am I taking where?” The driver obviously had a busy night ahead of her.

  Hazel felt unexpected tears trying to make an ass out of her. She bit her tongue.

  Wolf stepped forward and opened his wallet. “How much can I pay you for coming here to witness this?”

  Hazel held on to the painting while Wolf settled up the bill.

  “She and I will sort this issue out, and we can try to call you again. Thanks for your patience.” He accepted the business card from the driver before she left.

  “How’s your head?” It was chilly outside. And her top was dangerously close to revealing even more about her than she wanted Wolf finding out.

  “It’s great. I’m great.” Hazel felt like the heels on her shoes might be uneven.

  He stepped forward and held her elbow.

  “Can we bring the picture back inside the theater? Because I’m not a critic, but I think the frame alone is worth more than I owe you.” He lifted it easily.