The Dating Game (Alphalicious Billionaires) Read online

  “Exactly. Been there. Done that. You probably didn’t get any better results than I have.”

  “That’s because I was doing the same thing you were doing. Going for the wrong people and expecting some kind of miracle.”

  Jay screwed up his face. It looked like he’d just tripped over a crack in the sidewalk and went sprawling facedown into dog shit on someone’s front lawn. Like, really mushy dog shit.

  “No! No way! I’m not letting you get away with this again. You always make me look bad. It’s like your twenty-ninth degree.”

  “I don’t need a degree for that. You have a Masters all on your own.”

  Jay flipped Alex the bird and Alex grinned. He wouldn’t offer such tough love if he didn’t know that Jay couldn’t take it. They’d been friends since they were kids. The real turning point came for them in their second year of college, when their group project had been to create an app that had the potential to make a big difference in society. So yeah. They’d created it. And yeah, it had. And yeah, they’d made a hell of a lot of money in the process.

  Not that the money part mattered. He had re-invested most of his earnings and till now, Alex actually still lived in a moderate house and drove a moderate car. He didn’t wear expensive suits or expensive shoes. Just regular suits and regular shoes. Just like his advice, middle of the road really was the way to go. Besides, he really did want to help people. It might be corny as hell but growing up with a mom who’d used drugs on and off for his entire life and a dad who’d been to prison twice, both times for jacking cars, it was important to him. Not that he’d ever tell anyone about his past. He hadn’t bothered to bury it, but people just didn’t bring it up and he was more than happy not to.

  “I’m going to bet you twenty bucks because I know you can’t resist a challenge. You always were way too competitive. Like when our prof told us that an app would never work, and we proved her ass wrong. You dug in your heels and you worked for four years on it until it took off and then you worked even harder. It’s like the more success we have, the harder you work.”

  “Yeah, because it matters even more after being successful that you don’t fail.”

  “Anyway,” Alex shook his head. “If you know so much about dating, I want you to prove that your advice works. Maybe if I see it in action, I’ll believe it. I’ve always been one of those hands-on learners. I can’t just read it, I have to see it for myself.”

  Alex nearly laughed. He crossed his hands behind his head and leaned back further in the chair. The thing groaned but took the strain of his weight without sending him ass over heels backward.

  “What’s the bet then?”

  “You have to go online. Be anonymous. Make a fake profile. Pretend to not have any money. See if someone is willing to date you. For like, longer than a week. Let’s say, two weeks. I want you to make it obvious you don’t have much money. Take her on the lamest kind of dates. The kind of dates that completely suck. Make her pay. Like, seriously, have your credit card decline after dinner so she has to pay. That kind of thing. If she’s actually into you, maybe then I will be willing to admit that there are genuine people out there.”

  “But that’s not at all what I was saying.”

  Jay shrugged. “Maybe not. I get your point. I actually just want to see you sweat. So please, record some of it secretly somehow. Even just what she says. It doesn’t have to be video. Just to prove that you did it. And I have to meet her if she’s into you to prove she is. It can’t be contrived or faked or you lose the bet.”

  Alex considered. He’d like to hold one over Jay. The bastard was right. He couldn’t turn down a challenge. He truly was far too competitive for his own good, though he tried to channel his energy into more positive things.

  “Alright.” Alex couldn’t believe he’d just agreed to something so stupid. “But if I pull this off and she’s truly into me, then you have to let me find a girl for you. One who knows you have money, but someone who is willing to see past that. A girl who doesn’t look like she just crawled out of a toy factory.”

  “They do not look like that!” Jay protested indignantly.

  “I’m just saying… they kind of fucking do.”

  Jay flipped him off with both birds. “Sure. You win this bet and I’ll go on whatever date you arrange with someone ugly and we’ll see if we hit it off.”

  “You’re such a dick. How do you want to help people so badly when you can’t even help yourself?”

  Jay was all out of birds. He was all out of snappy comebacks and as he stormed out of Alex’s office, he swore that he heard the guy mutter something about having no fucking idea.

  CHAPTER 3

  Muffy

  Greasy wasn’t her idea of an ideal date, but then again, the whole beggars couldn’t be choosers thing definitely applied. She was definitely a beggar.

  Although, when “Pat” walked in dressed in an ill-fitting suit that looked and smelled like it rolled straight out of the back of a trashcan, she had her doubts.

  Two minutes into the date she’d agreed to because by some miracle, “Pat” had a decent profile and some pictures that looked nothing like he did in person (and for real, people said only women pulled that crap), Muffy was having second thoughts.

  “So, darling, what’s your name?” Pat, if that was even his name, drawled out in a Texas twine. Muffy was pretty sure he damn well wasn’t from Texas or anywhere close.

  “Uh- Muffy.” Fuck. She was too honest. She’d completely forgotten about using a fake name.

  She winced when she watched Pat’s face changed. He was a good six days past needing a shave and she swore there was some old food stuck in the stubble right below his left ear. The particles were incredibly suspicious. She couldn’t stop staring at them. She wondered, absently, if Pat shaved his balls, then wanted to kill Carla for putting that thought into her head. She wouldn’t mind killing Carla in general, for making her go out on this date. She’d been so sure that Pat was a nice guy, and handsome. Yes, she’d actually used the word.

  While Pat turned redder and redder, obviously trying not to laugh, Muffy thought about all the ways she could murder her BFF and get away with it. But because she didn’t watch enough detective shows or homicide movies or read enough thrillers, she could only come up with two viable options and both of them involved the popcorn maker.

  Yup, Carla would definitely not appreciate it if she crashed the bathroom and threw the maker, plugged into an extension cord, into the bath with her. She’d definitely deserve it though, because now Pat was cracking up and his laugh sounded like the wheeze of a dying donkey and spittle was spraying out all over his stubble, and yes, there was definitely corn and toast crumbs below his ear.

  Pat was also a good forty pounds heavier than his photos online and a whole lot greasier. Like he’d just taken a bath in deep fryer oil because he actually enjoyed smelling like old onion rings.

  Muffy did her best not to gag as a wave of rancid onion ring breath hit her straight in the face.

  “Muffy? Like the real muff? Like muff munchers? Like a dirty old muff? A big seventies-style muff? Oh god. That’s a good one. Made my night. You’re a funny lady. I like funny ladies.”

  Dear God, strike me down now. Muffy looked towards the ceiling of the family-style restaurant, but unfortunately, no lightning bolts streaked downwards, ready to smite her where she sat.

  She glanced around frantically, searching the run-down two-star establishment for a server to save her from her misery. Unfortunately, none was forthcoming. The place was only half full, but a few crying kids and demanding couples were all the two waitresses working the entire place, could handle.

  “Just for you, I can be Rico. From- from Latin America. I can give you a really good massage. Be your grease monkey. You’re tall. I would oil you up and climb you like a tree.” Pat licked his lips frantically, staring at her like he was imagining running that slimy looking tongue all over her body.

  Holy fucking shit, Carla is
a dead woman.

  Muffy shoved back her chair. “You know, I forgot. I- uh- I- have to go get groceries. For my grandma. She called right- uh- this afternoon and I promised I’d get her those cabbage rolls she likes because she’s my granny and I love her and I could never disappoint her and I completely forgot, so yeah, I have to go. Right now. Like… Right. Now.”

  She didn’t wait for an answer, she rushed towards the front door. She thanked her lucky damn stars that she’d insisted on driving herself to the date because you never could be too safe and online dating was dicey at best.

  In her haste, she didn’t realize that the door pulled out and didn’t push. She ran smack dab into the heavy glass and nearly bounced back. She swayed, saved herself from falling on her ass by a split second and by some universal mercy looking out for her, managed to right herself. She didn’t glance around to see who might have seen. She actually didn’t give two flying shits who witnessed it. Just as long as she got the hell out of there.

  The frigid November air had never been more welcome than it was at the moment. Muffy hurried across the half-full parking lot to her car. It was an older sedan, a station wagon because she was notorious for dragging things home that couldn’t fit in the back of a regular car and driving a truck was too expensive and too inconvenient to park and station wagons were a dime a dozen.

  At the moment, the rusty shitbox looked like heaven. She dove in just in time. The doors locked manually, so she slammed the lock down. She nearly screamed when she raised her eyes and found Pat standing there on the outside of the window.

  “Was it something I said? I promise I’d let you finish first…”

  Aaaarrrrgggggghhhhhhhhh!

  Muffy’s inner panic button went off big time. Thanks, but no thanks, buddy. She started the car and floored it out of the parking space. It was a lucky thing there was no one parked in front of her because she might have run right up their ass if they had been. She didn’t stop until she was a good ten minutes away.

  Finally, she pulled over.

  “Oh my god, oh my god, oh my god,” she moaned. She leaned forward and buried her face in her hands. She leaned against the steering wheel so hard that the horn went off, startling her. She jerked back, heart racing.

  “Carla Anderson, you are totally a dead woman,” she muttered before she peeled back into traffic.

  CHAPTER 4

  Muffy

  “If you want, I can set you up with my brother.” Carla’s wide blue eyes actually looked worried for once. She was giving Muffy one of those I might have fucked up bad looks. As soon as she’d heard about the date, Carla went into full-on sympathy mode. And Carla was never sympathetic when it came to men.

  “Your brother! God no!” Muffy wrung her hands. “Do you have any idea how awful that date was?”

  “Well, he seemed normal online.”

  “Yeah, that’s online. On-fucking-line. You know about online. It’s full of scammers and twisted, sick individuals.”

  “That’s going a little far.”

  “Is it? Is it really, Car? Because that guy seriously looked like he lived in a trash can. He offered to climb me like a tree. A tree! Hmmmm! Does that sound harmless to you?”

  Carla let out an uncharacteristic hmph sound.

  “Yeah. That’s right. It was bad.”

  “Well, there’s always Paul.”

  “I am not going on a date with your brother.”

  “But there was that time you got drunk and-”

  “Don’t say it!” Muffy squeezed her eyes shut. This is so not happening. This is so not happening.

  Carla muted the TV. She paused with the remote in her hand like she didn’t even realize it was there. Twinkletoes sat curled up in her lap, now sans-balls and quite indifferent about the whole ordeal after six days of getting used to the idea of having the extra space between his legs.

  “But you said-”

  “I was drunk. I drank like sixteen million drinks that you yourself insisted we drink. That talk about Paul was drunken rambling nonsense. Being with your brother would be like committing incest. We’ve been roommates for four years and we’ve known each other for seven. Your brother is now like family.”

  “Incest,” Carla snickered. “It would not. Paul’s getting his shit together. He hasn’t taken a random girl home in weeks.”

  “Thanks. That makes me feel so much better. Not going to happen. We both agreed we’d never date each other’s families.”

  “Well, you just have sisters, so… yeah.”

  Muffy sighed. “What are we going to do about the profile? We should delete it. Nothing good is going to come from being on there. I’m only going to go on horrible dates with crazy people who want to oil me up and lick me from head to toe.”

  “Well, that doesn’t sound entirely awful.”

  “Carla! He was gross! He didn’t look anything like his pictures. He wasn’t going to lick me in a sexy way. More like a straight creepy way then he’d probably pull out his peeper and piss on me.”

  “Dear God, you think of some horrible things.”

  “I know,” Muffy wailed. She sunk down on the couch beside Carla. As usual, she was watching some fashion program. Probably trying to scout out a new clothing line for the store. Only Carla could score an opportunity like that off a damn show.

  “You only went on one date. I’ve been on plenty of bad dates. Why do you think I stopped going on them?”

  “Thanks. That’s so encouraging. And it’s not like this is the first one.”

  “No, what I mean is that you’re going to go on a few rotten ones but chances are, you’ll find a couple that are decent too.”

  “Hopefully sooner rather than later.”

  “You’ll find someone.”

  “Remind me why I’m doing this again?”

  Muffy reached over and began to stroke Twinkletoes’ back. His motor revved up big time. She loved the sound he made, like his purr was larger than life. Had he not purred much before he’d been rescued, and was he extra loud to make up for it? It was a sad thought and suddenly Muffy didn’t know if the burning at the bridge of her nose was for herself or the cat.

  “Because you can’t give up. You want to find someone. If you give up now, you’ll wind up a spinster like me because it’s easier to be a spinster and just- uh- scratch the itch when the chance arises and run after rather than actually put in the effort to find someone.”

  “That makes me so hopeful for the future,” Muffy sighed.

  “It’s going to happen for you. You have to give it, like, three more tries. If it’s super bad each time, I’ll delete the profile for you.”

  “Damn it. You set that thing up for me just so that you would be the only one who knows the password to delete it.”

  Carla winked. “Three more times and I’ll delete it. Three more times means you’ve given it an honest try.”

  “Two. Because that makes three times total.”

  “Today was just the warm-up. It only lasted for two minutes so it really didn’t count.”

  “Oh, it counted alright.”

  “Please. Just give it three more times. For me. I don’t want to see you unhappy. You’ll make me want to go to Steve’s house and egg it. Or throw toilet paper all over his trees. Or maybe put a brick through his front window. Or scratch his car.”

  “All of those are tempting, but we’d probably get caught and end up in jail. I’ve never been arrested. I’d like to keep that streak going. It’s bad for business, going to jail. Who would run your store?”

  “Who would keep that dismally boring company going if they didn’t have an accountant.”

  “Construction isn’t boring. It’s a perfectly valid industry. Without construction, we wouldn’t have roads or buildings.”

  “Sorry. I could do without.”

  “No, you couldn’t,” Muffy scoffed, but when Carla grinned at her, she had to admit she’d started to feel better.

  “So- three more tries? For me?” Carla b
atted her ridiculously long lashes. Muffy wished that just for one minute, Carla didn’t have to look so pretty without makeup. She was lounging around in pajamas and she still looked like the homecoming queen she’d been in high school.

  “Maybe being a spinster, as you so horribly termed it, isn’t the worst thing in the world. Especially if we stick together. I’d like to sit and watch your ass get fat.”

  “Thanks,” Carla laughed. She had the same strange sense of humor that her two brothers had. Honestly, when it came right down to it, she probably had a dirtier mind than both of them put together, and Paul and Jason had some pretty dirty minds. “Three more times then it’s just you and me. Together forever. I’ll write a song about it.”

  “You can’t even sing, and you don’t play any instruments.”

  “I’ll learn. Just for you.”

  “I’m flattered.” Muffy grinned. “Alright, alright. I’ll give it three more tries, just so we don’t ever have this conversation again about how I didn’t put in the effort. After that, I’m done trying. If I find someone, great. If I don’t- well… maybe love will just run me over one day.”

  “Hit you like a bus.”

  “You laugh now but that’s what’s going to happen to you if you’re not careful.”

  Carla made a face. “No god damn way.” She grabbed the remote and tuned out, back into the world of fashion, while she caressed her cat and started up the purr storm all over again.

  Even though she pretty much hated fashion, Muffy eased back into the couch. There was no way she was getting up anytime soon even though she was hungry and miffed and could use a shower to wash off the bad voodoo from the horrible date.

  Right there on the couch with her best friend and the shaggy, crotchety old tom was right where she wanted to be. It was a pretty darn good end to a pretty darn horrible night.

  CHAPTER 5

  Muffy

  Please don’t let him look like a hobo and smell like a dragon. Please don’t let him be a pervert. Please don’t let him breathe fire. Please don’t let him smell like garlic and onions. Please, please, please, just let him be normal.