Take a Chance on Me Page 2

Her mother was still talking, but Rachel had tuned out.

  “And believe me, should things progress, as I think they will, there’s nothing quite like having sex with a complete stranger to bring about an off-the-charts orgasm.”

  The beautician dropped the bowl of wax she’d been carrying. A big gooey mess now sat in the middle of the ceramic tiles. Lucky Rachel didn’t have to scrape that up and wash the floor.

  Rachel glanced in the mirror. Her face was now scarlet and not because of any facial she’d been given.

  She should be used to it by now, but knew she somehow never would be. For her eighteenth birthday, her mother had bought Rachel a stack of sex books, showing everything you needed to know about being pleasured and also pleasuring a man. For her twenty-fifth as she was still single, her mother’s gift had been a vibrator she’d helped design with a sex advice Web site.

  A month ago, her mother had interviewed a lady named Sadie Sutton who ran a matchmaking service, and been so impressed that she’d immediately signed Rachel up.

  “Maybe you should get your nipples plucked, just in case. There’s nothing worse than a guy getting hair in his mouth.”

  That was it. Her mother had said and done enough. At least for today.

  She was getting out of this place. And as for this blind date…well, this would be the first time her mother wouldn’t come out a winner. Rachel stood.

  “I don’t want to seem ungrateful, so I will go along with this lavish matchmaking scheme because you’ve already paid and it’s for my birthday. However, I can assure you that even if this guy looks like George Clooney, I’m not interested in dating him and I’m definitely not having sex with him.”

  Chapter Three

  Mitchell paced up and down in his driveway, looking at his watch. If being in the Army had taught him one thing, it was: always be punctual. After all, you couldn’t be late for a battle, could you? What had happened to the good old days when people were punctual? Even if they weren’t, they had the decency to call to let you know they were on their way…

  The limo driver was at this very moment seventeen minutes and twenty six seconds late. Maybe he shouldn’t be angry. Maybe this was a sign that he shouldn’t be going to the hotel to meet with this stranger. Yeah, that’s what it was, an omen telling him to go back into the house. Open a beer, sit in front of the TV and watch a good movie. He’d tell Ryan he went along, thought she was okay but nothing special. Oh, and he’d even throw in that they’d had sex and he’d enjoyed the orgasm of a lifetime. That should keep his brother quiet for a while.

  He turned around, digging out the key from his pants pocket, and was just about to slip it into the lock when a car horn sounded behind him. Mitchell glanced over his shoulder. Damn, too late––the limo had finally arrived.

  The driver got out and held the back door open for him.

  “So sorry I’m late, sir. Traffic was backed up on the freeway. Had I known, I would have left earlier.”

  “No problem.”

  Mitchell slid into the back seat and placed his overnight bag beside him. The driver closed the door swiftly, shutting out the last of the day’s sunlight. Besides the few twinkling lights on the floor and top of the car, Mitchell now sat in almost total darkness. He had to admit it was relaxing.

  The limo pulled out of his driveway. So this was how the rich and famous travelled every day. And this was all part of the matchmaking service? He could get used to this sort of pampering. Mitchell unzipped his bag, seeing the packet of Trojans his brother had thrown in there when he’d stopped by to wish him luck.

  “I told you I’m not having sex with her,” said Mitchell.

  “I’m betting once you see her you’ll change your mind, so you’ll definitely be needing protection.”

  Mitchell rested his head back and laughed.

  Persistent little devil.

  Ryan had been so, ever since he was a kid. However, Mitchell would get the last laugh because what his brother didn’t know was he’d packed a game of Scrabble and a pack of cards to pass the time. No matter what this stranger tried to do to entice him into having sex––hell, even if she paraded her pussy around in front of him, he wasn’t going for it. She’d play poker and like it, or she could just go home, leaving him to sleep the night away alone.

  He took a deep breath while stretching out his leg. Maybe all he’d have to do would be to drop his pants so she’d see his ugly leg, and that would cool things for her. It had certainly put a damper on his fiancée’s enthusiasm to walk down the aisle. Hell, this woman might even run a mile to get away from him.

  It had rained last night and for some reason the sudden rise in humidity and heat had made the ugly scar stand out, highlighting both its redness and jagged edges. Even doctors couldn’t figure out why it always happened. Maybe after he had the next operation and skin graft it wouldn’t be such an issue.

  Perhaps Ryan had thought if he hooked up with a woman he didn’t know, hadn’t tried to ask out on a date, he wouldn’t be so inhibited. He could bare his body, have a good fuck and not have to worry about seeing her ever again. Maybe, Ryan was smarter than he’d given him credit for.

  However, Mitchell didn’t need sex that bad. He could wait until his leg looked better and then he’d find the right girl. Ms. Right would come along one of these days. In his heart he knew that was true. Their mother always told them there was someone special for everyone on earth and he’d never doubted it.

  The overnight bag slid onto Mitchell’s thigh as the limo driver turned into the entrance of the hotel. Something shiny, like silver glitter, fell onto his head and face. A few seconds later another load fell onto his crotch. He swiped it away.

  What the hell?

  Mitchell studied the roof of the limo but couldn’t see anything. He did his best to try and brush the crap off him. Just what would people think of him getting out of the limo with glitter all over him?

  The vehicle stopped. Mitchell looked out. He whistled, suddenly forgetting about his appearance. Pretty nice place, by the look of the outside. Blue tiles lined the entrance and fountains and trees were at either side of the driveway. Wow, not a small hotel by any means. Mitchell glanced up. At least forty floors. Just how much had this cost Ryan? And how had he managed it on his teacher’s salary? Mitchell hoped he hadn’t gotten himself into debt spoiling his big brother.

  The driver had gotten out of the vehicle and opened the door before Mitchell had a chance to even slide over on the seat to exit.

  “Thank you for the ride,” said Mitchell, exiting.

  He lifted his hand ready to salute the driver, but suddenly remembered he was out of the Army now and this was the beginning of his new life. He froze on the spot, wondering what that life entailed, and what lay ahead for him.

  “Sir, do you have any other luggage?”

  He looked over his shoulder as the limo pulled away. In front of him stood a bellboy, wearing black pants and a maroon jacket bearing the initials PP. Mitchell hadn’t seen him approaching. How long had he been standing there daydreaming?

  “No, just this bag. I’m only here for one night.”

  “If you’d like to come with me I can carry it and show you to the check-in area.”

  “That would be great.”

  Mitchell followed behind, feeling the humid air on his skin. He usually didn’t like its stickiness, but after being in the dry air of the Middle East, it actually felt pretty good.

  The doors swooshed open and the bellboy indicated for him to step toward the reception area that was as fancy as the outside. Marble columns everywhere, an indoor fountain that sat in the middle of the area and what looked like real granite countertops.

  “Can I help you, sir?” asked a woman standing behind the desk.

  “Yes, my name’s Mitchell Farraday and I have reservations for one night.”

  She began tapping at the keyboard.

  “Yes, you’re with the Perfect Pairing service.”

  Mitchell glanced around,
hoping no other guest thought he was meeting a hooker. However, strangely enough there were no other people.

  “Here we are. Suite 452, and by the way Mr. Farraday, Ms. Moore hasn’t checked into your room yet. Thought you might like to know, just in case you want to freshen up before she arrives.”

  Wait a minute. Did this mean they’d be sharing his room? Mitchell was about to dig through his bag to find his cell phone. He needed to tell Ryan there was no way he could go through with this. However, when he glanced to his left, the bellboy headed toward the elevator with the bag over his shoulder, and the receptionist handed him a room pass.

  “Have a wonderful stay with us. And please don’t hesitate to let us know if there’s anything you require that’s not already in your suite.”

  Mitchell felt like the space in the elevator was closing in on him as he stood behind the bellboy and rode up to the thirty-fifth floor.

  Sharing a suite with a complete stranger.

  He’d shared rooms and tents with other guys in the Army but this would be with a woman he’d never met. Would there be somewhere in the room he could hide away and not show any signs of pain if his leg started acting up? He shook his head. What a nightmare. Ryan had a lot to answer for when he got his hands on him.

  The elevator doors slid open and now all Mitchell could do was follow the boy along the hallway, which was as lavish as the rest of the hotel: gold chandelier, spongy off-white carpet. He knew he’d appreciate it a lot more if his stomach wasn’t doing flips right now.

  The bellboy took Mitchell’s pass, slid it through the scanner and opened the door.

  “Here you are, Mr. Farraday.” He stepped aside and let Mitchell into the suite.

  He whistled as soon as he saw the place. He’d never stayed somewhere this fancy in his life. Mitchell went farther into the room. Full kitchen, mini bar, pool table…you name it. It also had windows that went from top to bottom, with quite the view of the city.

  “If there’s anything else we can do for you, we’re just a phone call away,” said the boy.

  Mitchell pulled out some money and handed it to him. He nodded and then left. All alone, Mitchell walked to the window and then over to the side of the room where a fully stocked bar sat, next to a whirlpool. Mitchell opened a door and saw a king-sized bed with a mirror above it. Was that his or hers or were they both supposed to sleep in it, or have sex in it?

  Mitchell took a deep breath. Ms. Moore still hadn’t arrived, and with any luck she’d gotten cold feet. He’d have the place all to himself. He’d soak in the tub, have a few cold beers, and then watch a couple of movies.

  He spotted a bottle of champagne cooling in a silver bucket and some chocolates sitting on a plate. Next to those was an envelope with his name handwritten on it. Mitchell picked it up and slid his thumb along the top to open it up. He pulled out a sheet of paper, impressed by its quality and the beautiful penmanship. The initials PP were embossed at the top.

  Mitchell,

  Welcome to Perfect Pairing. Your brother tells me you’ve returned from a tour of duty in the armed forces, and let me say how wonderful it is to help someone who has served their country. Your chosen partner is Ms. Moore. Sometimes figuring out whom to pair a client with is a difficult task for me, but not with you. You have been one of my easiest partnerships. I hope that you’ll agree that Ms. Moore is nothing less than perfect for you.

  Have a wonderful time.

  Sadie Sutton-CEO

  “Perfect for me? Well, if she doesn’t want sex and prefers to sit and have a good game of Scrabble or cards then she will be.”

  Now, where was Ms. Moore?

  Chapter Four

  Rachel looked out of the window. Luckily the limo was still in her driveway. Her last patient had been twenty minutes late and she’d driven home well over the speed limit. The driver had been waiting twenty minutes now, so she quickly threw some items into her rolling suitcase. As usual her mother had given her a book on sexual positions and also some orgasm enhancing gel for her, should things progress…and she had every confidence they would. She pushed them to the bottom of the bag, knowing she’d use neither item. At least she wouldn’t be lying when she looked her mother in the eye and told her, yes, she’d taken them along.

  Last item she needed was a blouse to put over her t-shirt. She rummaged through her closet for the white one she’d bought on sale the week before. She slipped it on and headed down the stairs two at a time. Rachel locked the front door and then ran toward the limo, where the driver got out and held the door for her.

  “So sorry I’m late.”

  “No problem, Ms. Moore. Now you sit in there and relax and I’ll get you to the hotel in no time.”

  Rachel slid to the middle of the seat and rested her head back, glad for the dimness and quietness of its interior. It had been a hectic afternoon from the minute she’d stepped into the clinic. She hadn’t even had time for lunch. Not that she’d felt like eating. Her stomach was in knots thinking about meeting this stranger. How would she break the news to him that she really wasn’t interested in a relationship? What if he was angry? Not that she could blame him. After all, he’d paid money for the evening with her. Maybe if she explained that it was her mother and not her who had set the whole thing up, he’d be sympathetic.

  The driver turned the corner sharply and out of nowhere a flurry of glitter fell over her head and shoulders and then another batch fell onto her crotch. She looked up, but there was nothing to be seen other than the roof of the limo. Rachel tried to brush it off her skirt but couldn’t seem to get rid of it. Strangest thing she’d ever seen. She lifted her skirt and shook it, but still the glitter clung to the material. She swiped her hair with her hand and saw her fingers glistening. Maybe it had been up there all the time and she hadn’t noticed it.

  The driver made another sharp turn. He’d had been right when he’d told her he’d have her at the hotel in no time. Rachel peered out of the window. Wow, the whole place looked ritzy to say the least. What she wouldn’t give to stay here all by herself for some R and R.

  The driver opened the door and she slid out. Before she’d had time to say anything, a bellboy had gotten hold of her arm and was whisking her toward the reception area.

  “I’m Rachel Moore with the Perfect Pairing service.”

  Had she blushed when she’d told the woman behind the desk that? “Welcome. Mr. Farraday arrived about forty-five minutes ago.”

  Rachel guessed he was the guy in question.

  “Ms. Sutton told us to make sure you received this.”

  The clerk handed her an envelope with her name handwritten on it. Rachel turned it over, seeing PP printed on the back. She lifted up the flap and pulled out a sheet of paper.

  Rachel.

  A warm welcome to you, and a happy birthday. I hope it will be one that you won’t ever forget. I know you will find Mr. Farraday a most suitable partner. I couldn’t resist pairing you as you are like souls and I hope after this evening that you’ll both agree.

  Have a wonderful time,

  Sadie Sutton-CEO.

  Like souls. How many times had her mother said she wished Rachel could find her soul mate?

  “If you’re ready, Ms. Moore, I can show you up to your room. I’m sure Mr. Farraday is anxious to meet you,” said the bellboy.

  Rachel got on the elevator with him and pressed her butt against the back wall. She wondered if Perfect Pairing used this hotel exclusively. The bellboy turned around at that very minute and smiled at her. Rachel smiled too, wondering if he could read her mind.

  Like souls. Some people, like her mother for example, were just hopeless romantics.

  Rachel hoped that Mr. Farraday wouldn’t be disappointed because she was going to pass on anything that leaned toward the two of them becoming romantically involved. However, if he just wanted a companion for some good conversation over a nice glass of wine, she would be it.

  The dinging sound signaling the elevator had reached the th
irty-fifth floor jarred her out of her present thought. She followed the bellboy along the hallway, only wishing she could get her tiny townhouse to look as lavish as the hallway with its antiques and plush carpet.

  “Here we are, Ms. Moore: your suite, and Mr. Farraday is in the adjoining section, so just knock on the door and once you’ve introduced yourselves you can slide it open to make it one big suite for the evening.”

  Wait a minute, there’s just a partition separating us? Is it too late to run for the elevator?

  The boy smiled again. Yeah, probably too late, so just get it over and done with.

  Rachel handed him some bills and then went into the suite and shut the door.

  She took a deep breath while looking at the partition that divided her and this strange man whose name she didn’t even know until five minutes ago.

  I still don’t know his first name.

  Okay, might as well dive in here. Meet him and let him know ASAP, that sorry, there would be no romance and definitely no sex. Ask for your money back if you like.

  Rachel glanced in the mirror, pushing down the arms on her blouse to make sure they were covered, and then checked her hair. She eased her hands down the front of her skirt to iron out the creases.

  She marched over to the door, wondering what he looked like. She’d soon find out. She lifted her hand and gave two quick taps on the wood. Footsteps sounded on the other side of the door and then it slid open. And there he was.

  She swallowed… almost choked on her own saliva. He was handsome, broad-shouldered and tall with light brown hair and gorgeous blue eyes. She swallowed again at a loss for words. Had her heart missed a beat? No, surely not. She never believed in that sort of crap.

  “You must be Ms. Moore,” he said.

  He held out his hand and she shook it. “I’m Mitchell.” He had a firm grip and looked her straight in the eye.

  “And I’m Rachel. I’m sorry I’m late, but my last patient didn’t show up on time and I couldn’t rush through treatment.”

  I’m rambling and he probably doesn’t care. And why do I care all of a sudden?