Page 4 of No Mane, No Gain
Nicholas leaned forward, his eyes narrowing. “And who exactly is this person you’re ‘talking to’? Do we know him?”
Olive shrugged, aiming for nonchalance despite the nervous flutter in her stomach. “It’s still new. I’d rather not jinx it by saying too much. But trust me, he’s... quite something.”
“Olive,” her father’s voice took on a warning tone. “You can’t just throw away years of planning on some flight of fancy.”
“It’s not a flight of fancy, Dad,” Olive retorted. “It’s my life. My future. And I intend to have a say in it.”
Sapphire, bless her, chose that moment to intervene. “Who wants dessert? I made tiramisu.”
The rest of the evening passed in a blur of stilted conversation and meaningful glances. By the time Olive was saying her good-byes, she felt emotionally drained but oddly exhilarated. She had stood her ground, even if it meant threatening to date the undead.
As she hugged Sapphire, her sister whispered in her ear, “A paranormal dating agency? Really?”
Olive pulled back with a wink. “Hey, desperate times call for desperate measures. Besides, can you imagine Dad’s face if I brought home a vampire?”
Sapphire shook her head, a reluctant smile tugging at her lips. “You’re incorrigible. Just... be careful, okay?”
“Always am,” Olive promised, though they both knew that wasn’t entirely true.
The drive back to her apartment was quiet, allowing Olive’s mind to wander. Had she really just declared her intention to try paranormal dating to her entire family? Over lasagna and tiramisu, no less? It was absurd, and yet... oddly liberating.
As she pulled into her parking spot, a plan began to form in her mind. If her parents wanted her to find a husband so badly, she’d give them exactly what they asked for – just not in the way they expected.
Back in her apartment, Olive kicked off her heels and headed straight for her laptop. Her fingers hovered over the keyboard for a moment before she decisively typed: “Gerri Wilder Paranormal Dating Agency.”
The search results popped up, and Olive’s eyes widened. There were testimonials, success stories, even a few news articles about unlikely couples finding true love. It all seemed too fantastical to be real, and yet...
Before she could talk herself out of it, Olive clicked on the “Contact Us” link and began typing an email.
“Dear Ms. Wilder,
My name is Olive Russo, and I’m in desperate need of your services. My parents have arranged a marriage for me, but I believe there’s someone out there who’s truly perfect for me – even if they might not be entirely human.
I know this might sound crazy, but I’m willing to keep an open mind. After all, love comes in all shapes, sizes, and species, right?
I look forward to hearing from you.
Sincerely, A pretty desperate Olive Russo P.S. If you happen to have any eligible dragon shifters on your books, I wouldn’t be opposed. I’ve always wanted to fly.”
Olive hitsendbefore she could second-guess herself. As soon as the email whooshed off into cyberspace, a mix of excitement and trepidation washed over her. What had she just done?
With a shake of her head, Olive stood and headed to her bedroom. Whatever came of this, it was bound to be an adventure. And if nothing else, it would make for one hell of a vlog series.
As she changed into her silk pajamas, Olive caught sight of her reflection in the mirror. Her cheeks were flushed and her eyes were bright with anticipation. For the first time in a long while, she felt truly alive.
“Well, Olive,” she said to her reflection, “looks like you’re about to find out if there really are monsters under the bed. Here’s hoping they’re the sexy kind.”
With a laugh, she crawled into bed, her mind swirling with possibilities. Vampires, werewolves, dragons – oh my! As she drifted off to sleep, Olive couldn’t help but wonder what Gerri Wilder would make of her request.
In the dark of night, as Olive dreamed of brooding vampires and smoldering werewolves, the wheels of fate had already begun to turn. Somewhere out there, her perfect match was waiting – fangs, fur, or otherwise. And Gerri Wilder was just the woman to bring them together.
TWO
Olive sprawled across her plush white couch, absently flipping through a romance novel. The late afternoon sun streamed through the floor-to-ceiling windows of her Manhattan penthouse, casting a warm glow over the stylish space. She sighed, tossing the book aside. Even the most swoon-worthy fictional heroes seemed to fall flat lately.
Her phone buzzed on the glass coffee table. Olive glanced at the screen, frowning at the unknown number. After a moment’s hesitation, she swiped to answer.
“Hello?”