couldn’t admit that. It would prove Katrina and her mom right. “Yeah, what she said,” she confirmed grudgingly.
“On it. Peace.” Lakshmi hung up.
Katrina crossed her arms over her chest. “I don’t like that look on your face one bit.”
Rhiannon opened her eyes very wide, giving her best impression of what innocence might look like. “What? You wanted me to talk to him.”
“Not to use him, Rhi,” Katrina snapped. “Why are you so obsessed with buying Matchmaker anyway? I mean, I know buying your competitor and shutting them down is a time-honored technique to grab market share, but is it really necessary?”
“It’s necessary.”
“Explain.”
Filled with restless energy, Rhiannon got up to pace the room. “What happens whenever there’s progress? Backlash. It is progress that you can find someone to have a drink with from your phone. That’s true. And it’s also true that people long for what they thought they had before. I heard it at that conference, the rumblings getting louder. If we buy Matchmaker, we don’t just buy their data and their infrastructure. We buy their name. Their respect. We modernize it a little, make it more mobile friendly, and then keep it as another option for our users. Crush for now. Matchmaker for forever.”
“Damn.” Katrina narrowed her eyes. “That’s a slogan.”
“It is.” Rhiannon grinned, a little reckless. But most importantly, she felt strong again. Yes, finally. She had a good reason, a strong reason to see Samson again, one that had nothing to do with her feelings or their history.
Phew. A girl could only deal with her emotions so much.
“Matchmaker is our insurance against a backlash. We can stay on top, even if everyone decides to delete Crush tomorrow and try a method for love that doesn’t include their phones. Sure, maybe they’ll go to the bar or the grocery store. But more likely, they’ll go back to their computers.”
Katrina steepled her hands under her chin. “Does this have something to do with Peter?”
Ouch. Couldn’t hide anything from her best friend. “This has to do with success.” If that success was also about revenge, well. Rhiannon couldn’t help that. “I’ll talk to Samson. Listen to him, talk to him, get my closure.” Rhiannon shrugged. “And then, I’ll ask him for a favor.” When he was feeling bad.
Katrina looked straight-up worried now. “This feels manipulative. It’s not the reason I thought you should see him.”
“I’ll only ask. Nothing more. It’ll be a nice, direct, closure-heavy conversation. And then I’m done with him.” What she didn’t say, what she was thinking, was that yeah, Samson fucking owed her. If he was as nice as she’d originally thought he was, then he’d feel the same way.
And if it was manipulative to introduce a request when a person felt like they owed a person, well then, yes, she was being manipulative. Sue her.
“Well, you don’t have to be done—”
There was that hope again, that malicious hope. Actively seeking out someone who had ghosted her was already borderline foolish, only acceptable because she had hard evidence to back up the excuse he’d inevitably give her. Getting back into bed with a zombie? That was inexcusable, given all that she knew about the dating world. Rhiannon slashed her hand across her throat. “Then I’m done.”
Chapter Seven
SAMSON?”
Samson shook his head and refocused on the young blonde sitting at his dining table. Tina was a sweet girl and had been his aunt Belle’s admin since she’d graduated from college a few years ago. Her bubbly and cheerful personality was the last thing he needed right now. “Sorry. What’s that?”
“No need to apologize!” She gestured at the open laptop screen in front of her. “I know you have company coming over soon, but I thought we could go through your next batch of matches while we have a minute.”
He put down the knife he was using to slice salami and rinsed his hands. “Ah, sure. Are you certain you don’t want a snack, though?”
Tina blew her bangs out of her face. Wearing her casual uniform of jeans and a loose T-shirt, with her legs curled under her on the padded dining table chair, her shoes kicked off under the table, she looked about eighteen. “You’re so cute. No, thanks, I’m fine.”
He wasn’t cute. Samson just wanted to delay this as much as possible. Also, he was his mother’s son. He may be out of practice having people in his house, but he didn’t know how to have someone over and not feed them.