turn to look for a wife.”
Wes grunted. “It’s not a written law that twins have to do everything alike, you know.”
The cell phone on Wes’s desk suddenly rang, preventing Adelle from flinging a disapproving remark at him. He picked up the phone to answer the call, but noticed she was already on her way out of the office.
“Just a minute, Adelle.”
Pausing at the door, she glanced back at him. For some odd reason, Wes suddenly wondered how the secretary had looked when she was Vivian’s age. Had she been madly in love with her husband? Or had the guy been like Wes’s father, Gerald? Unworthy of a good woman’s love? What if the dating app led Vivian to such a scoundrel?
“Was there something else?”
Adelle’s question had Wes mentally shaking himself. Vivian’s personal life was no concern of his. If any of her matches turned out to be cads, then that would be her problem.
“Yes, there was. Concerning my self-test of My Perfect Match, you can inform the media outlets I’ll be starting tomorrow. Oh, and you might also relay the message that Vivian will also be using the app—to find her perfect man,” he added drily.
Adelle looked at him with dismay. “Vivian? And you approve of that?”
Wes frowned. “Why would I disapprove?”
“Well, why indeed?” she asked with a smirk. “That sweet little thing thrown out there among all those wolves? I shudder to think who she might get tangled up with.”
Wes found it hard to imagine Vivian getting tangled up in the bedsheets with any man. She was too prim and calculating to have such a reckless encounter. “Believe me, Adelle, sweet little Vivian, as you call her, knows exactly what she’s doing.”
With a roll of her eyes, the secretary left the room, and Wes turned his attention to the phone in his hand. Before he could scroll through the call log, the face lit up with another call.
Seeing it was Ben, he drew in a bracing breath and took a seat. No doubt his twin had already heard about Wes’s declaration to use the dating app and was rolling on the floor with laughter. Well, Ben could do all the goading he wanted, Wes thought as he swiped to answer the call. When all was said and done, presenting his brother with a hefty sales number from My Perfect Match would shut him up.
* * *
When Vivian got back to Research and Development, George and Justine were waiting at her cubicle. From the guarded looks on their faces, she could tell they’d watched the live remote.
Holding up a hand to ward off their remarks, she said, “You don’t have to tell me. I was a complete disaster.”
George gave her a sympathetic pat on the shoulder. “It wasn’t all that bad.”
“Not at all,” Justine chimed in. “And you looked great with your hair like that.”
Vivian shot her a confused look, then quickly patted the top of her hair. “Like what? Is it all mussed up?”
“No,” Justine said with a giggle. “The way it’s tucked behind your ear. Gives you a really chic look.”
Just the thought of Wes’s infuriating remarks had Vivian quickly shaking her hair loose. “My hair was—just a mistake. And my mouth was even worse,” she added with a groan of misery. “Every word that passed my lips made me sound like an idiot! I’ve probably ruined any hope that My Perfect Match will be a big seller.”
“I wouldn’t think that,” George spoke up. “Uh, so what did Mr. Robinson say afterward?”
Before Vivian could answer George’s question, Justine pelted her with another.
“Probably angry, huh?”
Exhaling a long breath, Vivian moved past her coworkers and practically flopped into her desk chair. “Not exactly. I mean, Wes—uh, Mr. Robinson—isn’t the type to show much emotion. Have you two ever seen him angry?”
George and Justine both shook their heads.
Justine said, “We’re not as lucky as you, Viv. We rarely meet with the man.”
“I’m fine not to meet with him,” George put in. “Makes me nervous to have to talk to the boss.”
Justine made a dismissive gesture with her hand. “Technically, he’s not our boss, George.”
“Don’t kid yourself,” George said drily. “You mess up with Wes Robinson and you’ll be outta here.”
“His twin, Ben, is the new COO. And from what I hear, Wes was pretty hacked off that he didn’t get the job.”
Her nerves already frazzled, Vivian massaged the pain gathering in the middle of her forehead. “Justine, please, give it a rest. Anybody in this building with the name Robinson is our boss. Plain and simple. Now if you two will excuse me, I need to get to work.”
“Oh? Orders from our boss?” Justine asked slyly.
Dropping her hand, Vivian looked at her coworkers. She might as well let them in on her plan, she decided. They were going to hear about it sooner or later anyway.
“Not exactly. I’m signing up on My Perfect Match. The quicker, the better.”
“What?” George stared at her with real concern.
Justine giggled. “You? On My Perfect Match? Are you kidding, Viv?”
“Not in the least. Wes is willing to give it a try. So am I.”
The concern on George’s face grew deeper as he walked over to Vivian and looked down at her. “Are you doing this just because he is?”
Was she? When Vivian had first come up with the concept of My Perfect Match, she’d certainly not been creating the app for her own personal use. In spite of everything she’d said to Wes, she still wanted to meet her suitors the old-fashioned way. After that, she’d make the decision whether they were completely compatible or not. But when Wes had insisted he was actually going to use the app, she realized she had to step up to the plate and do the same.
“If a person isn’t willing to use her own product, George, what kind of impression is that going to give the public? I’ve got to show Wes and everyone that I believe in this thing.”
“Good thing you’re not a casket maker,” Justine quipped.
George shot the other woman a tired look, then shook his head at Vivian. “Are you sure you know what you’re doing, Viv?”
To answer his question, Vivian picked up her smartphone and scrolled through the pages of applications until she found My Perfect Match.
“I’ve never been more certain. I’m going to find the man of my dreams. Our likes and dislikes will match precisely. We’ll have no choice but to fall in love and live happily ever after.”
Justine let out a mocking groan. “Oh, please. That’s enough to send me back to work.”
George must have had the same thought because he turned to follow Justine out of the small cubicle.
“What? No words of wisdom from you, George?”
Looking over his shoulder, the burly redhead frowned at her. “All I can say is good luck, Vivian. You’re going to need it.”
Scowling back at him, she asked, “What is that supposed to mean?”
“Just that you’ve set your goals mighty high.”
“Somewhere out there is the man I want to spend the rest of my life with. And My Perfect Match is going to find him for me.”
“Hmm. Well, if that’s the case, then Wes Robinson is going to find the woman he wants to share the rest of his life with. So this app should make you both very happy.”
Happy?