Dream Date with the Millionaire. Melissa McClone

sounds so familiar. I watched out for my three little sisters, even though there were days I wanted to kill them. But I knew if I did that it would destroy my mother so I controlled myself.”

      He grinned. “I’m sure three younger sisters were much worse than one.”

      “Especially trying to get ready for school with only one bathroom for the four of us.”

      “Catfights?”

      “Every day.” She laughed. “How about with your sister?”

      “She’s one of my best friends, even though I still watch out for her.”

      “Lucky girl.”

      “She might disagree about that.” Though Caitlin’s luck had changed for the better. Contentment settled in the center of Bryce’s chest. “She recently got engaged to a man she met on Blinddatebrides.com.”

      “That’s exciting news.”

      “Very.” He smiled, thinking about Caitlin, all bubbly and glowing, showing off her diamond engagement ring. She’d thanked him for creating the Web site where she’d met her fiancé. That moment had made all his work, the sleepless nights and constant fires needing dousing, worth it. “My sister and her fiancé prove the matchmaking algorithm works, since that’s how they found each other.”

      Sanfrandani set her fork on the plate. “You believe the algorithm actually works?”

      He understood the doubt in her voice. Turning matters of the heart over to a machine wasn’t easy. “I do. Relying on the program is the easiest and smartest way to find a compatible date.”

      “It’s difficult for me to accept a computer could do a better job picking a date for me than I could.”

      “Is that why you haven’t gone out with anyone before?” he asked.

      “It didn’t seem right.”

      Her response set off warning bells in Bryce’s head. “Right?”

      “The right time,” she clarified. “But the compatibility program did work for a friend of mine who lives in London. They are married and expecting a baby.”

      “I’ll have to tell my sister. She wants everyone to be as happy as she is.”

      “I have two friends like that. The one with the baby on the way and another who is engaged. I met both on the Web site,” Sanfrandani said. “They’re always pushing me to go out more. They mean well, but the…”

      “Pressure.”

      “Exactly.” She drank her coffee, seeming completely at ease. “Luckily, my mother doesn’t care if I get married or not.”

      “She’s not on the grandma track, then.”

      “Not at all. The only thing she wants is for me and my three sisters to pursue our passions and follow our dreams, whatever they may be.”

      Bryce wondered what her dreams entailed. “She sounds like a great mom.”

      “My mom’s the best. My hero.” Sanfrandani’s eyes softened, as did the tone of her voice. “She raised us on her own. We didn’t always have a place to sleep at night, but we always had food to eat and we knew we were loved. No matter what was going on, there was always more than enough love.”

      Her words squeezed Bryce’s heart. No place to sleep sounded like she’d been homeless at times. No one should have to go through that, especially an innocent child. Maybe her background explained the way she acted and her ambivalence about dressing nice for their date.

      He thought about his silver spoon upbringing—the overabundance of toys and clothes, the mansion and vacation homes, the revolving door of stepparents and the trust fund he’d never touched. His parents loved him, but they were so busy with their own lives and marriages, they’d often left him and Caitlin in the care of nannies. He couldn’t say more than enough love existed at his house. Houses. “Sounds like you still had everything you needed in spite of the tough times.”

      “I didn’t think so then, but growing up like that made me stronger, more determined.”

      “To do what?”

      “Succeed. Make it on my own. Show the world I’m more than what they think I am.” She raised her chin, then looked down. “Sorry, that probably sounds arrogant.”

      “No. Not at all.” Even though the two of them came from different worlds, Bryce understood because he felt the same way. That was why he’d taken a job as a Web developer. He’d wanted to make it on his own terms. Not live off the rewards of his great-grandfather’s real estate foresight over a hundred years ago. “It’s important to make it on your own, especially if people said you couldn’t.”

      She reached across the table and touched his hand. “You get it.”

      He nodded, trying not to stare at her hand. Dani’s gesture was friendly, not sexual, but he enjoyed the feel of her soft skin against his. She pulled her hand back. He missed her warmth.

      “I want to buy my mom a house. Nothing fancy, maybe a white picket fence. Just someplace that belongs to her. We never really had that. A home of our own.”

      “A worthy goal.”

      She nodded. “Something to work toward, that’s for sure.”

      Sanfrandani seemed nice. She was close to her family, funny and intelligent. A guy could do a lot worse. But he couldn’t forget why he was here.

      I’m a spy.

      Bryce straightened. He needed to figure out what she’d meant by that. Spying didn’t always mean espionage. She might have joined the site to spy on a crush, a boyfriend or an ex.

      “Why haven’t you gone on more dates?” He wanted some answers. “Did you try using the compatibility matching program? The questionnaire seems thorough enough.”

      “Oh, it was thorough all right.” Her mouth quirked. “That stupid thing took forever to fill out, with all its nitpicky and redundant questions.”

      He’d heard the criticism before, but the questionnaire was far from stupid. “The time you spend pays out in the end.”

      “Let’s be real.” She leaned toward him. “How do you know someone else is going to fill it out as carefully as you did? They might choose an answer they think someone might want to hear.”

      “That’s built into the algorithm and the reason for so many questions, even redundant ones. To get to the bottom of what a person needs in a relationship and a mate. Not what they think they need.”

      “You seem to know a lot about it.”

      “I work with computers,” he admitted, waiting for questions to follow. So many people worked with computers in the Bay Area, yet some women wanted to know more—where do you work, what’s your title, do you get stock options?—in order to gauge future earning potential.

      “Poor you.” She poked her fork into her waffle and swallowed a bite.

      Was Sanfrandani really disinterested in him or playing hard to get? Maybe she was just hungry. That waffle looked good.

      “I like computers,” he said. “And with anything Internet based, there’s an element of trust involved.”