Her Perfect Man- The Complete Series Box Set

by Z. L. Arkadie

  “Yep, I’m still here,” Gina says.

  I look away from Valentine.

  “Still haven’t passed the bar?” he says.

  Gina bats her eyelashes at him. “Maybe if I had a little personal tutoring.”

  My jaw hits the floor, and I kick her in the shin under the table.

  “Oh.” She reaches down to rub her leg.

  He chuckles nervously. I just know he’s looking at me, but I refuse to look at him.

  “Well, if you need some help, email me. I can direct you to some excellent study centers,” he says.

  “If one cold night I find myself in need, I will definitely shoot you an email,” Gina says, batting her eyelashes again.

  I can’t believe her. I gnaw nervously on my lip. She’s embarrassing the hell out of me.

  Professor Valentine clears his throat. “Right, well, nice seeing you, Gina. And good seeing you again too, Naomi.”

  I want to hyperventilate, but I control my breathing, and I look up slowly. Our gazes meet. His eyes are so soft.

  I gulp. “Hi. I mean, nice seeing you too—again.” I look away while scratching my scalp.

  I can’t believe I let Gina get into my head. Silly me. She thinks every guy who pays me a little attention wants to do me. I happen to look at Professor Valentine one more time before he leaves, and I’m almost positive he shoots me a quick smile, although I can’t confirm it.

  Gina leans across the table. “He definitely wants to get in your pants.” She falls back in her seat and shakes her head as if she can hardly believe it. “Well, congratulations, girlfriend. Many have tried to do the dirty deed with him, including moi, but all have failed except for you.”

  I roll my eyes dismissively. “You were embarrassing,” I scold.

  She smiles, pleased with herself. “Your skin is red.”

  “Because you embarrassed me, and not to mention you threw me under the bus.”

  She grunts, feigning frustration. “Oh, come on, don’t play stupid. You know he wants to do you. You’re just afraid because of your limited experience.”

  I roll my eyes and shake my head. “That’s not it, and I’m not that inexperienced. Granted, Valentine is hot, but every single chick in our department has tried to seduce him, but he’s never let them. So why would he budge for me?”

  “Because.”

  “Because why?”

  “Because you’re not pursuing him.”

  “Huh?” I’m utterly confused.

  “You got one minute!” Randy yells from behind the counter.

  Gina turns around to glare at him. They bicker a lot. He’s the only truly cute guy on the planet that Gina thinks looks like a troll. I think he resembles Clark Kent. I’d go out with him if he asked, but he never has.

  He stops scowling at our table to take Professor Valentine’s order. I’m so glad Valentine is keeping his back to us.

  “What a dick,” Gina says. “How did I end up in this shithole anyway?”

  “You could always just pass the bar,” I say.

  Gina snorts. “Now there’s your cynical alter ego that I love and sometimes worship.”

  “Yeah! You brought her out because you just threw me under the bus,” I repeat.

  She waves a hand dismissively. “Oh, get over it, and take him up on those private lessons already.”

  It takes me a moment to remember what she’s referring to. “Oh, right. I’ll see.”

  “Oh, stop pretending. You’re not going to defy Dick Sutters.”

  “Time’s up!” Randy yells.

  “Wait a second,” Gina yells over her shoulder. “What a dick. I can’t wait to take the bar next week.”

  “Yeah, well, I heard the fourth time’s the charm,” I say.

  She slides out of the booth. “Okay. Time to turn Cynical Naomi Barbie off.”

  I chuckle. “Love you.”

  “That’s better.” She shakes her finger at me as she walks backward toward the front. “You just better figure out how to tell the Dick, the biggest lawyer in town, that you’re planning on becoming an eleventh-hour law school drop-out.”

  I widen my eyes in warning. Everybody heard that. Now I look like a loser. On top of that, Professor Valentine has finally turned around and is looking at me with narrowed eyes.

  “Whatever. I’m leaving,” I say to Gina. I’m feeling flushed, so I grab my bag and keys and scoot out of the booth.

  I think Gina says something about calling me later, but I’m not paying attention to her. All I want to do is escape that look the sexy professor is giving me. As soon as I’m out of the café, I run across the parking lot. It’s raining hard, and by the time I take the driver’s seat, I’m drenched.

  “Shit,” I say under my breath as I pull out of the parking space and make a right turn onto the street.

  Shit for a lot of reasons. Shit that Gina embarrassed the heck out of me in front of the most gorgeous man in the world. Shit that even with Valentine’s offer, I think I’m way too behind to catch up this semester, and I don’t think I really want to try. It was Elena’s idea to take that class in the first place. She was one of the many starry-eyed girls with a crush on the professor, and she had sort of convinced me that taking Policies and Principles of International Trade and Law would give me some options. She knew that deep down, I hated the idea of working at Sutters, Bell, and Ashton, my father’s law firm. They specialize in domestic business law.

  My dad’s a tough guy. Ever since my mom died, something shifted in our relationship, and I can’t quite put my finger on it. I know he loves me, and I love him too, but when law school is over, I finally want to get a reprieve from the perpetual awkwardness between us.

  3

  I get home and walk by Elena’s room. It’s heart-wrenching. Her parents said they were coming to get her things this weekend, so I promised to have it all boxed up for them. I’ll do it tonight when I get home from dinner at Dad’s. I stop at her desk, which is on the opposite side of the room from the door, and look at a picture of her and me at our college graduation. We’re both in our caps and gowns. It was a happy day indeed, especially since we knew that we didn’t have to part ways. The next big step we would make together was law school!

  I leave her room and focus on getting ready for dinner in order to keep myself from falling apart. That photo brought back some good memories but also some painful feelings.

  It’s been four weeks since my last Friday dinner with Dad. The last time, his new girlfriend, Alice, joined us. They had been dating for five months, but that was the first time I met her. He’s only dated a couple of women since my mom died from ovarian cancer ten years ago, but Alice is the first one he’s introduced to me.

  Friday night dinners have always been a formal affair. Sometimes he’ll have colleagues dine with us. I’d rather throw on a warm sweater, jeans, and shearling boots, but I opt for a beige dress, black boots, and my ankle-length trench coat. I check the mirror to make sure I look conservative enough. My hair is cascading around my shoulders. Just for a second, I consider leaving it this way, but my dad is more satisfied when I look the part. I quickly brush my hair into a ponytail, making sure not a strand is out of control, grab my purse, and hit the road.

  I’m anxious during the entire drive to my father’s house. He lives in the Caspian neighborhood right on the edge of Minneapolis, Minnesota. It’s about a seven-mile drive from where I live. The wind is blowing so hard that the tops of the trees are bending. Rain pounds my windows, but my windshield wipers are doing an excellent job of keeping the road visible. It already feels as though it’s going to be a long, boring evening.

  I pull into one of the garage stalls at the back of the house, grab my umbrella, and rush out of the car. I walk quickly to the front porch. Dick will lecture me on how I’ll ruin the polish on the Carrara white marble floor if I show up at the door wet. I’ve always believed he laid the tile in the main walkway just so everyone who enters the house knows that him being in charge starts righ
t here and right now.

  I ring the doorbell to announce I’m here, then I use my key to unlock the door. Two things I notice when I walk in: Billie Holiday’s voice gently fills the air, and I’m standing on ceramic tile. The color is burnt orange, which I don’t think is my dad’s taste. I blink to make sure I’m not dreaming. I’m at the right house. My key surely couldn’t open the neighbor’s door.

  I take off my coat. “Dad, I’m here,” I call.

  I hear approaching footsteps. “You made it?”

  I turn to face him and flinch, taken aback by the sight. He’s wearing a burgundy velour tracksuit and black leather tennis shoes with a white stripe on the side.

  I sniff the air. I smell food, but he’s not dressed for dinner. Heck, he isn’t dressed in anything the man who raised me would wear in or out of the house. “Are we still having dinner tonight?”

  “Of course. Alice cooked blackened salmon and orange-glazed spinach.”

  “Oh… no Chef Tanner?” Which shocks the hell out of me. Chris Tanner has been cooking Friday dinners since even before my mother died, and my dad has always maintained the routines and customs he and Mom created together.

  Dick smiles, and it’s the genuine, toothy kind. “Alice wanted to handle it.”

  So he let her? That’s different.

  I point at the floor. “And what happened to your marble tile?”

  He looks down. “We took it out.”

  “We?” I say, surprised.

  “Alice slipped after that hard rain two weeks ago”—I follow him down the corridor that leads to the dining room—“and sprained her wrist.”

  A number of thoughts collide in my brain. I’ve nearly slipped on that floor a few dozen times, and he never felt the need to change out that overrated, inconvenient tile for me. I’m still distracted by my thoughts as we walk into the dining room. Dick is saying something about buying a cabin in Aspen.

  “Hi, Naomi!” Alice says as she dashes in from the kitchen. Her black hair is pinned up above the nape of her neck, showing off her graceful collarbone. One look and I can see why she’s had the power to persuade my father to get rid of his prized white marble tile.

  “Hi, Alice,” I say.

  She spreads her hands to showcase the table. “I picked up the napkins at an estate sale.”

  The table is set with delicate white porcelain plates outlined in gold and gold flatware on top of a silky gold tablecloth. The napkins, white with a print of tiny pink and gold flowers, are a fine touch, and each place setting has two stemmed glasses beside it—one is already filled with water and the other with champagne.

  “I hope you like everything,” Alice says.

  I look at her. I can see by her expression and the timid way she’s holding her shoulders that she very much needs my approval.

  I smile, and it’s not forced. “Great. The table looks like a masterpiece, and the food smells really good.”

  Her smile broadens. “Thanks! That was the goal.”

  I study how my dad watches her as she scampers back into the kitchen. The only other woman I’ve seen him look at that way was my mom.

  Fifteen minutes later, we’re sitting around the table, eating dinner. The conversation has turned to talking about the chateau my dad just bought in Aspen.

  “It’s right on the mountain. You’ll like it. She’ll like it, won’t she, Richard?” Alice says.

  “Yes, she will,” my dad says.

  I notice how comfy he looks, slouched in his seat. He might as well be in a smoking jacket while petting a white kitty or something. It’s so strange seeing him this way. He’s like a whole new man.

  “It has its own chairlift in the backyard that goes right up the mountain. Do you ski, Naomi?”

  I open my mouth to speak.

  “She skis,” my dad says. “She won the high mountain gold back in...” He narrows an eye thoughtfully.

  So much is occurring under the surface. Since I got here, my dad has gazed at Alice as if he’s lost in her every word. He hasn’t yet given me the third degree about how classes are going, nor has he reminded me that my next step after graduation is to be a first-year associate at his firm.

  “Two thousand five,” I say.

  He shakes his finger. “That’s it.”

  “It was the year…” I start to say, then something catches my attention.

  In the living room, along the wall with the wainscoting, the large bouquet of silk flowers that has been sitting in that corner for years is missing. It has been replaced by a beautiful array of purple lilies, real ones. Alice and my dad are waiting for me to finish what I was going to say. I mean, does he even remember that I won that trophy two months before mom died?

  Then I look into Alice’s eyes. She’s done a fine job of making sure I’m comfortable tonight, and I don’t want to destroy the mood.

  “It was the first and last year I competed. My friend Elena…” I close my eyes and take a deep breath.

  “How have you been since the funeral?” my dad asks.

  I’m shocked. I called him the day after Elena died, crying, and all he said was, “These things happen. Don’t let it derail you.” Which basically meant, “Toughen up and stay on the lawyer track.”

  “I’ve been fine,” I say, choosing to lie.

  He studies me with narrowed eyes while nodding thoughtfully. It’s strange, because he never cared to take the time to see whether or not he could see through my bullshit, and I think that’s exactly what he’s doing right now.

  I shift nervously in my seat.

  Alice’s gaze caresses my face sympathetically. “It’ll be okay, darling. All you have to do is remember the great times, and even the bad ones, you had with your loved ones. I heard she was your best friend?”

  “Yes,” I barely say and try not to glance at my dad. I want to cry, but if I do, I’ll let him down.

  Alice reaches out to take my hand. At first, I hesitate, and then I put my hand in hers.

  “It’s going to be okay, darling.” Her smile beams like a field of sunflowers in the daylight.

  I turn to look at my dad, and he’s watching us with ruffled brows. I wonder what he’s thinking. Then Alice faces him with that same smile she’s showing me, and slowly he forms one of his own.

  “Well…” My dad clears his throat and wipes his mouth. “I’ll go get the pie.”

  “It’s in the refrigerator on the second shelf,” Alice says as she lets go of my hand.

  I study her as she watches my dad walk to the kitchen. Strange—there are signs of lust in her eyes.

  “So…” She faces me again. “How old are you again?”

  I’m caught off guard by her question. “Um, twenty-four.”

  She presses her lips together. “Humph.”

  I narrow an eye inquisitively. “What is it?”

  “I told Richard that I want you to meet my brother. He’s also a great skier. Cute too, but I think you may be too young for him.”

  My thoughts go back to how especially tasty Professor Valentine looked in the café earlier. Oh no… I catch myself, surprised. I’m lusting after him. I try to banish the way his crotch looked right in front of my face. I don’t know enough about Valentine to lust over him, other than he’s a pretty good professor.

  Alice snaps her fingers. “Oh, Naomi,” she sings.

  I shake myself out of a stupor.

  “Where did you go?” she asks.

  I roll my eyes and snort. “Somewhere I shouldn’t be.”

  She laughs. “Been there before.”

  My dad returns with the pie, and for the first time ever, Friday dinner is an event I’m not itching to escape. Dick and Alice are leaving again for Aspen tomorrow. They want to seal the deal on that mountain home before someone buys it out from under them. I learn that Alice has been an interior designer in Seattle for twenty years. She was married for thirty years, and her husband died the same year my mother died. The whole night, I listen to my dad and his girlfriend finish eac
h other’s sentences then retell a story as a team. It’s strange to see him so connected with someone. I’m not sure how to process it. However, with every passing moment, I’m falling for Alice more and more.

  Four hours later, I open my car door. Alice and my dad are on the porch, making sure I get into my car safely. I get in, turn on the engine, and wave at them. They wave back, then Dick puts an arm around Alice’s waist, and they walk back into the house.

  I sit and look at the door for a while. I only thought about Elena once tonight, and that’s when my dad mentioned her. Suddenly the night’s ending overtakes me. I’m on my way back to our apartment to pack Elena’s things. I’m not over her death, but seeing how Alice has breathed new life into my dad has given me hope that one day, I’ll be fine.

  I sigh.

  Maybe I should take Professor Valentine up on his offer. I close my eyes, and his crotch bombards my thoughts again. I grit my teeth and growl as loud as I can.

  “Bad thoughts, Nom,” I say.

  I back out of the driveway. Maybe it’s best to drop Valentine’s class and figure out how to make it up at a later date. Heck, thanks to Alice, my dad probably won’t burst a vein in his neck when he finds out I dropped the class and delayed my graduation date.

  I grin. The pressure’s off. Thanks to Alice, I’m free!

  4

  As soon as I get home, I take off the dress and put on my flannel pajama set. I’m too tired to pack up Elena’s things. I’ll do it in the morning. However, I’m still toying with the idea of dropping Professor Valentine’s class—especially after Gina embarrassed me in front of him this afternoon. Goodness gracious, he probably thinks I’m just another shameless, lust-struck student.

  I yawn, go to my desk, and flip open my computer. Before I allow my fingers to direct me to the registrar’s office, I check my email. One message gets my attention.

  I gasp. “Professor Valentine,” I say, reading the name.

  My heart beats faster. The message was sent about three hours ago.