The BACHELORETTE Project (The Project: LESLEE Series)

by Tami Anthony

  The Justin Timberlake lookalike walks up to Jen and smiles. “Hi,” he says to her and she blushes. “I’m Spencer.”

  “I’m Jen,” she replies. “Nice to meet you.”

  “Do you want to play a game of pool?” Spencer asks.

  “I don’t really know how to play,” she responds.

  “I’ll teach you,” he says.

  “OK,” she agrees and she walks with him towards the billiards room. The other women just stare in awe.

  “I can’t believe what just happened,” Vanessa says. “Leslee, you are a genius. You just coached Jen on how to get a man, a good looking man for that matter.”

  I shrug my shoulders. “It’s not that difficult,” I tell her. “You just have to be aware of your surroundings and to know exactly what you want. Granted, I don’t know anything about that guy, but his exterior says a lot about him.”

  “What about me then?” Angelique asks. “Can you find me a man in this room of eligible bachelors?”

  “Hmm …” I think to myself. “I like a challenge. I’m sure I can.” I begin to look around the room for men that would be good matches for Angelique. My eyes lock on a tall, purposefully bald (you know what I mean), thirty-something Puerto Rican male flanked by two of his friends. As he drinks his beer and laughs, I notice the sparkle of a tiny silver ball in his mouth: his tongue ring. Perfect (for her). “Found him,” I say.

  “Good,” Angelique responds. “Where is my perfect man?”

  “Right over there,” I say slightly pointing to the group of men across the room. “The one in the middle.”

  Angelique’s jaw drops. “He is hot,” she blurts out.

  “And he’s kind of a freak, I’m sure,” I tell her. “If you’re anything like your cousin Karen, then this guy is sure to take you places in a sexual way.”

  “How the hell would you even know that?” Karen asks.

  “Easy,” I answer. “He has a tongue ring. You know what they say about people with tongue rings.” Another stereotype, I know, but it can be true.

  “So, what do I do?” Angelique asks. “He’s with his friends.”

  “You go over there and act like you know him,” I say. “You know, pretend you guys went to elementary school together or something, and then get the conversation going that way. After that,” I start, “Vanessa, you’ll go over there and act like you were looking for Angelique, and then you’ll introduce yourself and then you can start talking to the one on the right who, by the way, is equally hot.”

  “What about the other guy?” Vanessa asks. “Won’t he feel left out?”

  I shake my head. “No, because he’s married,” I answer. “See the ring on his finger?” I point to the shiny piece of jewelry on his left hand. “You can acknowledge that he’s there of course and include him in the conversation, but don’t flirt with him or anything. Then you’ll be crossing over to mistress territory and you don’t want that.”

  “True,” Vanessa agrees.

  “OK, so Angelique you can go over now,” I say giving her a little push. For someone as tough as she is, she looks nervous as all hell. She walks over to the small group of men, then turns around to look at us. Turn around! I mouth to her and she does. She begins to talk to the taller guy in the middle and he laughs with her. “That’s your cue, Vanessa,” I say as I give her a little push, too. “Go now.” Vanessa walks over to the group and begins to talk. Soon, it becomes a full-fledged conversation among all of them. Socialization at its best. Those girls better not mess this up, I think to myself. I take a sigh of relief.

  “I cannot believe you just did that,” Karen says to me.

  “Did what?” I ask. “I just helped them out, that’s all.”

  “How do you even know what to do?” Cheyenne inquires.

  “It’s just how you talk to people, that’s all,” I tell her. “Plus, you have to be a good judge of character. It’s always nice to know whether the guy is a complete tool or not. You can tell by the way he acts.”

  “Wow!” Alisha breathes. “Maybe I can trade in my boyfriend for a better model.” We all laugh.

  “There’s nothing wrong with being a little selective,” I tell them. “A woman has got to know what she’s worth, and from what I can tell, you wonderful women deserve the best.”

  “So, what about me then?” Cheyenne asks. “Who are you going to set me up with?”

  “We’ll save you for another day,” I say aloud. “The possibilities are endless.” I wave the bartender over to us. “Bartender, another round please.” When he returns with our drinks we raise our glasses in the air. “Here’s to being fabulous and a wonderful night in wonderful Philadelphia,” I say as we tap our glasses together and we drink to our home city and our wonderfully fabulous lives.

  Chapter Twenty-Two

  “Here are the files you needed and this is your lunch,” I say as I walk into Mr. Kirkpatrick’s office. “You are all ready for court this afternoon.” I smile as he continues to search around his desk. “What are you looking for?”

  He pulls out an engraved metal pen from one of the drawers and lifts it in the air. “I found it!” he announces. “It’s my lucky pen. I’ve had this thing since I was in law school. Is my briefcase packed?”

  “Yup,” I answer. “You are ready to go,” I tell him as I notice his tie is draped around his neck. “One more thing.” I stand in front of him and begin to tie his tie. It’s kind of funny how I’m like his work wife or something. I don’t know what he’d do without me. “There,” I say. “Now you’re ready to go.”

  “Thanks,” he says and I hand him his briefcase, his lunch, and his Blackberry.

  “No problem,” I reply as he walks out of his office. “Good luck today!” I call after him. “Kick some ass!” I breathe a sigh of relief. Finally, he’s ready. David’s been nervous about this trial for the past two weeks. Even though law shouldn’t be considered a game, I really hope he comes out with a win today.

  I begin to clean up the chaos that is Mr. Kirkpatrick’s desk. He has papers sprawled out everywhere and more pens and paperclips that he could use in a lifetime. My boss is not the most organized person on the planet. That’s why he needs a paralegal like me to keep him in line.

  “Was that your boss?” I hear a voice ask. I look up from the desk and see Karen standing in front of me. “Damn, you’re right,” she says. “He’s kinda hot in a young George Clooney kind of way.” Karen looks at the desk and observes the mess. “He’s also kind of dirty, I take it.”

  “Not dirty, just disorganized, and his age would definitely surprise you,” I answer. “What are you doing here?”

  “Well, I was just in the area and I decided to drop by,” she says. “You know, see if you wanted to get lunch or something.” This has to be another trick and I’m not falling for it. It has to be another one of her wedding plan schemes. I’ll play it cool.

  “Where did you want to go?” I ask her.

  “Sushi perhaps?” she suggests and I shrug.

  “No wedding stuff?”

  “No,” Karen answers with a smile on her face. “No wedding stuff, I promise. I have it all planned out anyway. All I have to do now is walk down the aisle and say yes.”

  It seems legit. I was kind of in the mood for some Mix-It Buffalo Chicken Pizza, but I guess I can settle for sushi. “I’ll go and get my purse,” I say as I begin to walk toward the door. Karen stops me.

  “Wait,” she says as she reaches into her purse. “I got you something.” She hands me a small white box with a bow on it. I look at the front of it.

  “Business cards?” I question. “I already have a ton of these in my office.”

  “No,” Karen says. “Read it.”

  I begin to read the front of the box. “Leslee Robinson: Matchmaker Extraordinaire,” I say aloud. “What is this for?”

  “It’s for your matchmaking business,” Karen tells me with stars in her eyes. I shake my head out of confusion.

  “What are you talking
about?” I ask. “I don’t have a matchmaking business.”

  “But you should start one,” Karen tells me. I’m still confused by this. Why would she even think that I’d be interested in such a thing?

  I shake my head. “No,” I answer. “I’m content here. I like my job. Working for Kirkpatrick is great.” I turn around and look at his desk. What a freaking mess. I sigh. “Then again, I didn’t realize that this job had domestic duties attached to it.”

  “You remember, Jen, my friend?” Karen asks. “You know, the model, blonde hair, really tall, gorgeous eyes?”

  “Yeah, and …?”

  “Well that guy you hooked her up with a few weeks ago is in love with her,” she answers, smiling. “LOVE! They talk every single day, they’ve been going out together every other night—”

  “And what does that have to do with me?” I ask. “I just gave her some friendly advice, that’s all.”

  “And then the guy that you found for my cousin.”

  “Angelique is seeing him?” I question.

  “She’s more than just seeing him,” Karen says. “She says that it’s the best sex she’s ever had.”

  I just shake my head. “She’s having sex with him already?” I ask surprisingly. “Damn, that was quick.”

  “And Vanessa is still seeing the guy that you pointed out for her,” Karen informs me. “They’re going on their third date tonight, and you know that if a guy is taking you on a third date, there could be a potential relationship there.”

  I stop and think for a second. Maybe she does have a few good points, but it very well could be a coincidence. To think, I just thought we were playing a very simple man-hunting bar game. I didn’t think it would go this far.

  “And Russ and me,” Karen says. “You set us up in college remember? I kept rejecting him and then you pointed out all the positive things about him and now we’re getting married.”

  “That’s because crazy people bond with crazy people and you both are pretty psychotic,” I answer.

  “Yeah, but if you didn’t say anything, then I would’ve kept rejecting him,” Karen tells me. “Don’t you see it? You have a gift! I mean, you were born on Valentine’s Day. You’re like the modern-day Cupid.”

  I laugh. “I highly doubt that.”

  “You don’t think for a second that the whole Valentine’s Day thing has anything to do with your obvious matchmaking skills?”

  “No,” I answer sullenly. “If that were the case, then every asshole born on that day would be going around shooting arrows at people wanting them to fall in love with each other and that doesn’t happen. You know, I’m pretty sure the whole shooting arrows at people thing is illegal anyway.”

  “Okay,” Karen says. “What about Annie and Xavier then?”

  “I don’t even talk to Annie anymore,” I tell her. “I haven’t spoken to her in months.”

  “You don’t feel as if you subconsciously brought them together?” Karen asks and I shrug my shoulders. “Maybe in your little mind, you saw that he was a good match for her so you took her on the date with you.”

  “OK, now that’s ridiculous. Why would I do that?”

  Karen nods her head slowly. “Subconsciously you brought them together and that’s why you were talking to him for so long, to see if they were a good match, not if you were a good match for him. Maybe it was a sign … from Cupid.”

  “Karen,” I start, “That is the dumbest thing I’ve ever heard in my life.”

  “But it’s true, isn’t it?” she asks and I just shake my head. Maybe it is a little true. I mean, I do see why they would be good together and why Xavier is so much better for her than me, but I just assumed that it was a big mistake having them meet each other. Was it a mistake or did I really subconsciously hook them up?

  I can hear my cell phone ringing in the next room. “I’ll be right back,” I tell Karen as I walk out of David’s office and retrieve my phone off of my desk. I answer. “Hello?”

  “Leslee?” I hear a woman say over the phone.

  “Yes, this is she,” I say. “Can I ask who I’m speaking with?”

  “It’s Selena,” she tells me. “From Lonely Hearts.” Oh, God! I think to myself. If she even thinks about hooking me up with another convict, she can just forget it. I’ve learned my lesson.

  “Um, hi?” I say, unsure of where this conversation will go. “I’m not really interested in meeting any of your clients right now,” I tell her. “I’m actually kinda happy by myself, but I’ll pass your name onto—”

  “Oh, no,” she says. “It’s not that at all.” Selena lightly breathes into the phone and then begins to cry. I don’t even have to say anything to people and I make them cry? First, I’m Cupid, and now I’m Lucifer reincarnated as a paralegal fashionista. Typical Leslee shenanigans.

  “Um, what’s wrong, Selena?” I ask. “Why are you crying?”

  “Can you meet me in my office right now?” she asks through sobs. “I really need to talk to someone, someone that can understand me.” How in the world can I understand this woman? If my memory stands correct, she has the perfect life compared to mine.

  “I was actually about to go to lunch with a friend, but—” The sobs increase in volume. I sigh. “OK, OK,” I tell her. “I’ll be over there in ten minutes.” I hang up the phone and walk back into David’s office. The look of shock on my face must say it all.

  “Who was that?” Karen asks.

  “The woman who owns Lonely Hearts Matchmaking,” I answer. Karen rolls her eyes.

  “What the hell did she want? To match you up with O.J Simpson? Hannibal Lector?” Karen asks sarcastically. “Because if she does, I can’t guarantee that I can save you from that.”

  “No, she’s not setting me up with anyone,” I reply.

  “Well, what did she want?”

  I shrug my shoulders. “I honestly don’t know.”

  ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

  “Oh my God,” I say as Karen and I enter Selena’s office walking over broken glass and her office supplies scattered on the floor. “What the hell happened to this place?”

  “Maybe she was robbed,” Karen suggests and I nod my head slowly. “Or maybe a disgruntled client was pissed off because she hooked them up with a convicted felon, too.” My mouth drops as I look over at Karen. “Don’t look at me like that. You know that you were thinking it, too.” Sadly, Karen is right. It could be anything at this point.

  “Selena?” I call out. “Are you here?”

  An intoxicated Selena stumbles out of the back room with a bottle of champagne in her hand. She takes a hearty chug of her alcohol and laughs. Selena swings out her arms. “Hello, Leslee!” she shouts. “Welcome to my new office. I’m redecorating!” She picks up a vase of roses from the receptionist desk and throws it on the floor. She laughs at the sight of it as the broken glass scatters throughout the room. I haven’t figured out if I should run away or not. I don’t want to be another accessory of a crime I didn’t commit.

  “Selena, what is it you’re doing exactly?” I ask. “I mean, besides throwing things on the floor?”

  Selena cackles loudly. “I’m having a party!” she yells. “Can’t you tell?”

  Karen leans in close to me and grabs my arm tightly. “What the fuck kind of party is this woman having?” Karen whispers to me. “There are no people here and her office looks like shit.” Stunned at the sight of the place, I really can’t even answer that. “Do you think she’s going to kill us?”

  I shrug my shoulders. “I think she’s going crazy, that’s all,” I say nervously. “Nothing to worry about.” I walk up to Selena and take the champagne out of her hand. She begins to pout. “Selena, what is going on?” I ask. “And why did you call me over here?”

  “Because you were right, Leslee,” she says as she plops into a waiting room chair. “You were right about everything. You were right about my engagement, you were right about me looking for a father figure in my life, and now I’m finally seeing it all.”
Selena begins to cry and I walk over to her to console her. “I called off my engagement,” she blurts out. “I am no longer with the old man, and I have you to thank for it.”

  Oh, crap. I think to myself. Why do I have to have such a big mouth? Why am I always giving people my opinion on things that really aren’t my business? Now I’ve just ruined an engagement. I’m a life ruiner; it’s official. Stupid psychology minor.

  “Selena, why would you call off your engagement?” I ask her. I bet it had something to do with his hot, old, sweaty balls. That’d be a turn off for me completely.

  “He was never right for me,” Selena says through tears. “He was a father figure to me and I was going to marry him. I’m so stupid.”

  “You are not stupid,” I assure her as I rub her back. Karen just shakes her head.

  “No, she is stupid,” Karen chimes in as she looks around the room. “Look at what she did to her office. It’s like Hurricane Selena in here.”

  “I never got the chance to live my life,” Selena tells me and I nod my head. “There’s so many things that I want to do and I never did them because there was always someone in my life telling me what to do. I hate it.”

  “It’s OK,” I tell her. “That happens. It’s just a part of life.”

  “Not anymore it isn’t,” Selena says as she rises from her seat to the receptionist desk. She pulls out a brochure, hands it to me, and smiles. “That’s why I’m going to travel the world, starting with India.”

  “You’re going to India?” I question.

  “Well,” Selena starts, “I’ll start out there and then I’ll go to China, then I’ll go to England, then after that, who knows.” She picks up a lamp and throws it on the floor. “I always hated that lamp.”

  “What are you going to do about your business then?” I ask.

  “I don’t know,” she answers. “Maybe I’ll sell it or close it down.”