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Marrying Mister Perfect

Page 9

by Lizzie Shane


  “Then I guess the thought of Jack sipping champagne in a Jacuzzi with some sexified Suitorette doesn’t bother you at all.”

  Lou felt nauseated.

  “That’s what I thought,” Kelly said smugly, correctly reading the expression on her face.

  Lou licked the fudge. She needed all the consolation she could get. “I feel like the first wife being replaced by a young, sexy mistress. I’m the mom. I’m practically the wife, but I never got to be the lover. And now I’m being evicted from my position as wife and mom and I don’t even have justification to protest. He can just yank my life right out from under me, take the kids, the house, and everything I’ve been for the last four years and hand it someone else and I can’t say a word. It’s not like I have any claim on them. He’s not my husband. They aren’t my kids.”

  “Yes, they are,” Kelly insisted staunchly. “You’re a better mom than half the biological incubators I know. And your life isn’t going anywhere. We aren’t going to let that happen.”

  “I don’t see a way to stop it.”

  “That’s because you’re overlooking The Plan. Trust Kelly, baby. I’ll take care of you.”

  “I can’t compete with a swimsuit model, Kel. No one can.”

  “You love him. And what’s more, he loves you. That’s a huge advantage right there. I know, I know, it’s just friend-love. For now. That’s what we need The Plan for. We have to get him to stop looking at you as a friend and start looking at you as a candidate for Mrs. Perfect.”

  “And how are we supposed to do that? Look at me.”

  Lou was wearing her standard uniform of jeans and a loose blouse that left everything to the imagination. Her hair was yanked back in a no-muss, no-fuss ponytail and she wasn’t wearing a drop of make-up. Her hips were too wide, her face too round, and her thighs were a crime against humanity. Hardly Suitorette material.

  Kelly waved away her objections. “You’ve got the framework, darling. You just aren’t staging your property to sell. Some highlights, a new cut, a dollop of L’Oreal and some of Victoria’s Secret puts you right on par with all those overblown Suitorette floozies.”

  “Did you just compare me to a house?”

  “It’s HGTV. It’s taken over my brain. But the principle still applies. You need a makeover to de-mom you. You’re great with the kids, but a man is never going to rip your clothes off if all he’s thinking about when he looks at you is his children.”

  “I’m going to be in LA with the children. I’m not sure how I’m going to keep Jack from thinking of them.”

  “The children have to sleep, don’t they? The nighttime is the right time, baby. And it’s not that you want him to neglect his duties as a father. You just want him to be a man first and a daddy second when he looks at you. And since he’s had four years to get in the habit of not thinking of you as a sex object, we need drastic measures to shake things up.”

  Lou fidgeted nervously. “I’m not sure I am a sex object, Kel. Even in college all my relationships were pretty tame.”

  “Every woman is a sex object with the right man, Lou-la-belle. We just need to unleash your inner vixen. We’ll start with wardrobe.” Kelly bounced on the balls of her feet. “I love a makeover shopping trip!”

  Just the thought of the mall made Lou cringe. “The kids are mayhem in department stores, Kel. We can’t—”

  “The kids are in school. No excuses.”

  Lou hesitated, drawn in by the idea in spite of herself. The thought of going shopping without the children was an aphrodisiac in itself. How long had it been since she went shopping for herself? Not just grabbing a fresh six-pack of panties at Target but actual shopping. An uninterrupted afternoon at the mall was a siren call she couldn’t resist.

  Especially if it meant she might have a shot at changing the way Jack looked at her.

  “I don’t know, Kel. How much good can a few clothes and a haircut really do?”

  Kelly flashed a feline smile. “Darling, don’t underestimate the master. You’re going to steal that show and I’m going to teach you how. By the time I get through with you, Marrying Mr. Perfect won’t know what hit them.”

  Chapter Twelve

  “Ally’s a great girl. When she told me she was afraid of heights in the helicopter and took my hand, it really made me think how important it is to have someone to rely on. Someone who has your back no matter what. That trust is definitely a quality I’m looking for in my wife.”

  Jack felt like a total jackass as he mumbled the rehearsed, heart-on-his-sleeve BS for the camera. It was hard not to be a complete narcissist after ten solid days of the world spinning around what he thought and felt. But for a world that catered to his every whim, it was dizzying how out of control he felt.

  Miranda tapped her tablet, bringing him back to the moment. Cameras. Lights. A confessional sequence to be used as B-roll during the airing of this morning’s dream date.

  If anyone was in control here, it was Miranda, not him. No matter how obvious her manipulations as she molded him into the shape of Mister Perfect, they were working. Even seeing how she pulled every string, he danced. The woman was good.

  “And the kiss?” Miranda prompted. “Would you say you have chemistry?”

  Jack shifted in the leather armchair, trying not to look as uncomfortable as he felt. He’d never been the type to brag about girls and it felt even more wrong to do it on national television—especially knowing that the women themselves would later have the chance to watch this.

  His chemistry with Ally was non-existent—she just felt so damn young. Not so much in years, but in life. He may only have a few years on her, but it felt like a lifetime of difference. He couldn’t begin to imagine her as a partner—but she’d come right out and asked him to kiss her and he hadn’t felt like there was any other option that wouldn’t embarrass her with the cameras bearing down on them. It had been tepid at best. And now he got to relive it for the home viewers. Fantastic.

  He didn’t want to hurt Ally any more than he wanted to lie. Optimistic but honest. That’s what Miranda kept telling him to be. “Ally is gorgeous. Who wouldn’t want to kiss her?”

  Miranda beamed, her eyes gleaming with awareness of his careful dodge. “That’s great, Jack. Perfect. We’ll cut there for the day.”

  His shoulders sagged with relief. That was the last of his Marrying Mister Perfect duties before Lou and the kids were scheduled to arrive. Finally he could get back to feeling like he was on terra firma. He needed a shot of normalcy.

  Even his sense of time was distorted. They were ten days in, but they’d already had three Elimination Ceremonies and were beginning to shoot the dates for the fourth episode. He was having trouble keeping track of the days of the week. Without the kids’ visit to look forward to, he didn’t know how he would have kept himself grounded.

  As the camera crew began packing up, Miranda strolled oh-so-casually over to where he sat and leaned against the bookcase that had been placed beside him for depth and atmosphere. She tipped her head to the side and gave him a reassuring smile.

  “You’re doing wonderfully, Jack. Just great. All the footage is looking positively gorgeous and the PR folks are reporting great buzz from the marketing campaign to promote you as Mister Perfect. The network executives are very pleased.”

  Anything to please the network execs. “I’m glad.”

  “We do have one teensy little concern, though. Just a tiny question and I want you to know that you can answer me with absolute honesty. Whatever you’re feeling, we want authenticity on this show above all else.”

  Jack eyed Miranda as he disentangled himself from the mic pack and handed it to the sound guy, wondering where the hell she was going with this. “Are you saying I’m not authentic?”

  “Oh, honey, no.” She laughed, as if the idea of him being fake was beyond ridiculous—which he supposed should be flattering. “No one could accuse you of that. It’s just that you seem a bit… how shall I put this? Emotionally constipa
ted.”

  He choked.

  Miranda smiled soothingly. “We’re concerned that you might not be entering this process with your whole heart open.”

  “My whole heart?” What did that even mean? “Look, if you need me to do something else…”

  “It isn’t about what you’re doing, Jack. You’re doing beautifully. It’s about what you’re feeling. Or rather, what you don’t appear to be feeling.”

  “I’m not following you.” What was he supposed to be feeling? Confused? Awkward? If so, he was doing a bang up job. All other emotions were eluding him.

  “Jack.” Miranda crouched down beside his chair, though she didn’t touch him—not the touchy-feely sort, Miranda. “I’m going to ask you a question and I want you to answer truthfully. Even if you think the answer might be something I don’t want to hear.”

  “Okay.”

  “Are you still pining for your dead wife?”

  “What?” The cameras should have been rolling. They would have caught a comic-book look of surprise flashing across his face. “You think I’m pining?”

  Miranda patted the armchair—as if the upholstery needed consoling. “I know it’s hard for you to imagine anyone ever replacing her, but we need you to open your heart to this experience, Jack. You’re holding yourself back. I can tell. And what’s more, America will be able to tell.” She patted the chair again. “Open your heart, Jack. Really embrace this experience and be ready to let love in.”

  “I barely know these girls,” he protested.

  “I know,” Miranda quickly assured him. “And we aren’t asking you to love them now. Don’t get ahead of your emotions, Jack. I just want you to be open to this adventure. Be open, Jack.”

  Jack nodded warily, ready to say just about anything to get Miranda away from him. “I’ll be open.”

  “Excellent.” Miranda beamed at her star pupil and gave the armchair one last congratulatory pat. “America will love you, Jack. Just remember, it takes a real man to own up to his emotions.” She popped to her feet, and her smile turned fierce. “Be a man, Jack.”

  Jack watched Miranda stalk out of the room. Tension knotted every muscle in his body. He needed a dose of normalcy so badly he ached.

  Lou couldn’t get here fast enough.

  Lou fidgeted in the back of the limo, running her fingers through her newly layered and highlighted hair for the seven millionth time. Emma and TJ bounced on the seat beside her, as excited by their first ever limo ride as they were by the thought of seeing their father again in just a few minutes.

  Lou would have been excited by the thought of seeing Jack too, if she weren’t three-quarters of the way to a nervous breakdown. She couldn’t believe she’d let Kelly talk her into this outfit.

  The stretchy fabric of the sundress had survived the four hour plane trip miraculously unwrinkled—and had earned her more than one speculative once-over from the businessmen in first class, even with two noisy kids in tow. It was snug and low cut without being indecent and the flared skirt swished flirtily around her thighs as she walked. Kelly had described it as “versatile enough for a date when you don’t know where you’ll be jet-setting off to and eye-catching enough to stand out in a group date.”

  Since Lou wasn’t actually going to be on the TV show, she didn’t see how any of that mattered, but Kelly insisted it was all about measuring up against her competition.

  Lou hated the idea that she was competing for Jack. She’d had him all to herself for so long, but now it seemed like she was destined to be just one of a throng of women professing to love him. But at least she had Kelly’s advice to guide her. The woman was downright Machiavellian when it came to romance.

  The limo rolled to a stop in the driveway of a jaw-dropping mansion. The kind of place she’d always pictured movie stars living in. And a man with movie star good looks was jogging down the front steps toward them, a broad grin on his face. Lou’s heart lurched. Damn, the man was something else. The kids dove for the doors as soon as the car stopped. “Dad!” they shouted as they leapt out of the vehicle and charged him.

  Lou followed more slowly, taking time to smooth her skirt, peek in the mirror to check her make-up, and fluff her hair one last time. This would be the first time Jack laid eyes on The New Lou and she felt as nervous as if she were arriving for a blind date.

  Lou stepped out of the limo, looked up, and there he was. Sweeping Emma and TJ up, one in each arm. The exhaustion from a four hour plane ride with two rambunctious children fell away like water sloughing off. The tension she’d built up, wondering how he was going to react to her new look, melted away after one look at him.

  Jack.

  She loved him in jeans or his scrubs, but the man was flat out devastating in a suit. Dark jacket, no tie, with the collar of his crisp white dress shirt open to the second button—he looked like he’d just come home from the Oscars and only bothered to tug off his bowtie. His brilliant eyes shone sapphire bright as he laughed with the kids, tucking Emma under one arm and dangling TJ over his other shoulder until he shrieked.

  Lou hovered, holding herself back. Kelly had given her strict instructions not to fall prostrate at his feet and profess her undying love. The Plan involved luring him into pursuing her and making him think the entire thing was his idea before any declaration of feelings. Seduction first, happily ever after later. Lou had doubted her ability to lure Jack into seducing her, but she hadn’t realized keeping her feelings to herself was going to be so hard. She was far too tempted to tell him everything.

  Then he looked up, seeming to realize she wasn’t there with the kids, crawling all over him. His gaze found her, lingering nervously by the limousine. Lou looked into that heart-stoppingly familiar blue gaze and, before she could remind herself of Kelly’s flirt-with-your-eyes-and-look-mysterious instructions, a wide smile broke across her face.

  For a fraction of a second, when Jack saw the woman standing by the limousine, he thought one of the Suitorettes had snuck over from the mansion next door to sneak a peek at his kids. Then she smiled and realization slammed into him.

  “Lou,” he gasped.

  “Hello, Jack.” She strode toward him. The skirt of her leave-no-curve-unhugged dress shifted sensuously against her thighs as she walked.

  Jack’s mouth went dry. He may not be the most observant guy, but something was definitely different.

  Normally he would have hauled her into a hug and they would have all tripped into the house, an easy laughing reunion, but something about Lou stopped him. He hesitated, nervous around her for some inexplicable reason. As the kids slid down to the ground to hang off his arms, swinging on them like gates in a breeze, Jack stood awkwardly and studied Lou from head to toe.

  “New dress?”

  Lou smiled again, smoothing a hand over the fabric on her hip. “Kelly and I went shopping. Do you like it?”

  Like wasn’t exactly the word he would have used. He wasn’t sure there was a word for what he thought when he saw her in that figure-painting outfit. It sure as hell wasn’t her usual jeans. And he didn’t think her outfit was the only thing that was different. Everything seemed different. She seemed different.

  “You’re wearing your hair down.” She must be using a new shampoo or something. Her hair looked lighter, her eyes brighter.

  She fingered the blondish strands falling over her shoulders. “I wanted a change.”

  “Change is good,” he muttered, and then couldn’t think of a single word to say.

  All week he’d been a pro, charming the Suitorettes on cue, but now he was tongue-tied and tripping over himself. What was wrong with him?

  “Shall we go inside?” she asked, her words as hesitant as he felt. “Or do we need to grab the bags?”

  The normalcy of the comment about luggage finally snapped him out of his stupor. “No. No, they’ve got people to get the bags. Let’s go on in.”

  Emma and TJ cheered and dropped his arms to race toward the front door. Lou followed more slowly
and Jack fell into step beside her, periodically glancing over at her, just checking to make sure nothing else had changed when he wasn’t looking.

  He was reminded, as they toured the house, of how he’d felt last week on the night when he first met the women—alert and intrigued. Which, considering it was Lou walking beside him, seemed a contradiction. She wasn’t intriguing. She was familiar. That was what made being with her so wonderful. They were easy together. He wasn’t supposed to be feeling this awkward awareness.

  They finished the tour of the lower level in the bowling alley. Lou hung back with him as the kids kicked off their shoes and raced around on the highly polished wood in their socks, sliding Risky Business style.

  “So how’s the process going?” Lou asked as they watched Emma and TJ hurling themselves down the lanes in the bowling alley like an indoor slip n’ slide.

  “It’s pretty good actually.”

  It was bizarre and confusing, but something stopped him from complaining about the show. Like it would be wrong to mention the women to Lou—which made no sense. He hadn’t hesitated to tell her about them the few times they’d managed to find time to talk on the phone in the last week.

  Be normal, Jack. This is Lou.

  He grimaced. “You had Angela pegged. The one who kissed me as soon as she saw me. She wasn’t here for the right reasons.”

  “The swimsuit model?”

  “No. The lawyer.”

  Lou smiled, a small secretive smile he wasn’t sure he’d ever seen before. How could she have changed so much in the last ten days? “So you kicked her to the curb, eh? And the swimsuit model?”

  “Katya.” Jack felt his cheekbones warm. “She’s still here.”

  Lou made a small tsking sound. He knew he was courting Kelly’s disapproval, but Katya made him feel important. She looked at him like he’d hung the moon—like he actually deserved to be Mr. Perfect. There was no denying it was heady stuff having a woman who looked like that looking at him the way she did.

  Lou propped her elbows against the wet bar behind her. The pose and that dress put everything on display and Jack had to remind himself he had no urge to ogle his best friend’s breasts. No matter how well they filled out that dress.

 

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