And Molly had thought, Well, it’s not like Zeke Dawson is going to fall out of the sky and ask me to marry him, so why the hell not? That was how Molly had found herself married to a perfectly fine guy with his own successful auto repair shop. They’d fallen into marriage instead of into love. Andrew had cried when he’d told her he’d unexpectedly found himself madly in love with his new ace mechanic, Lila, but it was so overpowering that, yes, he was going to break up his marriage to his newly pregnant wife. Molly had been devastated and furious and scared. But as time had passed, she began to understand if not exactly condone.
If Andrew could find his soul mate out of the blue, then who said anything wasn’t possible? Zeke had fallen out of the sky, hadn’t he? Right back in her path. That had to mean something.
And he had looked at her like he wanted to pick her up in his arms, kiss her soap-opera style and carry her off to bed.
She smiled again, wondering if she should make her lips even more appealing to Zeke with a little gloss when her phone rang. Danica. Which reminded her. Would Zeke be looking at Molly with soap-opera lust when he had a serious crush on Danica?
Hmm. Maybe not. Maybe the whole thing had been her wishful thinking.
Molly plopped down on her bed and got comfy. “Tell me all about your first date back on the circuit!”
Was it selfish that Molly was hoping Danica had a great time with the bronc champ and that she couldn’t wait to see him again? Okay, it was a little. But Danica would be happy and Molly wouldn’t have to worry about her friend being free to date Zeke.
“Not only wasn’t he a nice guy,” Danica said, “he told me I should get myself a pair of black skinny jeans like our waitress had on in Ruby’s Steakhouse after he complimented her on how good she looked in them right in front of me! What a jerk!”
Wait—what? Molly thought. This kind of thing happens to women who looked like Danica? How was that possible? Then again, she realized with a mental thunk to her forehead, Danica’s husband had cheated on her. Beautiful women weren’t immune.
“I can’t believe he even noticed another woman while sitting across from you,” Molly said. “That’s nuts.”
“Well, that’s sweet of you to say but trust me, his eyes were all over every woman who walked by. Ugh. But you know what? The old Danica would have tried to win his attention. The new Danica told him he’d given her a headache before the dessert menu arrived and left.”
“Yes! Good for you, Danica! But sorry he was an idiot. There are good guys out there. I really believe that.”
“I sure hope so. Tomorrow night right after work I’m having coffee with a dentist. He has a great smile. We’ll see. So tell me how your first day at your new job was! Your boss seems so nice and polite—nothing like that troll of a last boss. I don’t really remember him from high school, though I remember all the Dawson boys were very cute. In fact, I sold a house to a Dawson just the other day—Ford. Talk about oil and water, but hey, I did get the sale.”
Maybe Danica would be oil and water with Molly’s Dawson. Not that she wanted her friend to think Zeke was anything less than amazing. Sometimes, all this nonsense got complicated.
“Zeke is wonderful,” Molly said, catching the dreamy quality in her voice and hoping Danica didn’t. She cleared her throat. “He’s very kind and the work he does is so interesting. Helping companies find solutions to their problems, whether financial or with employees.”
“I’m so happy for you, Molly. And it doesn’t hurt that he’s so attractive.”
Molly swallowed. Of course Danica found Zeke attractive. Any woman would.
She was dying to tell her bestie every last detail—how much she wanted to kiss Zeke, the way he was with Lucy, the real bond developing between them—and to talk about whether or not she was imagining that smoldering look in his eyes. But the words just wouldn’t come out. Should she tell Danica everything? About her long-term crush on Zeke? About his long-term crush on Danica and how he was getting advice from Molly about winning her over? The whole thing would make Danica uncomfortable and put her in a funny position since her friend would know that had to hurt Molly and was compounded by Zeke being Molly’s boss. So she couldn’t say a word. She’d just have to see how it all played out.
Molly had been putting too much stock in the bronc champ, hoping he’d be great and that Danica would fall for him so that she’d be off the market again. Then at least Molly would have more time for her and Zeke’s clear chemistry to lead him to notice her as a woman. She was half sure that was what had been going on earlier tonight. So pipe dream or not, she was going glass half full on the pursuit of Zeke Dawson. Didn’t she intend to teach Lucy to reach for the stars?
Zeke liked her—a lot. She knew that, could feel it. And the more a person liked someone, the more attractive that someone became, right? In a month, Zeke might look at Molly and see Cindy Crawford in her Pepsi commercial. She bit her lip, realizing that was exactly what she wanted. For Zeke to fall for her because he saw her as beautiful on the inside and outside—by being herself.
But come on. All the confidence in the world wouldn’t make Molly the kind of woman Zeke went for: a woman who looked like Danica. Was this pointless or not?
She got up and went to the mirror and studied herself. Wild mess of hair in a lopsided bun. Not a shred of makeup. Unpolished short nails—and toes. Plain old Molly Orton.
“Danica, do you think I should get a makeover?” Molly asked. “Be more glam? Straighten my hair? Wear less conservative clothes?” She needed a fairy godmother. Wyoming Cinderella—that was Molly.
“What on earth for?”
“To get my Mr. Right,” Molly said. “You know the luck I had on the Converse County Singles app. Maybe I should present myself as more of what men want on the surface.”
“No way. You’re not looking for surface, Molly. You want the real deal. Your Mr. Right will love you the way are. The real you. So no. You don’t need keratin treatments or a pencil skirt.”
Molly gave a sigh of resignation, closed her closet and flopped back on her bed. “I’m glad you said that because I can’t imagine spending a half hour on my makeup and hair every morning or trying to sit down in a tight skirt. That’s definitely not me.”
“I spend over an hour of my morning on hair and makeup, Molly,” Danica said on a laugh. “But I love all that, including my five-step skin care routine and my two primers before I even apply my foundation and my spray mist to help set my finished face. I like my high heels. And I’m used to being slightly uncomfortable in my clothes and shoes. But I’m supergirlie—that’s me. I don’t do it to attract attention. I do it because I like it. I remember being five, six years old and watching my mom get all dolled up for work and evenings out with my dad and I couldn’t wait to get my own perfume atomizer and powder puff.”
Okay, she could see that. All of it. But where did that leave Molly? “And I do absolutely nothing because I like being invisible and fading into the woodwork?” That couldn’t be right. She thought of her various-shades-of-beige pantsuits and sensible, neutral-colored shoes and frowned. Maybe it was. She’d never liked standing out or being the center of attention—even on her wedding day.
“First of all, Molly Orton, you’re not invisible. Yesterday at work, one of the Realtors said to me, ‘Can you ask your friend with the gorgeous curly hair where she gets it cut?’”
“Really? That’s nice to know.” Huh. “And I got it done at Dream Hair near the bakery.”
“I’ll let her know. And you don’t fade into the woodwork,” Danica added. “Your style is natural and conservative. That’s always been you, and why is flashy and tight better? It’s not. Remember when you tried mascara in sixth grade and were miserable until you washed it off? To be honest, I’ve always envied that, that the real you is front and center all the time. I wear makeup to the health club, Molly.”
She laughe
d. “So I guess we’re both just us.”
“Right! Team Us. And the new and stronger Danica doesn’t date jerks who ogle waitresses.”
“Yeah! And the new and stronger Molly goes for what she wants.”
And what she wants is Zeke Dawson.
By the time they hung up, Molly was set on this new path of getting Zeke Dawson by just being herself. She’d be her own fairy godmother.
Chapter Five
Once again, Zeke beat Molly to work on Tuesday morning, and had not only made the coffee but had brought in croissants—superflaky and buttery—and left them at the coffee station with a sticky note that read, Help yourself.
I would like to help myself to you, Molly thought as he came out of his office in a sharp and sexy dark blue suit. They made some brief chitchat and then got down to business; she knew he had a busy morning—two meetings with presentations since she was the keeper of his schedule. He gave her a heap of work to get through by noon—research into two companies in the county—but as he stood close, explaining what he wanted, the scent of his soap and shampoo driving her wild at 8:52 a.m., she’d assured him she’d make it happen. She’d gotten a killer smile in return.
By 11:40, she was done, her report ready to be emailed and the hard copy dropped off in his office. She’d wanted to be finished before he arrived back from his final meeting of the morning so that he’d return to her wonderful efficiency. Hey, it all added up.
She’d just returned to her desk with a satisfied smile when the office phone rang.
“Dawson Solutions, Inc., how may I help you?”
“Good morning,” said a very familiar voice. “I’d like to make an appointment with Mr. Dawson.”
“Dad?” Molly asked, tilting her head.
“Well, yes, sweetheart, but I’m calling as Tim Orton, owner of Tim’s Tasty Tacos.”
But why? Her father had said business at his new food truck was booming and that he was on his way to recouping his initial output—a chunk of her parents’ retirement—and making a profit in only two weeks. Why would he want to meet with a consultant who turned failing companies around? Unless...
“Dad, I mean Tim, is everything okay?”
He didn’t respond for a few seconds, then she heard the sigh in his voice. “Every day since my grand opening I’ve sold fewer and fewer tacos. Yesterday, five. Five, Molly! I can eat five of my tacos in one sitting. I just don’t get it! So I’d like to make an appointment with Zeke Dawson to help me figure out what I’m doing wrong. Oh, and, Molly? I haven’t mentioned sales or lack thereof to your mother yet. I just smile and say, ‘Great!’ when she asks how things are going, so maybe we can keep this between us for a bit? Just until I start to turn things around so she doesn’t worry.”
Oh, dear.
Molly’s father had retired three months ago from the IT department of the hospital in Prairie City and though he hadn’t exactly loved his job, he’d been so miserable puttering around the house that Molly’s mom had suggested he follow his heart—the career choice he’d put aside “to be practical as a young married man.” Cooking. Except Abby Orton had been talking about a part-time job as a short-order cook at the diner, whipping up chocolate chip pancakes and bacon cheeseburgers and making BLTs.
But Tim Orton didn’t have any experience to get him a cooking job and he’d been getting more and more dejected and bored. So when he noticed busy food trucks in Prairie City, he lit on the idea of opening his own—selling tacos and only tacos, his favorite food. His wife had been understandably nervous. What did he know about the food truck business? He’d assured Abby he’d do his research and wouldn’t use too much of their savings to buy the truck and that he’d be such a hit that they’d make back the investment within a month. That clearly wasn’t happening. Molly had been a lot more enthusiastic and supportive than her very practical mother over the new venture. After all, who didn’t love tacos? And her dad’s idea to park the truck in Prairie City, a much larger, more bustling town, seemed like solid business sense, even if she couldn’t drive the hour total there and back for tacos on her lunch break.
She was about to tell her father that she’d have Zeke return his call when the man himself returned to the office. Molly offered Zeke a smile as he took off his charcoal overcoat and hung it up. “Dad, I’ll let Zeke know you’d like to set up a meeting—”
Zeke did a double take. “Your father? Put him through to my office.”
Of course that was his response. Because he was great.
“Dad, hang on for a sec. Zeke will be right with you.”
“Oh, thank heavens,” Tim Orton said, relief coating his voice. “Love you, Molly-cakes.”
“Love you, too, Dad.” She transferred the call and replaced the receiver, wishing she could eavesdrop.
Sure was something for her boss to drop everything to talk to her dad the second he walked in after two meetings with clients. Zeke had done that for her, she knew, and a warm burst of gooey joy spread inside her chest, filling every little nook and cranny of her heart. Zeke was the definition of a good person. She knew from his schedule that he had a busy afternoon planned—working on strategy for two of his new clients with her at the ready to do any pop-up research on the companies, rivals and tactics, chasing down intel, researching stats. In fact, the entire week was pretty packed with client meetings, strategy and presentations. She wasn’t sure when he’d be able to actually sit down with her father for a face-to-face meeting about the taco truck.
A few minutes later, Zeke was back. “You can start a New Client file for Tim Orton, proprietor of Tim’s Tasty Tacos.” He smiled and reached for his coat, shrugging into it. “I’m heading out to Prairie City to meet with him at the truck now.”
She almost fell off her chair. “Oh, Zeke, you don’t need to do that because he’s my dad—I know you were planning to work on the Miller and Ranelli accounts this afternoon.”
“Client needs me, I’m there,” he said. “That’s the Dawson Solutions way. I could hear the worry in your father’s voice, as I’m sure you did—and yes, that he’s your dad means he gets special treatment. That’s the Dawson way.”
Why do you have be so damned good and generous on top of being gorgeous?
“Besides,” Zeke continued, “in that two-minute conversation I was able to note three major problems with the truck, so I have a feeling we’ll have Tim’s Tasty Tacos out of the red in no time.”
Oh, Zeke. Could you be any more wonderful? “I appreciate that. He did sound very worried.”
“We’ll turn it around. That’s what I’m here for.” He laid a warm strong hand on her shoulder, then added, “I was going to pop into Danica’s realty office today to talk houses but that can wait till later or tomorrow. I am in the market, and I figure while she and I are discussing homes, I can get a sense of whether I should ask her out or not or hold off. Thanks to your tips, I have on my blue shirt and know not to make juvenile jokes. Not that I would.”
She really did try to smile but couldn’t get it to stretch very far. Ugh. She’d noticed the blue shirt because it brought out his eyes, and the bit of it she could see against his muscular chest under his suit jacket had her wondering if he had a hairy chest or if it was bare and smooth. But she hadn’t related it to her advice about Danica’s favorite color.
Because you very foolishly thought he was into you last night. Looking at you like he’d look at Danica. Wanting you like he wanted her. Dummy, she told herself, a little nook of her heart unfilling with that warm goo from just a little while ago.
She mentally shook her head at herself. You’ve never been a daydreamer, Molly. Don’t start now when it’ll lead to a smashed heart and have you so off balance you’ll be bad at your job and get fired.
“Yeah, I’m thinking that’ll have to wait till tomorrow,” he added on a nod. “Guess I’ll have to pick a blue tie for Wednesday.” He shot her hi
s dazzling smile, buttoning up his coat.
A day’s reprieve from getting a call from Danica, her friend excitedly telling Molly that Zeke had come in to talk about available houses in Bear Ridge and he asked her out and Gosh, I’d love to say yes but would you find that weird or conflict of interest-y if your BFF started dating your boss, Mols?
Danica would ask because she, too, was great, and she would consider Molly before herself.
Blast it. Danica and Zeke were so damned thoughtful they did belong together.
Get it together, Molly. They’re not a pair. Yeah, they’re both nice. That’s pretty much all they have in common besides both being gorgeous, too. They’d have no chemistry—Molly was sure of that.
Okay, phew. Heart rate back to normal. And his week was so busy that maybe he wouldn’t have time to stop in at the realty. Danica was always in and out, too, so it was possible “stopping in” wouldn’t work out. Double phew.
“Thanks again for dropping everything to help my father,” she said, her mind turning to Tim Orton. She suddenly pictured him in his truck, thousands of taco shells and heads of lettuce piling up and no money in the till. She bit her lip, wishing she could join in on the meeting, rush to her dad’s side and help, but he was getting an expert.
“It’s my pleasure,” he said. “Oh, and normally you’d be privy to all client communication, but since this is your family and your father might want to keep it private from his daughter, who happens to be my admin, I’ll respect his wishes. But if he’s comfortable with you knowing the details, I’ll bring you in on the case. Knowing your dad the way you do could be a real help when I get into the personal nitty-gritty of why the truck is underperforming.”
She tilted her head. “Personal nitty-gritty?”
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