Seattle Girl (27 page)

Brandon Philips worked to wipe the stunned look off of his face. “Yes, I did,” he said, leaving off the pertinent fact that he had only done it to get back at his ex-girlfriend for dumping him because of his so-called “commitment issues.”

Stalling for time to figure out just what the hell he had got himself into, he asked, “How many applicants were there?”

“Thousands. But I knew you were our best prospect the minute you walked through the door. Your screen test confirmed that the camera loves you and your resume is excellent.”

Brandon took a moment to digest the unexpected news. “If I signed on, what would you expect me to do?”

Joe slid a copy of the
Falling For Mr. Right
contract across the table. “The show will air over a period of two weeks. This gives you fourteen days to decide who you want to marry among the thirty women we introduce you to.

Brandon’s mouth went completely dry. How could he possibly fall for anyone that fast?
 
He took a sip of coffee and kept his expression bland, waiting for his brain to click back into the ‘on’ position. “How often would I be filmed?”

Joe looked Brandon straight in the eye. “Brandon, I want to be completely upfront with you today, before you agree to sign anything.”

Brandon nodded for Joe to continue.

“There will be cameras filming you during every interaction with the girls.”

“Is that all?”

“Not quite.” Joe straightened his tie before continuing. “There is one special clause in the contract that I need to draw your attention to.”

He pointed out a paragraph in the middle of page one.
Mr. Right will allow Producer to pick one wild card for each of the selection ceremonies, until only three women remain. At that point, Mr. Right will have complete control over his contestant selection
.

“Can you live with that?” Joe asked him.

Brandon leaned back in his chair. He couldn’t have cared less about one wild-card out of thirty women. How bad could one woman be?
 
The big question was how they were going to make sure he wanted to choose
any
of the women?
 

“That depends. How are you planning on finding thirty women that I would be interested in dating in the first place?”

Joe slid another piece of paper over. “Here’s a questionnaire we would like you to fill out. We will find women that fulfill as many of your requirements as possible.”

Brandon’s raised eyebrow gave away his skepticism. “What if none of the thirty work out?”

“The paragraph at the top of page eight has the answer you are looking for.”

Brandon flipped through the contract and scanned the legal speak. “You expect me to marry a stranger on the air July 1st?”

“We do.”

“And if July 1st comes and there is no wedding?”

Joe cleared his throat before speaking with a determined edge to his voice. “Brandon, I think you will find this contract more than reasonable. During the two weeks of taping we will treat you to five star accommodations, exotic destinations, and thirty gorgeous, accomplished women. This is an opportunity of a lifetime and we hope you will agree to join us in producing a truly excellent program.”

Brandon was about to say “No way,” when he was suddenly assailed with a heckling chorus of several ex-girlfriend’s last words to him.

“You’ll never settle down!”

“Why won’t you open up?”

“No woman will ever be good enough for you!”

And then the worst one, which he hadn’t been able to get out of his head since his last break-up, “
You’re going to die alone and you deserve it!”

He knew he had applied for the TV show for all of the wrong reasons. Spite. Annoyance. To prove his exes wrong. But just because he didn’t want to marry any of them didn’t make him an emotionally crippled commitment-phobe.

He certainly didn’t want to date and get married in front of millions of people. But now, sitting in the studio, he wondered if his exes were right. Could he ever let any woman get close enough to him to get married and have a family like the rest of his friends and co-workers?

If he were to sign a contract that made it so he
had
to get married, there would be no way out. And since he didn’t believe in true love — the lie that there was actually one person out there for him that would complete him and give his life meaning — being “Mr. Right” would be the optimal way to check marriage off his list of life goals. He would put his criteria down for his perfect woman, and Joe’s staff would hunt her down.

It was the perfect, easy solution to his marriage problem. No long courtship. No games. Just a selection of thirty beautiful, available marriage-minded women to choose from.

He flipped to the last page of the contract and said, “You got a pen handy? Let’s get this ball rolling.”

...Excerpt from FALLING FAST by Lucy Kevin © 2011.

* * * * *

SPARKS FLY (A fun romance about the “magic” of falling in love)

Angelina Morgan is a beautiful consultant who practices an ancient art form called Feng Shui. Will Scott is an all-business CEO who doesn't believe anything he can't see and touch. With the help of a meddling ex-wife, a well-meaning best friend, and a matchmaking mother, Angelina and Will are about to find out what happens when opposites attract...and sparks fly.

Please enjoy the following excerpt for SPARKS FLY © 2011 Lucy Kevin...

“Wow,” Angelina Morgan said as she got out of her car in front of a huge mansion. “That is one seriously huge house.” She'd seen pictures of places like this in magazines, but had never actually been inside one.

She'd planned two hours for this Feng Shui consultation.

She'd need two weeks.

Feeling much as she imagined Maria must have felt in the
Sound of Music
when she saw the Captain's house for the first time –
I need to have confidence
, she thought – Angelina took a deep breath and headed up the long front path.

She rang the doorbell and waited. Long enough that she rang it again.

Finally, the door opened. Angelina was about to introduce herself....but the words dried up on her tongue.

The man standing before her was, in a word, perfect. Dirty blond hair contrasted with blue eyes. Tanned skin highlighted bold cheekbones, a strong nose and gorgeous lips.

“Are you Angelina Morgan?”

Stunned by her unprofessional thoughts about her client, she barely managed a “Yes.”

She hadn’t had a sexual thought about a man in months and was alarmed that her dead libido should perk up at such an inappropriate time.

She was even more alarmed when her client said, “Will Scott,” then shook her hand, causing a
 
frisson of heat to surge through her.

Quickly pulling her hand back, she said, “I'm so sorry about being a few minutes late. I've rarely been to this neighborhood and I'm afraid I got a little lost. In any case, given that your house is larger than I anticipated, I want you to know that I'm happy to stay and work with you for as long as it takes.”

“Actually, I've got some important work to take care of, so the quicker we can get this done, the better.”

Angelina knew she should be accommodating. Not only was she late, but judging by the size of his mansion, he was probably counting every minute in her company as millions of dollars lost.

Intending to start again with a clean slate, she conjured up her most genuine smile. “First of all, Mr. Scott—”

“Call me Will.”

Angelina gave a slight nod of her head in acquiescence. “OK, Will, I’d like to find out how much you know about Feng Shui. Particularly as this consultation was given to you as a gift from a friend.”

“Not a friend exactly.” He paused slightly. “Susan is my ex-wife.”

Angelina barely stopped herself from exclaiming, “
How strange!
” Clearing her throat, she said, “As I was saying, due to the fact that this Feng Shui consultation was given to you as a gift from your, uh, ex-wife...” She stopped to clear her throat again. “It’s important for me to know how much I'll need to explain.”

“Frankly, the only thing I’m worried about is the neighbors finding out I’m dabbling in magic and witchcraft.”

Silently reminding herself that she had always been able to convert staunch disbelievers into the ancient art’s greatest proponents, she said, “Why don't we discuss the ideas behind Feng Shui for a few minutes before we jump into the consultation? That way you will understand why it has absolutely nothing to do with magic or witches.”

“Just as long as we’re done before my meeting.”

Angelina felt a tension headache coming on. “Didn't Susan make it clear to you that we need at least two hours?”

“Two hours? I don't have two hours.” Will’s cell phone rang and he lifted it up to look at the screen. “I need to take this call.”

As he moved away from the door, a sudden breeze slammed it shut in her face, leaving Angelina standing alone on his front step.

Utterly shocked by how things had played out, for the first time in her life, Angelina actually wished she did know some witchcraft.

If this man thought she was going to wait around for him to get his act together, he was sorely mistaken. His ex-wife Susan—what a forgiving, calm person she must have been to deal with him for as long as she did—could have her money back. First thing Angelina was going to take care of when she got back to her office was getting rid of Mr. Scott as a client, once and for all.

And good riddance.

* * *

Still more than a little irritated when she returned home, Angelina slammed her car door behind her, stalked up to the front door of the cute house she was renting, and jammed the key into the front door.

Letting herself inside, she leaned against the back of the door and surveyed the clutter in her living room. She spent so much time helping other people deal with their messes that she rarely had time to deal with hers anymore.

“I really need to clean my house up soon,” she muttered as she took in the stacks of magazines, books, and papers.

Walking into her office, she picked up a fax that had come in while she was out and quickly noted the time and place of the photo shoot for her cover story in
Professional Woman
magazine.

The irony of her situation was not lost on Angelina. Her job was helping others find balance in all areas of their lives, but since her business had taken off, her personal life had been knocked completely out of balance by her professional success. Case in point, she couldn’t remember the last time she’d been out on a date and actually enjoyed herself.

It figured, somehow, that the first man she was attracted to in years was not only an off-limits client, but arrogant and disrespectful as well.

No. She wouldn't dwell on her lackluster personal life. Not when she had important business to take care of.

Flipping through her client book, she found Will’s ex-wife’s number, picked up the phone with firm purpose and dialed.

“Susan. It’s Angelina Morgan.”

Susan sounded thrilled to hear from her. “How was your consultation with Will?”

Best just to be honest, Angelina thought. “I’m going to have to refund your money. I’m afraid he is not at all interested in having a Feng Shui consultation.”

“How can you say that?” Susan’s tone was accusing.

“He left me standing in his front yard to take a phone call. And he didn’t come back.” Not to mention the fact that he was insufferably rude.

“Oh, I see,” was Susan’s quiet response.

“I have a policy of not working with clients who need to be sold on Feng Shui, because it tends to do neither the client nor myself a whole lot of good. So really, I’m partially to blame. I never should have accepted your money in the first place.”

“But you’ve got to help him. Somebody has got to help him.”

Angelina sighed. Why couldn’t these things be easier?
 
“Susan, I don’t think -”

“Let me explain about Will. He’s my ex-husband, and now you probably understand some of the reasons why I divorced him. But he didn’t used to be that way. I mean, he always enjoyed working, but when I first met him he was fun too. Unfortunately, as his company grew bigger, he hardly ever came home and when he was around he was glued to the phone or computer.”

Suddenly, Angelina felt like a marriage counselor. But Susan was on a roll, and Angelina didn’t have the heart to cut her off.

“The last year of our marriage was awful. I hardly saw him and I felt like I didn’t even know who he was anymore.” Susan paused and added in dark tones, “And he sure as hell had no idea who I was. So I filed for divorce and moved out. Then I read an article in the Chronicle about how you have a knack for fixing people’s love lives.”

A warning bell went off in Angelina’s head. “Susan, that article was a bunch of hyperbole. I don’t actually fix my client’s love lives.”

“Angelina, don’t be so modest!
 
The woman they interviewed said how after she met with you and followed your advice, she met a wonderful man and now they’re engaged.”

Angelina would have interrupted Susan to inject some reason into the conversation, but Susan was too excited for her to get a word in edgewise.

“She said how one of her friends was going to get a divorce, but after you worked with her, she and her husband worked through their problems and stayed together. Don’t you remember the story?
 
They called you the Feng Shui Cupid.”

Angelina tried not to groan out loud. That article had been dogging her for weeks now. Evidently the entire lovelorn population of the bay area read the San Francisco Chronicle, because she’d received dozens of calls from people asking if they could meet with the Feng Shui Cupid.

She hated that moniker. Her clients also got better jobs and felt healthier after working with her, but no one was calling her a Feng Shui Recruiter or a Feng Shui Doctor.

“Susan, I agree with you, Will does need a lot of help, but I...”

Susan heard her weakness and jumped in for the kill. “Please help him Angelina. You’re my last hope for reconciliation.”