Read Marrying Mister Perfect Online

Authors: Lizzie Shane

Tags: #doctor, #international, #widower, #contemporary romance, #reality show, #single dad, #secret crush, #nanny, #reality tv, #friends to lovers

Marrying Mister Perfect (10 page)

As he listened to it ring, he remembered the
time difference and hoped he wasn’t waking up the entire house.

“Hello?”

The sound of Lou’s voice sent a flood of
relief through him. “Is it too late to call?”

“Jack! I didn’t expect to hear from you
tonight.” Her delight coursed through her line, bringing a smile to
his face. She sounded as frazzled by the separation as he was.
“It’s definitely not too late, though the kids are asleep.”

“Good. It’s nice to know bedtime didn’t get
thrown out the window the second I left town.”

She gave a soft laugh and he reveled in the
sound.

“It’s all ice cream for dinner and jumping on
the furniture around here without you,” she teased.

“I miss all the good stuff,” he
mock-grumbled, loving the easy banter, the removal of that distance
that had plagued them for the last couple days.

“I’m sure they have you on a strict
no-ice-cream diet until after all the shirtless shots are in the
can.”

Jack laughed. He climbed onto the massive
California King bed, stacked pillows and reclined against them, the
phone pressed to his ear. “You aren’t far off,” he admitted.
“There’s a private chef here to make sure I’m eating healthy. And a
maid who hung up all my shirts.”

Lou groaned. “That isn’t reality. Those poor
girls are going to be suckered in by your spotless house. It’ll be
quite a shock when they realize what a slob you are when you don’t
have a maid picking up after you.”

“Hey, I’m not a slob.”

“Excuse me, but as someone who has never seen
your bedroom floor without a layer of dirty laundry on it, I beg to
differ.”

“Laundry isn’t a mess. It’s clothes. Most of
‘em are clean.”

“Just because you can’t smell it from across
the room doesn’t make it clean.”

Jack closed his eyes, soothed by the normalcy
of their conversation. They could have been goading one another
from opposite sides of the couch in his living room instead of half
a country apart. It was exactly what he’d needed so he could feel
at home.

“So, other than the maid, anything newsworthy
happening?”

“The house is insane. Wait till you come
visit. The kids are going to go nuts in the pool.”

“I’ll make sure we pack the water wings.” He
could hear the smile in her voice. Then, after a slight hesitation,
she went on. “When do you meet the girls?”

“Wednesday night. They’re flying in from all
over the world.”

“I was talking to Kelly today. She says you
shouldn’t keep any of them around just because they kiss you on the
first night. She says that’s a sure sign of a tramp who’s just
using the show for publicity.”

He laughed. “I’ll keep that in mind. Kelly’s
the expert.”

“She really is making you a
Marrying Mr.
Perfect
instruction manual to help you pick a keeper. I’m under
orders to bring a working draft with me when I come next weekend.
And I’m supposed to relay instructions to you until then so you
don’t pick a lemon.”

“I could use all the help I can get.” Jack
settled deeper into the pillow, closing his eyes and concentrating
on the familiarity of her voice. “Just give me the game plan,
coach.”

They talked into the night, like they often
did at home. All that was missing was their scarred kitchen table
and a couple mugs of decaf.

It didn’t even occur to him until he hung up
the phone hours later that he had spent the first night of his new
adventure trying to feel like he was still back home.

#

Jack stood in a beautiful stone courtyard,
sweating in a three-piece-suit and viselike shoes. He yanked at his
collar, trying to loosen the noose-like tie and a production
assistant detached from the crewpeople clustered at the other side
of the courtyard.

She scurried over to him and jerked the tie
back to quasi-asphyxiation tightness before pulling out a compact
and dabbing at his temples with pancake make-up. “You’re sweating a
lot,” she commented cheerfully. “Nerves?”

“It’s eighty-five degrees and I’m wearing
wool. Sweat is inevitable.”

“It’s a wool blend, actually,” she corrected
in the same irritatingly chipper tone. “Don’t worry. The Suitorette
mansion is air-conditioned down to about fifty degrees so all the
girls will be suitably perky and inclined to cuddle up to you. And
the forecast says it’ll cool off by midnight, so by the time we’re
back out here for the Elimination Ceremony you’ll be grateful for
the jacket. And not to worry, we’ll have space heaters for the
girls in the slinky dresses. It really slows production when we
have to bring in the docs to treat for frostbite.” She grinned.

Jack didn’t think she was kidding. He decided
he wasn’t touching most of that statement and focused on the most
ominous part. “This is going to last past midnight?” It was barely
dusk. His feet were going to be bloody from these damn shoes within
the hour.

“First night’s always an all-nighter.” She
gave his forehead sweat one last pat and tucked the pancake away.
“If you’re feeling drowsy, we’ve got Red Bull by the bucket. Just
give a wave and we’ll bring you one. We strongly advise against
alcohol on the first night, at least for you. Though you can have
one to calm your nerves if you need it. The girls will be drinking,
of course, but we want our Mr. Perfect to have a clear head as much
as possible tonight.”

He’d worked his share of all-nighters at the
hospital, but he had a feeling tonight was going to be more
exhausting than his ER rotation.

Miranda clacked across the courtyard,
ubiquitous tablet in hand. “Sexy Jack! I think we’re about set
inside. Are you ready to meet the girl of your dreams and begin the
journey to your happily ever after?”

“Absolutely.” Jack forced a smile and a
degree of enthusiasm he couldn’t make himself feel.

“Excellent!” Miranda beamed. She seemed
genuinely happy today. High on the excitement of the show’s launch
or maybe she’d crushed a third world country this morning on her
quest to world domination. “I know we’ve been over this a million
times and Josh will be going over everything with you step by step,
but just to refresh, our host Josh Pendleton will greet you out
here then escort you inside where each of the girls has been set up
in a room that represents them in some way—musical girls will have
a piano, that sort of thing. They get one minute—exactly sixty
seconds, and we will be counting—to impress you and then it’s off
to the next room. No dawdling, no matter how they tempt you!” she
giggled. “This part of the show is all about first impressions.
Like speeddating on steroids. Your job is just to live in the
moment and enjoy yourself. And remember not to look at or refer to
the cameras, okay? We’re going to be as unobtrusive as possible,
with only one camera following you and a three-man set-up in the
rooms with the girls. And don’t you worry, they’ll give you plenty
of space.”

Jack managed not to openly scoff at that. As
if five feet of clearance was going to give him the opportunity for
an
intimate
first meet.

“I know it seems impossible now, but by next
week you won’t even notice us.” She bounced in her heels—definitely
high on something, or maybe it was just the thrill of the show.
Miranda did love her job. “After the First Meets, we’ll collect all
the girls together for the first challenge. They’ll think they have
to write you a little time-capsule note that you will open together
on the last date, if they make it that far, but really there won’t
be enough capsules for everyone and it’s a chance to see how they
handle that. And how they interact with one another since that will
also be the first time the girls will be seeing one another. You
should be able to observe a lot from the spy room we’ve set up for
you.”

Jack’s stomach turned a little at the idea of
spying on his possible future wife, but he reminded himself that on
this show nothing was ever private.

“After that there will be a brief cocktail
party, when all the girls get a chance to vie for your attention
and then it’s on to the Elimination Ceremony. You’ll cut eight
tonight. Don’t worry about names, we’ll help you if you forget.
Just let yourself be in the moment. We’ve gathered thirty of the
most extraordinary women in America for you, you lucky
bastard.”

Jack forced a smile, but he didn’t feel
lucky. He felt trapped. He reached into his pocket and ran his
thumb over the charm bracelet. Lou’s face rose in his mind, along
with Emma’s, TJ’s and visions of home. What was he doing here?

Before he could wave the white flag and call
it all off, Miranda was striding away, off to conquer Rome and
someone he couldn’t see was yelling, “Cue Josh!”

The former game-show-host Josh Pendleton
stepped out of the Suitorette mansion with his overly suave smile
firmly in place.

“Welcome to a new season of
Marrying
Mister Perfect
!” he exclaimed, and Jack wasn’t sure whether the
host was talking to him or the home audience. Pendleton launched
into his spiel, strolling across the courtyard with a measured gait
so he reached Jack’s side at the right moment in his speech. He ran
through the agenda for the night for the cameras and Jack tried to
remember to beam and look like Mr. Perfect rather than a deer in
headlights.

Everything seemed to be moving at light
speed. Before he knew it he was being guided along a garden path
along to the pool where the first Suitorette waited for him.
Pendleton dropped back, waving him ahead, and Jack stepped through
an archway and onto the tiki-torch lit pool deck.

And standing in the middle of the flickering
light, a golden vision posed with a sultry smile in place on her
lush lips.

Hello, Marilyn
. Jack’s higher brain
functions melted.

Playmate curves were barely contained by the
short, shimmery, spandex-tight dress. Suddenly Jack felt nervous
for a whole new reason and his feet stalled. She didn’t seem to
mind. She strolled toward him, full mouth open slightly, her
heavily-shadowed eyes never leaving his as her platinum blonde hair
swished around her hips. The smoky intensity of her gaze had him
shifting nervously in his excruciating shoes. This woman was too
gorgeous. Movie-star hot and focused like a laser beam on him. He
felt like he’d been bodyslammed by her sheer sex appeal. What had
he signed himself up for?

She paused in front of him, licked her lips
and smiled a slow, sensuous invitation of a smile. “Hello, Mister
Perfect. I’m Katya.”

 

 

Chapter
Ten

 

Lou was not waiting by the phone. She
wasn’t
. Just because it was Friday morning. The morning
after Jack’s first meeting with his dream women. Just because she
was desperately hoping he would call her and tell her they were all
awful and he was coming home…

She most certainly was not waiting by the
phone.

The kids were at school and Lou lingered in
the kitchen—because she was washing the sticky oatmeal bowls from
breakfast, of course. It had nothing to do with a need to remain
within lunging distance of the landline. The cell phone was tucked
into the back pocket of her jeans.

She plunged her hands into the water,
swirling the sponge around inside an already spotless bowl.

It was that damn kiss. Their accidental
goodbye kiss haunted her.

Had she squandered an opportunity there?
Should she have taken the chance to kiss him properly? Sure, Jack
had never thought of her
that way
, but that didn’t
necessarily mean he never would. Didn’t the best relationships grow
out of friendships? People were always saying that. There had to be
some truth in it.

If she could just get him to stop thinking of
her as Lou the buddy, Lou the friend, maybe she still had a
chance.

Provided he hadn’t already fallen head over
heels at first sight with a supermodel he first laid eyes on last
night. For all Lou knew he was in Vegas with Miss Perfect right
this instant, getting married by Elvis in front of a row of cameras
and a dozen giddy television executives. If only he would
call

The house phone rang. Lou dove for it,
splashing soapy water all over herself. “Jack?” she gasped
breathlessly into the receiver.

“He still hasn’t called?” The sound of
Kelly’s voice sent Lou’s spirits plummeting. “Drat. I wanted all
the gossip. He met them last night, didn’t he?”

“That was the plan.”

“You sound awful. Don’t worry. He’ll be
great. He was born to be Mr. Perfect.”

“I know.” Which did nothing to raise Lou’s
spirits. There was nothing like being reminded the man was
completely out of her league.

“You wanna come over? I’m making double fudge
brownies. Chocolate therapy.”

Lou didn’t want to go anywhere until Jack
called, but admitting that to Kelly wasn’t high on her wish
list.

Though Kelly was the expert on
Marrying
Mr. Perfect
. Maybe she could help Lou figure out how to
sabotage the show so Jack would have to come home and fall in love
with her instead.

Yeah. Like that was ever going to happen.

“I don’t know, Kel—” The phone beeped against
her ear. “Oh God, Kelly, that’s the call waiting! I’ve gotta
go.”

“Call me ba—”

Lou hit the button to connect the new call,
cutting Kelly off mid-word. “Hello?”

“Lou.”

Her knees turned to jelly and she sank down
onto the nearest chair, melting into a puddle of relief. “Jack. How
are you? You just missed the kids. They’ve already left for
school.”

After a slight hesitation, he said, “Yeah,
I’m still getting used to the time zones.”

He sounded wrecked. She glanced at the clock,
quickly doing the math. “It’s gotta be seven fifteen in the morning
there. Don’t tell me you haven’t been to sleep yet?”

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