Marrying Mister Perfect (9 page)

Standing there, with the familiar comfort of
Lou’s arms wrapped around his waist and her cheek pressed against
his heart, the desire to just stay here and forget all about the
show returned. When had he turned into such a homebody? When had
Lou become such an essential part of each day?

He couldn’t keep using her this way, relying
on her for everything. He had already leaned on her too much.

She was small, tucked against his front, the
top of her head barely clearing his collarbone. Much too small to
shoulder all the weight he had put on her over the last four
years.

“I’ve gotta go,” he said softly, though he
didn’t loosen his hold on her until she slowly started to pull
away. He released her by degrees, his hands sliding down her arms
until only their fingers were linked.

Lou looked up into his eyes, her eyes solemn.
“Have fun,” she commanded soberly.

Jack smiled. “Always.”
You taught me
how.
He stepped off the porch, dragging his feet toward the
limo.

“Jack, wait!”

Lou’s shout stopped him in his tracks. He
turned as she ran down the porch steps, slipping a gold chain from
her wrist as she ran. She grabbed his hand and turned it palm up
between them, dropping her gold charm bracelet onto his palm and
curling his fingers around it. “To remember us by.”

“I could never forget you, Lou.”

Her eyes flicked down to the pavers at their
feet and there was something so sad in her smile it made his chest
ache. “I hope that’s true.”

#

For a second there, he’d almost kissed
her.

Lou stood in the open doorway and watched the
limo depart, watching the street long after it was gone. Some of
the neighbors had come out to see their resident celebrity head off
to Hollywood and Lou waved back when they called out greetings to
her. The kids were inside, engrossed in some game one of the camera
guys had taught them involving dares and shouting numbers. She
wasn’t entirely sure of the rules, so they could probably figure
out a way to use it to burn down the house and she should probably
get back in there, but at the moment she couldn’t make her feet
move.

He was really gone.

She’d made herself smile as he was leaving.
It was for the best. She just kept telling herself that her
still-beating heart wasn’t being ripped out of her chest. All for
the best.

She’d panicked when her attempt to kiss him
on the cheek had almost hit his mouth. Would he think she was
coming on to him? Would he have to let her down easy? Would he pity
her for her feelings for him? Feelings he could never return?

She’d been so relieved when he’d hugged her—a
nice, normal hug. She’d tucked her cheek against his chest and
looped her arms around his waist. For a second, standing there,
hugging the man of her dreams, she’d stopped lying to herself with
thoughts of
for the best
and
I just want his
happiness
. Instead, she held on tight and listened for the
sound of her heart breaking.

You’re the best, Lou. What would I do
without you?

The words echoed, taunting.

What would she do without
him
?

She walked, zombielike to the kitchen, where
all she could do was sit and wonder was if it would even be her
kitchen in six months time. Who would be baking Emma’s muffins
then?

Two months filming, one month
post-production, three months airing and then poof. The end of her
life as she knew it.

At least she’d have plenty of time to get
used to the idea. To make plans. Get started on who she was going
to be.

She could start dating—even if the idea gave
her heartburn. She’d tried eHarmony once, and even gone on a few
dates, but they hadn’t been Jack. And they definitely hadn’t
understood that she didn’t want to leave him. A guy didn’t want to
start a relationship with a girl who already had a family and
refused to leave it.

Which was the exact same situation she’d be
in for the next few months. Emma and TJ would need her more than
ever while Jack was gone. And she wasn’t sure she was ready to date
anyway. Maybe she should take some time away, get some
distance—both figuratively and literally—before she tested out her
heart.

A few months in Europe didn’t sound like a
bad idea. She had some savings, since Jack insisted on paying her a
monthly stipend and all her living expenses were covered. She could
afford the trip she’d always dreamed of taking—but she was afraid
to even think of beginning to plan it. It seemed like every time
she seriously thought about leaving, some disaster struck to keep
her here. The floods in high school. Her mother’s cancer when she
was supposed to be studying abroad—thank God in remission now. And
then Gillian’s death when she’d had that job offer in Paris.

She’d never told Jack about that job.

It was long gone now. She wasn’t sure she
knew how to be that person anymore anyway. Adventurous Lou—who
always seemed to invite disaster when she tried to take an
adventure.

Though maybe this time the disaster had come
first. She’d lost Jack. He was off to be Mister Perfect.

Of course he was. Lou had known he was
perfect from the second they met.

The memory of the first time she saw Jack
stood out in her mind like a scene from a movie—or a set-up for the
TV show—crisper than real recollections should be. He’d walked into
the Latin classroom with his girlfriend, laughing, arm-in-arm, and
both of them radiating the same confidence and charm. From that
first instant, Lou had seen they fit together, but she hadn’t
envied them their picture perfection. She’d just wanted to study
it, admire it like she would a particularly striking portrait.

It was outside her world.

He was going to be valedictorian, a year
ahead of her in school, star of the soccer team—a sport that
wouldn’t threaten a surgeon’s hands—and dating Dana Wright, the
pretty, effervescent girl who starred in all the school shows. So
of course he’d been out of bounds.

He shouldn’t have noticed her at all, but Lou
had helped with costumes on the school’s production of Grease and
Dana was genuinely nice. The kind of girl who remembered people,
made them feel special. She’d introduced Jack to Lou before rushing
off to get to her own class on time.

And he’d smiled.

He’d stepped forward, out of their perfect
two-some tableau, and extended his hand to her. He’d asked her what
she was reading, probably more out of politeness than curiosity,
but when she’d answered he hadn’t just nodded and wandered off.
He’d probed deeper. And the more he asked, the less he seemed like
a portrait to be studied and the more like a guy. A nice guy.

By the time class started, Lou had resigned
herself to having a silly crush on the glorious unattainable
guy.

The high school Latin class was small—only
twelve students, and they often found themselves studying together.
Lou was taking it to help her with her language classes and Jack
because his father thought it would help him in Med School. They
could have just been classmates, but somehow they’d become
friends.

Of course their relationship had instantly
settled into a purely platonic place. He was taken, and he was
completely uninterested in Lou on anything resembling a romantic
level, but that just seemed to give her permission to relax around
him. He dated Dana Wright and Lane Chang, but he
confided
in
her.

He’d gone to Northwestern the following year,
enrolled in the combined bachelors/M.D. program there. He’d thrown
himself into his studies, but thanks to email and Facebook, they
never really lost touch—and she never really lost her crush.

She’d been a senior at the University of
Chicago, studying French, Chinese and Arabic when Jack had invited
her for dinner out of the blue. She’d broken up with her one
serious college boyfriend the previous year during the strain of
her mom’s cancer treatment and though she’d told herself her school
girl crush was long-since dead, it resurrected itself with a
vengeance as she prepared for their dinner together.

A thousand scenarios had played out in her
head. She wasn’t expecting him to drop down on one knee or
anything, but a little making out was
definitely
on the
table. This was the moment when the nature of their relationship
would change. She could feel it.

Then she’d shown up at the restaurant and
Jack hadn’t been alone.

He’d never been very good at
communication.

He’d forgotten to mention that he wanted to
have dinner with her so he could introduce her to his girlfriend.
Gillian Elton-Weiss.

She was a sorority girl from Northwestern,
pretty in a flashy, undeniable way, whereas Lou had always thought
her own appeal was more subtle. Or, you know, invisible.

Jack had always wanted to be a doctor and
Gillian came from a wealthy Chicago family that organized
fund-raisers for half the private hospitals in the state. Match
made in heaven.

Lou hadn’t even been surprised when she heard
three months later that Gillian had gotten knocked up and there was
an emergency wedding planned. She might have cried a little the
night before the wedding, but she’d smiled the next morning from
the pews, beaming so hard she felt her face would split, trying to
force herself to be happy for Jack.

And then she hadn’t had to force herself.

TJ was born and he was a tiny little
miracle.

Jack would meet her for brunch in the city
sometimes, bringing the baby so Gillian could have a break, and Lou
would fuss over him, adoring every tiny, squidgy inch. Somehow with
TJ there, she hadn’t pined or envied. She’d become Jack’s pal, his
confidant, and eventually his best friend again.

When Gillian got pregnant again, she’d been
genuinely happy for him—even as she listened to his fears about how
he was ever going to pay off his med school loans and the mortgage
on the house they’d just bought
and
put away for two college
educations without asking his father for money because he
refused
to break down and ask for money. His life had seemed
set.

Then Gillian had died so suddenly, giving
birth to Emma. Jack had needed her and Lou hadn’t thought
twice.

She moved in with him at first because she
couldn’t imagine
not
helping him when he needed her. She had
never meant to take Gillian’s place—she knew she couldn’t even if
she wanted to. And she hadn’t wanted to. Gillian had been the life
of the party, but Lou had always felt uncomfortable as the center
of attention. They were so different and Lou had always been happy
to be herself—even though she’d known it would mean she would never
be Jack’s type. The man who fell for Gillian clearly wasn’t the man
for Lou.

But living with him, day to day, that initial
crush had come back with a vengeance, sneaking up on her during
quiet nights curled up in front of a movie or in the shared
laughter at the dinner table.

Lou had let herself forget that they didn’t
have a real relationship. They weren’t married and she wasn’t Emma
and TJ’s mom. Filling those roles every day, Lou had latched onto
the illusion that they were a real family. That they were
hers
. Some days she even let herself think he might love her
back, just a little.

That life may have been an illusion, but it
hurt to have it stripped away. Especially if it was only going to
be replaced by another illusion constructed by reality television
producers.

But it was too late now. He was gone. And she
was lost.

Chapter
Nine

From the second Jack left Lou, reality
stepped out of his life.

A limo to the airport, a first class seat to
Los Angeles, another limo picking him up and whisking him away (as
much as anyone could be whisked in LA traffic) to a luxurious
mansion on a hill overlooking the lights of the city—his home for
the next six weeks.

One of the ubiquitous producers met him at
the door and rapidly introduced him to the house’s staff—butler,
chef, and maid, all of whom would be strictly off-camera—before
taking him on a tour that probably broke the land speed record.
While they power-walked through the maze of rooms clearly designed
for every possible entertainment—screening room, bowling alley,
indoor and outdoor pools—the producer rattled off his schedule for
the next few days. It didn’t sound like he would have a second to
himself.

Peppered in with the flood of planned
activities, the producer seemed to delight in dropping hints about
the Suitorettes who would start arriving the next day. Jack was
under strict instructions
not
to sneak over to the adjacent
Suitorette Mansion until after he had officially met each of the
girls on camera—but the producer didn’t seem to have any hesitation
about dropping hints about who he would be meeting.

Apparently the show had scored quite a coup,
landing one mildly famous model, a D-list actress, a former Miss
America, and a popular romance author for this season. There were
also, he was informed, two doctors, one lawyer, and a PR executive
in the lot—just in case he preferred the businessy types. But if he
wanted a more maternal sort, he didn’t have to worry. Among the
initial thirty candidates were no less than four pre-school and
kindergarten teachers—all cute as a button and quite lively—and two
single mothers. But since he’d expressed an interest in adventure,
the show’s producers had secured a few adrenaline junkies—including
an extreme sports star.

The more the producer gushed, the more Jack
wondered what the hell he was doing here.

As soon as the producer slipped out—with a
final suggestion that he enjoy the hot tub, since tonight would be
his last chance to enjoy it
alone
, wink, wink—Jack took the
stairs two at a time up to his bedroom where the maid had already
unpacked his things. He grabbed the phone off the nightstand and
dialed his home number.