She rolled her eyes. “That’s ridiculous, we live for it.”
Ned made a mental note to go back to bodily compliments. “Do I get one more shot?”
“Last one. This is the most important. If we got in a fight, how would you apologize?”
Finally. There was no way to get this one wrong. “I’d tell you straight out I was sorry and that I’d work on fixing what I can so we don’t have the same issue in the future.” Hello, Self magazine. Communication and stating a verbal apology was a number one priority with women.
Debra stuffed her cards into her purse and gave him a look. “Why the hell would I care if you’re sorry? Actions speak louder than words. I want jewelry. Sorry, Ned, you’re just not for me.”
Ding.
By the time he hit table twenty, he was aggravated, tired, thirsty, and disillusioned. Most cared about his appearance, money, or man toys, and all he wanted to do was get serious and leave all the junk behind. Despite weeks of reading women’s magazines, he’d flunked every five-minute session.
Finally, he reached the last date. The woman seemed nice enough, but he’d been here before. No more. This time, he was running the date his way.
“Hi, I’m Bernadette.”
He leaned forward, placed his elbows on the table, and narrowed his gaze. “Hi, I’m Ned. When will you be ready to be married and have kids?”
The woman jerked back. She seemed shocked, but he bet she was just pretending. He hadn’t met a female without an agenda this whole night. “Umm, I’m not sure. I want to be in love with the right person. Then marriage and kids can come later.”
Hmm, good answer. Ned raised the stakes. “How long? A month? Two? You’re already past thirty, and statistics show once your eggs reach thirty-five, your fertility starts declining, and chances of a healthy baby decrease by forty percent.”
Was that a moan? He was only citing statistics straight from Glamour or Self. He forgot which one. Her lower lip trembled but he had her full attention. “I’m only twenty-nine,” the woman whispered.
“Right on the precipice. I would rethink your plan if you want to birth at least two children. You do want children, right?”
Another small moan. “Yes, I’ve always dreamed of having children.”
Finally. A woman who knew what she wanted. He relaxed. “Me, too. I think we have similar philosophies. It’s been a tough night, but I’m glad we finally met. I think I’m supposed to wait till the end, but since this worked out so well, how about dinner Friday night?”
Ding.
The woman pressed a trembling hand to her mouth. She blinked rapidly. Were those tears? What was going on?
He opened his mouth to question her, but a vision in hot pink swarmed into his line of sight.
Dream woman.
She was even more stunning close up. Her lips held just a touch of glossy moisture, and his nostrils kicked in at the scent of sandalwood and cinnamon. She laid a hand on Bernadette’s arm and whispered something in her ear. Bernadette nodded, swiped at her eyes, and stood up. Dream woman patted her back, pointed her in the other direction, and watched her walk away.
“Hey, we were setting up a date.”
Dream woman swung around and met his gaze head on.
He stilled. Those golden eyes sucked him in deep and held on tight. He struggled for breath, entranced by the white-hot heat and fury beating from her in waves. Deliberately, she placed her palms flat on the table and leaned in.
“I want to talk to you.”
His spirits perked up. “Great. Did the clock start?”
“Forget the clock. I need to finish up a few things and then I’d like to have a chat. I’ll meet you at the diner next door in ten minutes.”
No way. She was interested in him? Odd, she looked a bit intense for having just asked him out, but he’d go anywhere with her. Maybe this horrific night would turn out alright. “Don’t I need to fill out my request sheet first?”
Was it possible she looked even more furious? Her expression fascinated him, all sharp angles and soft skin. Funny, if you took away each of her features, it seemed as if her face was too big for her body, but when put together, she had movie-star looks. Like Julia Roberts. A long, gazelle-like structure, highly cut cheekbones, thick brows, huge eyes. “I’m sure that sheet won’t be needed. I’ll see you at the diner.”
She pulled back, swiveled on her four-inch pink heels, and disappeared into the crowd.
Ned dumped the sheet. Other than Bernadette, the event had been a bust. But his date with Dream Woman was everything he’d hoped for. Who needed long term if he could enjoy her for one perfect night? He’d have just enough time to pop another breath mint and rub a tissue over his orange face to see if he could lighten it up.
Ned headed toward the diner.
two
KENNEDY SIPPED HER coffee and studied the walking disaster across the table.
It took a while to calm down her client, but she’d convinced poor Bernadette that the man was joking and then hooked her up with Brian, who’d been making moony eyes at her all night. Speed-dating events were a bit . . . touchy. Some clients loved the quick pace and even quicker decision making. Many thrived on sheer dating stress and adrenaline, rising to the top and scoring the best overall first impression.
Others tanked.
Like this guy.
She took her time and let him stew. He probably thought he was going to score with her, but she had a completely different intention for this meeting. As the top recruiter and makeover expert at the Kinnections matchmaking agency, she’d come across various types of men and learned the fine art of patience. She helped them find true love by using a mixture of encouragement, motivation, empathy, and teaching behavior modification.
But this bozo had broken all the rules, and she wasn’t allowing him back into society without an attempt to protect future women. The harsh lights of the diner emphasized the garish tone to his skin. Dear God, he was a living Dorito. He waited patiently for her to speak, but she noticed he grabbed a few napkins to wipe down the white Formica counter before settling his elbows on the edge. Great, a germaphobe to boot. “What’s your name?” she asked.
“Ned.”
“Hi, Ned, I’m Kennedy. Can I ask you a question?”
“You can ask me anything.”
“What did you hope to accomplish tonight?”
He blinked behind thick black-framed glasses. Usually, she loved a good designer frame with a funky style, but these were just wrong. Oversize, squared, they dominated his face and swallowed his eyes. “I don’t understand. I’m looking to meet a woman who’s right for me.”