Total pages in book: 102
Estimated words: 97199 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 486(@200wpm)___ 389(@250wpm)___ 324(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 97199 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 486(@200wpm)___ 389(@250wpm)___ 324(@300wpm)
Our contract is clear. I’ll do what I can to help them become the best version of themselves. If need be, I’ll drop myself into the lives of the women they’re interested in. This allows me to gain valuable insight into what their potential partners like and are looking for in a long-term relationship.
Often, I don’t have to step foot near the woman because there’s already an established relationship at play. In those cases, I work solely with my client to up his game so he truly understands the importance of being the best partner he can be.
Things don’t always work out as planned, though, and my clients are aware of that. Although there’s a clause detailing that I don’t offer refunds, I can’t take money from a man who has no intention of trying to improve himself. If he’s dead set on being an asshole, I’ll void the contract, hand him back the small fortune he gave me and move on.
“Roberto is the best there is,” I say.
“That he is,” Sheila agrees with a soft nod. “I’m a little surprised to find you here. I thought you had a meeting on the Upper East Side that started fifteen minutes ago.”
“The client delayed it,” I tell her. “I’ll head that way in an hour to see if he’s free.”
Most of the men I meet with have high-pressure jobs with schedules that can shift on a dime. I’m flexible, which is why I work weekends and evenings. I’ve often taken a meeting in the middle of the night if that’s what works for the client.
“When are you planning on heading in the direction of Opal Waverly again?” she questions as she walks toward the closet in the corner of my office. She opens it to hang up the suit jacket. “It’s not like you to move at a snail’s pace.”
Since it’s only been four days since the soft launch party, I smile. “I saw her on Friday night. I’ll run into her again tomorrow.”
I plan on doing that intentionally. I’ll hang out at the café where Chelsie works until I take a walk around the block again and again with the hope that I’ll come face to face with Opal.
“Good.” She grins. “I think that might be one of our quicker cases.”
Surprised by that, I tilt my chin up. “Why do you think that?”
“Percy is good-looking, he’s successful, and he does volunteer work.” She pauses to fan herself. “You know how hot I think that is.”
I do know. It’s how she met her husband, Orson. They both showed up at a food pantry drive. The rest is history.
Percy’s volunteer work involves giving virtual financial advice to handpicked candidates. I’m not convinced he’s participating in those sessions for any reason other than to find unpaid interns for his firm.
“Percy’s all right,” I grumble.
She laughs. “If you say so. It’s your job to make him better than all right in Opal Waverly’s eyes, so you need to work on that, although I have no idea what you can do to improve a man like that.”
“Does your husband know you’re crushing on a client, Sheila?”
Her smile radiates, lighting up her entire face. “He reminds me of my husband, William. If Percy is like my Orson in every way, Opal is a very lucky lady.”
Jealousy creeps over me, but I bite it back immediately with a reminder that Percy is a client, and he hired me to help give him a chance with Opal. We both signed on the dotted line that spelled out our roles. He wants Opal to be his, and I’m the man who will give him a fighting chance to make that his reality.
“Did you happen to look at the file I sent you this morning?” she questions. “The prospective client’s last name is Grogan. He sent you an email over the weekend. He was referred by Norman…”
“I saw it,” I cut her off.
“Good.” She nods. “I could sense the longing in the email. That man has a way with words.”
Mr. Grogan has a way with women, too, and from where I’m standing, that’s not a good thing. He recently separated from wife number six, so until I figure out what the hell is going on with his string of broken marriages, I’m not sending him into another woman’s life so she can potentially become ex-wife number seven.
I don’t need to sit down with the man to deduce that the problem may just be him.
“I’ll take care of setting up a preliminary meeting with him,” I tell Sheila, letting her off the hook for adjusting my schedule.
I like to control that. I appreciate everything she does for me, but I’ve learned how to balance a fair number of clients at once so they all get the time they want and deserve.
“Orson Junior’s nanny has an appointment, so I’m going home for the rest of the day,” she says. “If you need anything, Aleena is at her desk.”