Total pages in book: 92
Estimated words: 87513 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 438(@200wpm)___ 350(@250wpm)___ 292(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 87513 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 438(@200wpm)___ 350(@250wpm)___ 292(@300wpm)
Michaela could have told her that Troy’s sporty background had also given him the physique of an Olympian. And he had the looks of an Olympic god. But she never liked to make a match based purely on physique or looks. Alice was a beautiful woman—drop-dead gorgeous, in fact. She was also intelligent, accomplished, philanthropic, and a bit picky about the men she wanted to be matched with.
But this was good, right? Alice didn’t want to go out with him. Michaela would have to keep searching. Maybe she’d never find anyone. But what if the next lady she found was over the moon about a date with Troy? Maybe it was better that he go out with someone like Alice, who was on the fence about him.
Oh God, she couldn’t be jealous. She had to make this date work.
Instead of touting Troy’s physical attributes, Michaela said, “You know he owns a huge sports gear conglomerate. He might be athletic, but he didn’t get where he is without being brainy too.” She specifically used Alice’s descriptor. “And you don’t get to be an Olympic gold medalist without being smart, dedicated, and goal-oriented.”
She finally got Alice’s agreement. “All right, I’ll go on one date. But if he’s full of himself, I’m out of there.”
Michaela was almost affronted. “I would never take on a client who’s full of himself.” Then she added, “Or herself.”
Alice laughed. “You’re right. I’m being full of myself.”
Michaela said with a smile in her voice, “I never said that.”
She could almost see Alice pointing a finger at her. “You didn’t need to say it. Go ahead and make the date. Let me check my calendar.” She was silent for a few seconds before she came back. “I’m free on Thursday. But the weekend is completely booked. If Thursday doesn’t work, we’ll have to do something next week. Oh, and don’t make it too early. Maybe around eight.”
They ended the call, and Michaela’s hand hovered over the phone. She should call Troy now, but she glanced at her watch. It was late morning. She didn’t want to disturb his lunch hour. Maybe it would be best to call him that afternoon. Although the date was Thursday, she had no idea about his schedule.
Michaela knew she was making excuses. She’d matched him with a beautiful, accomplished woman. And yet… the thought of Troy in the arms of a gorgeous woman like Alice made her a little crazy. She didn’t want to analyze why.
Because she couldn’t be jealous. She wouldn’t be jealous.
But perhaps she needed a caffeine fix before she tackled the phone call. Yes, that was the ticket. She left her office to head to her favorite coffee place, Santa Cruz 9.
Coffee was her Dutch courage. Where did that saying come from? Why did only the Dutch have courage?
The order line was long. The coffeehouse didn’t have an order-ahead feature like the big chains, but she liked to shop and eat local. And Santa Cruz 9 was as local as you could get. She spent the time in line scrolling through her email, deleting spam—she never sent spam to a separate folder, to ensure she’d never miss anything.
She’d started on her subscription emails, deciding which she would save for later and which she would delete, when she had a faint olfactory fantasy. As though she could smell Troy Harrington’s attractive male scent. It triggered a memory of how his touch felt on her elbow, her arm, her back as he guided her. How, after she’d had more than one glass of champagne at the gallery on Saturday, she’d begun to imagine how it would feel if he touched her in other places. Her skin seemed to heat, and her body seemed to melt.
Then his voice burrowed deep inside her. “Imagine meeting you here.”
And there he was. The fantasy man of only moments before. And, if she were honest, the fantasy man filling her dreams lately.
But she kept her composure. “What a coincidence.” Was it? Or had she come here because she’d hoped to see him?
She held up a finger as the barista asked for her order. Troy actually seemed to wait patiently. When she was done, he said politely, “I haven’t finished my coffee yet. Will you join me?”
Maybe this was karma. She’d found all sorts of excuses not to call him right away, and here he was. She had to tell him about the date. Was it better to talk face-to-face? Grrr. Stop overthinking, Michaela. “That would be nice.”
Yet it felt as though a swarm of bees were buzzing in her belly. She was a professional, however, and didn’t show him even a scintilla of emotion.
Sitting across from him with his coffee cup on the table between them, she took the plunge. She pasted a smile on her face she hoped didn’t look fake. “I found the perfect date for you.”