More Than Perfect(23)
“Dear God,” Angie said faintly. “No wonder he can’t find a wife.”
Jett snorted. “Ya think? Maybe Justice should just build him a frigging robot instead of driving Uncle P. crazy. I think it’d be easier. Don’t suppose you know anyone who fits Mr. Devlin’s criteria? Unlikely, I realize, considering I don’t think she exists. Maybe in some male-oriented fantasyland, but not in any real world I’m familiar with.”
The off-the-cuff question sparked an idea. A crazy, impulsive, totally outrageous idea, so unlike her, the audacity of it threatened to steal her breath away. Not only would it provide Mikey with a mother and potentially assist Lucius if the Ridgeways sued for custody, but it would give her a shot at her own female-oriented fantasyland.
Angie sat there, the possibility dangling before her like a bright, shiny diamond, just begging for her to snatch it up. Why not give it a shot? Why not take the chance? The risk, she was quick to correct herself. A very serious risk that could—most likely would—lose her a job she adored. Granted, if it worked out, she and Lucius would both have what they wanted. And if it didn’t… Well, she planned to quit her job when he married, anyway, so what did she really have to lose?
“You still there?” Jett demanded.
“Still here. I was thinking… What if I did know someone who would be the perfect wife for Lucius?” she asked.
“Get out. You know someone who can cook, clean, do the party thing and take care of a baby? Seriously? Like a real human woman?”
“Not exactly.” She stared down at Mikey and cuddled him closer. “We might have to alter the woman’s abilities just a tad.”
“Uh-huh.” Cynicism replaced excitement. “How much is a tad?”
“Well, totally, since this person can’t cook or clean. At least, not on the scale you’re suggesting.” Yet. “The parties might be on the table. And she flat-out adores Mikey, even if she’s a bit inexperienced when it comes to babies.”
“Well, thanks for getting my hopes up for nothing,” Jett complained. “Who is this person and why would I pick someone so completely wrong?”
Angie took a deep breath. “The person is…well…me. And I don’t think I’m wrong at all. In fact, I think I’m the perfect choice.”
Rain beat down on them for the rest of the week in a seemingly unending gray curtain. Friday, the sun made a brave reappearance, battling back the storm clouds, and by late that afternoon gained strength, flowing triumphantly through the window behind Lucius’s desk. Streams of soft gold flooded the room and he tilted the printout he held to catch the tidal wave of light. He read the name the computer had kicked out for the umpteenth time.
“How is this possible, Pretorius?” he demanded in disbelief, his hand tightening around his cell phone. “Answer me that. How?”
“I don’t know. I’m as stunned as you are.”
“You programmed the damn thing. Are you telling me you don’t know how your own program works?”
“It must have been the result of this latest tweak in parameters,” Pretorius insisted doggedly. “But she’s your perfect apprentice/wife.”
The name of the “perfect” woman danced across the page in a taunting tango. Angelique Colter, Angelique Colter, his dammittohell PA, Angelique “Angie” Colter. “How was her name even picked up by your program?”
“Not sure, but I can guess,” Pretorius said cautiously.
“Fine,” Lucius snarled. “Guess. But make it an accurate one or I swear I’ll reach through my computer and peel your circuits right off your mainframe. Then I’ll get really mean. Now explain.”
Pretorius erupted into speech. “It’s possible that the new program, the program designed to find you the perfect wife, was accidentally connected to the old program, the one designed to find you the perfect PA. Apparently, Ms. Colter is an acceptable candidate for both positions.”
“Both.”
“Exactly. I guess that makes her more than perfect, doesn’t it?” Pretorius gave a quick laugh, then cleared his throat when Lucius didn’t join in. “So the real question is… Would you prefer her for your PA, or for your wife?”
For some reason that one simple question hit Lucius like a towering wave, sweeping his feet out from under him and tumbling him over and over. “I’ll get back to you,” he said and disconnected the call.