Not the Marrying Kind(15)
Fuck, it was a crazy solution, but with his time frame? He had to go for it.
But he’d ease into it first, mention the idea of needing a wife, see how she reacted. Then he’d let her give her spiel, throw in a mega-cash incentive she couldn’t refuse, and lay the rest of his cards on the table. He wouldn’t accept anything less than a winning hand.
“I know the diva can plan parties, but how good are you at finding me a wife?”
Chapter Five
Divorce Diva Daily recommends:
Playlist: “Never Again” by Nickelback
Movie: Must Love Dogs
Cocktail: Pisco Sour
Beck Blackwood may be sex on legs but the guy was totally loco.
“Pardon?”
“Can you help me find a wife?” He stood, managing to look imposing and appealing simultaneously.
Laughter bubbled in her throat but she swallowed it when he frowned.
He was serious.
Yep, completely loco.
“Sorry, I do parties. Try a dating service.”
“I need a wife fast.” His frown deepened and the pulse in his neck became noticeable.
“Why? You knocked up?” she deadpanned.
His eyes widened in surprise before he grinned. “Anyone you can recommend?”
“For the position of wife?” She pretended to ponder, tapping a fingernail against her bottom lip. “Let me see. Someone who’s crazy enough to marry a guy she doesn’t know?” She snapped her fingers. “Nope. Sorry. Plum out of candidates.”
“You’ve got a smart mouth.”
“Matches the rest of me.” She pointed at her presentation ready to go. “If you’d ever let me show you.”
He hesitated, as if he wanted to push the issue, but acquiesced with a slight nod instead. “Go ahead.”
The guy wanted a wife, pronto. What was he, some kind of desperado? And why the hell would a guy like him need a wife fast anyway? Determinedly ignoring her rampant curiosity, she waited until he sat on one of the low-slung gunmetal gray leather sofas nearby before firing up the first slide.
“As I mentioned earlier, Divorce Diva Daily is all about class.” She hit the button to bring up the next slide. “Humans are ritualistic. We like rituals. They make us feel secure and part of a community. So that’s what a divorce party does. It gives the injured party a way to cope with this difficult transition.”
He sat there, immovable. It didn’t help her nerves.
“A new phase in a person’s life is beginning and a divorce party is a great way to announce your new status.” She made air-quotes with her fingers. “Hey, I’m single and up for new experiences and new relationships.”
He didn’t blink and her disappointment spiraled.
“It’s the perfect way to mark the end of pain and suffering and embrace a new life.”
Still nothing.
She took a deep breath before launching into the finale. “Basically, whatever works we provide. If voodoo dolls, dart throwing, piñata smashing is the way to go, we’ll tailor a party around that. If a classy cocktail party with fab music and amazing food is preferred, we can do that. We’re flexible.”
She wound up her spiel, seeking some kind of positive feedback: the slightest positive nod, a glimmer of a smile, a spark in his eyes.
Nada. The guy had to be a poker player, and a damn good one at that.
“What do you think?” She hated having to ask, but his ominous silence was giving her bad vibes.
He steepled his fingers, rested them on his chest, his gaze penetrating. He was studying her, almost sizing her up.
Just give me the verdict already.
“I think you’ll do nicely.”
Relief made her knees wobble a tad, but Poppy couldn’t shake the feeling she was being sized up for more than her presentation skills. She hated how authoritative guys had the power to make or break someone, but for Sara’s sake, she’d kowtow like the rest of his flunkies. “You liked my pitch?”
He nodded and muttered, “and the rest.”
Resisting the urge to happy dance after nailing a lucrative account that would go a long way to saving Sara’s business, she sat opposite him and shut down her presentation. “I’ll email you a quote with a complete breakdown of costs your twenty grand will cover.”
“Fine,” he said, his stare unwavering and seriously starting to unnerve her. “Do you have a venue in mind?”
Who did he think she was, Wonder Woman? She’d barely had time to put her presentation together after he’d summoned her, let alone research prospective venues.
She’d have to wing it.
“I was waiting to get an idea of crowd size before following up with venues.”
“Smart.”
Then why did she feel the opposite the longer he continued to study her?