Something to Talk About(36)

"Not important-are you nuts? This guy could be connected, 'if ya know what I mean'," Genie said, mimicking Vinnie's accent. "And you don't think that's important?"

Rachel took a deep breath, striving for calm. "Now, Genie, we don't know that he's Mafia. It's rather nice that he has such a supportive family. You're letting your imagination run away with you. Besides, I think he's kind of cute."

Tapping the PLAY arrow to release the video and send it into motion again, Rachel ignored Genie's exasperated glare and pretended interest in whatever gem of wisdom Vinnie mumbled as he continued his monologue.

"Expectations..." He shrugged. "Da chick I go wit has to look good on my arm, so da other guys can see what a babe she is when I take her out."

The computer screen turned black as the interview ended. Rachel clicked to minimize the online video and leaned forward to take two more sheets of paper from the stack sitting on the coffee table. "Here, let's fill out these evaluation forms. After we watch all the interviews and complete the evaluations, I'll enter the information into a spreadsheet." 

"I still can't believe you made up an evaluation form to help you choose your date."

"Are you going to help me or not?" Rachel asked impatiently. "We have three more candidates to review from the dating service. I want to be as objective about this as possible."

"Okay, okay. Don't get your panties in a wad," Genie wiped butter from the popcorn off her fingers. "Give me that paper." Grabbing a pen, she began to mark the sheet.

Rachel tapped her own pen thoughtfully against her lip as she read through the questions. Some were straightforward questions about physical attributes like hair and eye color, that required an A through D answer. The rest were subjective, and asked for rankings between one and five. Questions like, "Does this candidate appear athletic?" or "Does the candidate give the impression of mental stability?" Rachel congratulated herself on devising a clinical and objective list of questions. They would help narrow the search for the perfect candidate considerably.

Genie slapped her form on the coffee table. "I've gotta hand it to you, Rache" she said wonderingly. "You're the only person I know who could reduce the characteristics of physical attraction to a multiple-choice test."

Rachel grimaced. She knew her friend wasn't about to let another opportunity to nag pass her by. Genie wasn't wild about her plan. One look in Genie's sympathetic gaze and Rachel thought, Oh, boy, here it comes.

"Rachel, won't you reconsider?" Genie pleaded. "This just doesn't seem right. Your plan doesn't take into consideration the human factors. I mean, just look at all the candidates we've gone through tonight. Tell me there's even one guy you would feel comfortable hopping into bed with, hmmm?"

Dotting the last 'I' and crossing the last 'T' on her evaluation form, Rachel delayed answering. Instead, she picked up her planner and checked Vinnie's name off her list then looked at her best friend. "Genie, the simple fact is, I'm determined to have a child. I'm thirty years old, and in all that time, I've never found a man I would like to be tied to for the rest of my life. I need a child, but I don't necessarily want the complications of a husband."

"But those can be the best complications in life," Genie said softly, her brown eyes reflecting her concern.

"Maybe for women who have the time and patience. I have neither that I am willing to lavish on a man. I want to concentrate all my attention on a baby." Rachel searched for the next name on her list. "I've made up my mind. This is the only solution that makes sense for me. Shall we continue?" she asked, without looking up from her notebook. She heard Genie sigh.

"Just let me finish my evaluation of the Italian Noodle."

"The Italian Noodle?" Rachel's eyebrows raised, and she couldn't resist turning to face her friend.

Genie shrugged her shoulders in silent surrender. For now, at least, the subject of the advisability of "The Plan" would wait. Thank goodness. It was beginning to wear on Rachel's nerves.

"We have to have some way of keeping these guys straight in our minds-so Vinnie's the Italian Noodle," Genie said. "I've given them all nicknames."

"Fine. Good idea." Rachel exhaled in relief, glad her friend was going along with her and letting the subject of single parenthood drop for the moment.

While Genie completed her form, Rachel poured more wine into both of their glasses and swiped the screen for the next interview. "Here we go."

"No, wait. I'm not ready...and I'm not sure I'll ever be," Genie ended, mumbling under her breath. She grabbed the wine bottle in front of her and topped off both glasses on the table.



       
         
       
        

Rachel waited patiently while Genie took a deep gulp of her drink and settled back against the couch cushions. "Roll 'em, Rache. I have to admit, this is a lot more fun than watching some Barbie flirt with half a dozen men-damn unfair, that."

Rachel tapped the screen, moved her finger to the right, zipping to the start of the next interview. A hulking specimen of a man appeared on the monitor. She sat forward, her interest captured. He looked like an actor in an ad for exercise equipment, and he definitely looked...healthy.

Wearing a muscle shirt, he stood before the camera, with his hands on his slim hips, displaying bulging biceps and broad muscular shoulders. His skin was a beautifully tanned golden brown and glowed with a slight sheen as though he had just applied a layer of tanning oil. His blond hair was cut close on the sides and was spiked on top. He stared out of the screen with a stunning pair of ice blue eyes-directly at them.

"Ooh-la-la!." Genie let out a shrill wolf whistle. "Now we're talking."

Then the gorgeous hunk opened his mouth...

Genie moaned, echoing Rachel's sharp disappointment.

"Hi, I'm Marion Hohenberger." The man's voice was high, squeaky and totally incongruous with his appearance.

Genie squealed then hiccoughed. "He sounds like a mouse!"

"Who would have thought such a perfect body would be stuck with such a wimpy voice?" Rachel groaned.

"Maybe, too many steroids?"

"Yup, that's my guess." Rachel reached for her glass, sure that a little alcohol might improve her first impression of the muscled wonder.

Genie lifted her wineglass at the same time in salute. "Here's to Mighty Mouse."

"I used to be a little guy...," Marion continued.

"Yeah, right," snorted Genie.

"...until I found the Royal Academy Health Spa. I built this physique, and now own my own franchise, with the spa."

"Hmmm, I'll have to keep him in mind," Rachel said thoughtfully. "I have a client who sells weight equipment. Mighty Mouse here would look dynamite in my client's ads."

"But that voice." Genie's incredulous expression caused Rachel to smile.

"You'd be amazed at what they can do to sweeten a voice in a sound studio."

The muscleman turned to the side and curled his forearm toward his shoulder. He posed like a Mr. Universe contestant, displaying his muscles to their best advantage. "Even though I'm thirty-eight, I have the body of a twenty-five-year-old."

"And the brain of an eight-year-old." Genie chortled.

"Genie," Rachel swatted at her friend. "Give the guy a chance." 

"Really, Rache, intelligence goes a long way in this world. You should have stipulated intelligence to that agency."

"You're letting your prejudices run away with you again. He owns his own business; he has to have some smarts."

"I'm an entrepreneur and personal trainer," Marion droned on.

"Surprise, surprise," Genie continued her running commentary.

"My hobby is body building. My expectations in a woman are simple: she should be in good shape, enjoy physical exercise, and she should be a vegetarian and non-smoker."

The image faded to black as Marion's video ended.

Sighing, Rachel handed Genie an evaluation form and automatically began filling hers out. "Well, I only fit his last requirement, non-smoker. I wonder why they even bothered forwarding his link to me."

Genie glanced over at Rachel, who sat on the couch in a pair of shorts and a T-shirt. Eyeing her as if she were a steer at a cattle auction, Genie began to list her attributes. "Oh, I don't know. You keep yourself in pretty good shape. You have toned muscles, not weight-lifter size, but still you're firm. Your skin isn't sagging anywhere that I can see, so you are aging well for a thirty-year-old hag."

Rachel picked up a pillow and tossed it at Genie. "Okay, okay, you can stop rubbing it in about my age. Just because you're a twenty-nine-year-old baby, doesn't mean you can pick on me. Remember, you'll be thirty next year. If you don't behave yourself, I'll paste your birthday notice on every billboard in town."

"I plan on being twenty-nine the rest of my life, so there." Genie stuck out her tongue and threw the pillow back at Rachel.

"Just finish the form, while I play the next video." Rachel swiped again and entered another name in her planner, then settled in with her glass of wine to watch the next candidate.