Suddenly Sexy(49)

He was such an idiot. Falling head over heels for Maddie—or anyone—was bound to happen. He'd come home to Melbourne expecting to start his dream business and find the love of his life. With pressure like that, of course he was going to latch onto someone too fast. And with the added inducement of chemical attraction, it was inevitable she’d been the one. He hadn’t stood a chance.

He sighed. In that case, it wasn't really Maddie's fault. Not entirely. He was the one who wanted to believe it was love. He'd made Pheramour work as well as it had.

Someone giggled on the front porch. His mother had returned from her walk with Kevin the ex-con, father of two girls that Sam used to date around the time he called Maddie a nerd.

Jeez, he needed time out. His life was getting way too complicated.

***

At work the following day, Maddie was contemplating love and sex and all the accompanying emotions as she watched Fred and Wilma in their cage. They pressed their little mice noses together, sniffed each other's fur and took it in turns to run on Fred's wheel. They looked like two mice in love. If only her love life could be as simple. Fred probably never called Wilma a nerd. Wilma probably wasn't one.

Beaker stuck his finger through the wire and scratched Wilma's back. "Aren't they cute?"

"Yeah, real cute," said Maddie. "I wish they'd kill each other."

Beaker made kissy noises at the mice. "So Sam didn't take the news well?"

"As well as can be expected."

"That bad, huh?"

"Worse. I'll have to go see him again once Pheramour has completely worn off just to prove to him that what he's feeling isn't real."

He'd be relieved. Thank God she hadn't told him she loved him. What a nightmare that would have been once he snapped out of his Pheramour-induced affection. She'd done too many embarrassing things since seeing Sam again, she didn't need to add that to the list.

She watched the mice for a while then wrote in her notebook that Fred had been running on his wheel for five minutes while Wilma watched. Boy, her life was exciting. Who needed relationship dramas when she could watch two mice courting? "Don't distract her with the back scratch," she said, "she's supposed to be focusing on Fred."

Beaker withdrew his finger.

"So how'd it go with you last night?" she asked, hoping for a distraction.

"Great. Annie couldn't get enough of me." He grinned.

She screwed up her nose. "Too much information. And you were supposed to try it on women who aren't already in love with you."

He slumped against the lab bench. "I know. But I really hate clubs and I wasn't sure where else to meet women."

"And Annie just happened to come around, right?"

He blushed. "Don't tell Miles. I sort of skipped over the particulars when I gave him my report."

Maddie placed her notebook and pen on the bench. "This has been the worst experiment I’ve ever conducted."

Beaker held up his hands in surrender. "Okay, okay, I'll go to a couple of clubs tonight. Jeez, Maddie."

She shook her head. "No, it’s more than that. It’s Pheramour. You were right. Everyone was right, even my sister and that’s not something you’ll ever hear me say again."

Beaker stared at her. "What are you talking about?"

"Pheramour could mean the end of social interaction as we know it. Sexual chaos."

Beaker's face turned scarlet. "Sounds...intesting."

"Messy more like. Imagine everyone running around thinking they're in love with everyone else. What a nightmare!"

His eyes glazed over. "Yeah. Nightmare."

The lab door swung open and Miles stalked in, followed by a feminine replica of himself. The stiff, unsmiling blonde wore an expensive black and white suit, her perfume so overpowering that Fred and Wilma's noses twitched double time and Maddie choked on the cloying scent. Miles introduced her as Hillary Westgath-Smith, Marketing Director of Fleur Elise. Maddie shook her hand. It was limp and cool.

"Maddie and Beaker are the biochemists on the Pheramour project. They're also our pilot users," said Miles, smiling like he'd won lotto and wasn't sharing a cent of it. "Tell Hillary your results."

Maddie did, followed by Beaker.

"That's very encouraging," said Hillary, tapping one palm tree painted, square-tipped fingernail against her shapely thigh.

Maddie gritted her teeth and resisted the urge to snap the nail off. "Hillary," she said, "has your company thought about the ramifications of Pheramour?"

"We expect a ten percent profit in the first quarter, but after an intense marketing push into—"

"I mean the social ramifications. You know, everyone falling in love and having sexual relations with everyone else."