Maybe I should let my faithful manservant answer the rest of your questions, since he seems to have all the answers."
"I'm saving her time," Bodie replied. "She brings you a redhead, you'll give her grief. Look for women with class, Annabelle. That's most important. The sophisticated types who went to boarding schools and speak French. She has to be the real thing because he can spot a phony a mile away. And he likes them athletic."
"Of course he does," she said dryly. "Athletic, domestic, gorgeous, brilliant, socially connected, and pathologically submissive. It'll be a snap."
"You forgot hot." Heath smiled. "And defeatist thinking is for losers. If you want to be a success in this world, Annabelle, you need a positive attitude. Whatever the client wants, you get it for him. First rule of a successful business."
"Uh-huh. What about career women?"
"I don't see how that would work."
"The kind of potential mate you're describing isn't going to be sitting around waiting for her prince to show up. She's heading a major corporation. In between those Victoria's Secret modeling gigs."
He lifted an eyebrow. "Attitude, Annabelle. Attitude.
Mots clés humor men type matchmaker
You'll need to do a better job, Annabelle. No more dates like the first one tonight."
"Agreed. And no more making me sit through your Power Matches introductions, either. As you so wisely pointed out, helping Portia Powers isn't in my best interests."
"Then why are you still trying to talk me into seeing Melanie again?"
"Hunger makes me weird."
"You got rid of the last one in fourteen minutes. Well done. I'm rewarding you by letting you sit in on all the introductions from now on."
She nearly choked on an ice cube. "What are you talking about?"
"Exactly what I said.
Mots clés humor arrogance hunger matchmaker
I paid you five thousand instead and promised the balance only if you made the match. As it turns out, this is your lucky day because I've decided to write you the full check, whether the match comes from you or from Portia. As long as I have a wife and you've been part of the process, you'll get your money." He toasted her with his beer mug. "Congratulations."
She put down her fork. "Why would you do that?"
"Because it's efficient."
"Not as efficient as having Powers handle her own introductions. You're paying her a fortune to do exactly that."
"I'd rather have you."
Her pulse kicked. "Why?"
He gave her the melty smile he must have been practicing since the cradle, one that made her feel as though she was the only woman in the world. "Because you're easier to bully. Do we have a deal or not?"
"You don't want a matchmaker. You want a lackey."
"Semantics. My hours are erratic, and my schedule changes without warning. It'll be your job to cope with all that. You'll soothe ruffled feathers when I need to cancel at the last minute. You'll keep my dates company when I'm going to be late, entertain them if I have to take a call. If things are going well, you'll disappear. If not, you'll make the woman disappear. I told you before. I work hard at my job. I don't want to have to work hard at this, too."
"Basically, you expect me to find your bride, court her, and hand her over at the altar. Or do I have to come on the honeymoon, too?"
"Definitely not." He gave her a lazy smile. "I can take care of that all by myself.
Mots clés humor romance arrogance matchmaker
When did my house turn into a hangout for every grossly overpaid, terminally pampered professional football player in northern Illinois?"
"We like it here," Jason said. "It reminds us of home."
"Plus, no women around." Leandro Collins, the Bears' first-string tight end emerged from the office munching on a bag of chips. "There's times when you need a rest from the ladies."
Annabelle shot out her arm and smacked him in the side of the head. "Don't forget who you're talking to."
Leandro had a short fuse, and he'd been known to take out a ref here and there when he didn't like a call, but the tight end merely rubbed the side of his head and grimaced. "Just like my mama."
"Mine, too," Tremaine said with happy nod.
Annabelle spun on Heath. "Their mother! I'm thirty-one years old, and I remind them of their mothers."
"You act like my mother," Sean pointed out, unwisely as it transpired, because he got a swat in the head next.
Mots clés humor mother football-players
Disagreements over money are the biggest cause of divorce."
She waved her hand. "Absolutely no problem. Your money is our money. My money is my money." She wrote away.
"I should make you negotiate with Phoebe.
Mots clés humor money romance pre-nup
There was something about a man with a shovel, and the sweat on his neck might as well have been chocolate sauce. It wasn't fair. Brains and brawns should be two separate categories, not bundled into one irresistible package. She needed to pull herself together before she went after him with a spoon. But where to start?
Susan Elizabeth PhillipsNever mind that. What's going on with you and Heath?"
Annabelle pulled a little wide-eyed innocence out of her rusty bag of college acting skills.
"What do you mean? Business."
"Don't give me that. We've been friends too long."
She switched to a furrowed brow. "He's my most important client. You know how much this means to me."
Molly wasn't buying it. "I've seen the way you look at him. Like he was a slot machine with triple sevens tattooed on his forehead. If you fall in love with him, I swear I'll never speak to
you again."
Annabelle nearly choked. She'd known Molly would be suspicious, but she hadn't expected an outright confrontation. "Are you nuts? Setting aside the fact that he treats me like a flunky, I'd never fall for a workaholic after what I've had to go through with my family." Falling in lust, however, was an entirely different matter.
"He has a calculator for a heart," Molly said.
"I thought you liked him.
Mots clés humor love romance lust comedy
my awful wedded husband.
Susan Elizabeth PhillipsIt runs in the family. And don't expect me to be ashamed. Yankees lock away loony relatives, but down here, we prop 'em up on parade floats and march 'em through the middle of town.
Susan Elizabeth PhillipsMots clés humor
You're beautiful, every part of you. I love your hair, the way it looks, the way it feels. I love touching it, smelling it. I love the way you wrinkle your nose when you laugh. It makes me laugh, too, every time. And I love watching you eat. Sometimes you can't shovel it in fast enough, but when you get interested in a conversation, you forget there's anything in front of you. God knows, I love making love with you. I can't even talk about that without wanting you. I love your pathetic attachment to those seniors. I love how hard you work.
Susan Elizabeth PhillipsMots clés love annabelle heath match-me-if-you-can
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