Susan Elizabeth Phillips · 388 pages
Rating: (37.3K votes)
“sometimes knowing when to give up is the real test of character...
-annabelle granger”
“If I could put my brain in her body, the world would be mine for the taking.”
“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.”
“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.”
“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.”
“Why don't I just hand you my panties and be done with it.”
“I think this is the way love feels to people like you and me. Threatening and dangerous. We have to be in control, and love takes that away. People like us… We can't tolerate vulnerability. But despite our best efforts, sooner or later love seems to catch up with us. And then…And then we fall apart.”
“She's as plastic as you are. If you ever have kids, they'll come out of the birth canal with Fisher-Price stamped on their butts.”
“We’re only human.”
“One of us, anyway. The other’s a reptile.”
“Harsh, Annabelle. Very harsh.”
“They've drunk everything in the house, including a pitcher of African violet plant food I'd just mixed up and was stupid enough to leave on the counter."
Tremaine punched Eddie in the shoulder. "I told you it tasted weird."
Eddie shrugged. "Tasted okay to me.”
“I don't need to be fixed anymore. That job's already been done. I love you, Annabelle.
-Heath Champion-”
“He grinned, and right then it occurred to him that he hadn't enjoyed himself so much with a woman in a very long time. If Annabelle Granger were a few inches taller, a hell of a lot more sophisticated, better organized, less bossy, and more inclined to worship at his feet, she'd have made a perfect wife.”
“Something brushed his leg, and he gazed down into the face of Pippi Tucker. The theme from Jaws raced through his head.”
“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.”
“Annabelle gnawed her bottom lip. “I know I have to tell him the truth. I just need to find the right moment.”
Krystal cocked her hip. “Girl, there is no right moment to die.”
Charmaine clucked her tongue. “You are going straight on the top of my prayer list.”
Only Phoebe looked pleased, and her amber eyes glowed like a cat’s. “I love this. Not the fact that you’ll end up in a shallow grave – I’m really sorry about that, and I’ll make sure he’s prosecuted to the fullest extent of the law. But I love knowing that a mere slip of a female put one over on the great Python.”
Molly glared at her sister. “This is the exact reason why Christine Jeffreys won’t let her daughters have a sleepover with the twins. You frighten people.”
“She gestured toward his very fine chest with her pencil. “On the off chance I find out after we’re married that your declaration of abiding love and devotion has been an elaborate con job perpetrated by you, Bodie, and Scary Spice…”
He massaged her arch. “I definitely wouldn’t lose too much sleep over that.”
“Just in case. You will give me all you worldly goods, shave your head, and leave the country.”
“Deal.”
“Plus, you have to hand out your Sox tickets so I can burn them in front of your eyes.”
“The question is… How did a girl like Annabelle manage to talk a man like you into joining our silly little family party?”
Annabelle smiled sweetly. “I promised he could tie me up afterward and spank me.”
“You're not my matchmaker any longer. But we're still friends, and in the interest of our friendship we need to discuss page thirteen."
"Page thirteen ?"
"You've accused me of being arrogant. I've always thought of myself as confident, but I'm here to tell you, no more. After studying these pictures... Honey, if this is what you're looking for in a man, I don't think any of us are going to measure up."
"I have no idea what you're talking about."
"Who knew flexible silicone came in so many colors?"
Her sex toy catalog. He'd taken it months ago. She'd hoped he forgotten it by now.
" Most of these products are hypoallergenic. That's good, I guess. Some with batteries, some without. I suppose that's a matter of preference. There's a harness on this one. That's pretty kinky. And...Son of a bitch ! It says this one is dishwater safe. I'm sorry but there's just something unappetizing about that.”
“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.”
“Phoebe tapped the toe of her sneaker against the dock. “There’s only one good use for a man like Heath Champion.”
“Here we go again,” Molly muttered.
Phoebe’s lip curled. “Target practice.”
“You're not having sex with him. I know these guys, and you don't. I'm trusting you with Claudia Reeshman. You need to trust me about Dean Robillard."
She wouldn't let him off that easily. "You're looking for a wife. Maybe I'm just looking for a little fun."
"If you need fun," he shot back, 'I'll give you fun."
She was stunned.”
“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.”
“Never 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.”
“If another woman had been around, this would never have happened."
"Whatever you're trying to say, just spit it out."
"Come on, Heath. I'm not blond, leggy, or stacked. I was the default setting. Even my fiance never said I was sexy."
"Your ex-fiance wears lipstick, so I wouldn't take that to heart. I promise, Annabelle, you're very sexy. That hair..."
"Do not start in on my hair. I was born with it, okay. It's like making fun of someone with a birth defect.”
“He set the suitcases in the back then tossed her the keys. "You drive."
She repressed a smile as she climbed behind the wheel. "With each passing day, your reasons for wanting a wife become clearer.”
“He smiled. “You are one beautiful bitch.”
“Thank you.”
“Annabelle gazed wistfully toward the doorway. “If I could put my brain in her body, the world would be mine for the taking.”
“Are you saying...I was your icebreaker?"
Those honey-colored eyes darkened with concern. "Tell me that's okay with you. I know your emotions weren't involved, but still, nobody likes to think they've been taken advantage of."
He unclenched his teeth. "And that's what you did? You took advantage of me?"
"I wasn't, you know, picturing him in my mind last night when I was with you or anything. Well, maybe for a couple of seconds, but that's all, I swear.”
“What the hell did magic wands have to do with helping girls learn math and science? He'd been good at both. He could have helped them with math and science. Weren't these girls supposed to be building skills? Screw magic wands. He'd have handed out some fucking calculators.”
“The only choice I make is to write about what interests me in a way that interests me, that gives me pleasure. It may not look like pleasure, because the difficulties can make me morose and distracted, but that’s what it is—the pleasure of telling the story I mean to tell as wholly as I can tell it, of finding out in fact what that story is, by working around the different ways of telling it.”
“Look. I'm your expert consultant for a rather pathetic monetary wage, and under that agreement I have the option of selecting a technical assistant. He's mine."
She blew out a breath, paced to the window. Paced back. "Not just yours. It makes him mine, too. I don't know how to deal with a teenaged type person."
"Ah, well, I'd say you'd deal with him as you deal with everyone else. You order him around, and if he argues or doesn't jump quickly enough you freeze his blood with one of those vicious looks you're so good at and verbally abuse him. It always works so well for you."
"You think so?"
"There, see." He cupped her chin. "There it is now. I can actually feel my blood running cold.”
“The way to overcome the angry man is with gentleness, the evil man goodness, the miser with generosity, and the liar with truth. (Indian proverb)
It sounds good, doesn’t it? If only people and life were that effing easy. Trust me, it takes more than a friendly biscuit to tame a hungry lion. And it’s all fun and games until someone gets hurt. Then it’s war. (Savitar)”
“moment of declaration of war, if there”
“Davy's kiss tasted like vodka and disaster, and even while she kissed him back, Tilda thought, I'm never going into a closet with this man again. He slipped his hand under her T-shirt, and she said, "You know," as his hand slid up to her breast, but the only thing left to say was, I'm not that kind of girl, and of course she was.”
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