Making Mr. Right. Jamie Denton

Making Mr. Right - Jamie  Denton


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analytical, problem-solving, stepback-and-view-things-from-a-distance side of him had returned.

      “She always did that by herself,” Flo said, a touch too wryly.

      “But she expects her attachments to be impressive, too.”

      Cindy and Flo looked at Parker with amazement. He’d used the word “attachment.” Obviously he was aware that Mallory saw whatever man she was with as another of her accessories. He was coming along.

      “Speaking of impressing people. Something else you should think about doing,” Cindy suggested.

      “What?”

      “You should consider hosting one of the reunion events here,” she told him. The idea had struck when she’d first stepped into his new foyer, though she’d been in too much shock to voice it then. “What better chance to impress everyone?” Including Mallory, she almost heard Parker think as he noted it with a raised eyebrow.

      “You don’t think being on the Times cover is enough to impress anyone?”

      “Now you’re gloating.”

      “He does take extra pleasure out of all his success, doesn’t he,” Flo teased.

      “I’ll admit. I look forward to observing a few people’s reactions.”

      Cindy chuckled. “Bill Baxter, for one?” He’d been the star running back on the high school football team. He’d dated Mallory throughout their senior year.

      “Baxter’s a start.” Parker leaned forward, propping his elbows on the table as he twisted the pen he held between both hands. “What kind of event did you have in mind?”

      “A cocktail party maybe? The committee’s tentative schedule said a ‘Get Together’ on Friday evening? But it wasn’t specific. Since nothing was spelled out, I’ll bet they haven’t finalized anything yet. If you called the committee and volunteered to have their Get Together here—kind of a renew-old-acquaintances informal cocktail party—I’ll bet they’d jump on it.”

      He nodded thoughtfully. “That sounds logical.”

      “And that phrase you should strike from your vocabulary,” Flo said, dishing another warm roll onto each of their plates.

      “That sounds logical?”

      “Yeah.” Cindy shared another understanding smile with Flo. “Strange as it may seem, PC, not everyone in the world functions strictly on logic,” she added. “Mallory will not be impressed when you ask her to marry you by detailing the logic behind it. You might want to mention feelings or emotion or something similar.”

      He laughed. Nothing perked him up like the mention of Mallory.

      “She’ll see plenty of logic on her own,” Cindy muttered under her breath. Darn him. And darn me for caring.

      Flo chuckled. “I gotta get back to work. Sounds like you guys are doing just fine.” She picked up the pan with the rest of the rolls. “It’s good to see you again, Cindy. I’m glad we’ll be doing it a lot more often.”

      “Thanks, Flo. Me, too.”

      Flo gave a thumbs-up on her way out.

      “Why do I get the feeling I’ve invited the two of you to gang up on me,” Parker asked as she closed the door behind her.

      “It’s your imagination.” Cindy reviewed their list again. She didn’t need to worry about still being in love with him when all this was over. If they accomplished everything on here, he’d be a totally different man. Someone she wouldn’t recognize, let alone love. That was good, wasn’t it?

      Was it the idea of him changing that made her feel so irritable and sad? Or was it that she was making him over for Mallory?

      Cindy looked around her at the luxurious apartment he and Flo had christened the master suite. “I was serious, PC,” she said. “You really don’t need to do anything except bring everyone here. You’ll have the undivided attention of every unmarried female in your class.”

      “I was serious, too,” he replied as passionately as she’d ever heard him. “I don’t want anyone who’s only attracted to all this.”

      Not even Mallory? She clamped her mouth closed over the next question she wanted to ask. How would they know what Mallory would be interested in. Because she would be interested.

      Cindy closed her eyes momentarily. She couldn’t protect him from Mallory; she couldn’t even protect him from himself. She could only do her very best for him and let her feelings for him go. They were hopeless. She’d known it as long as she could remember. It was time to start thinking of him as the brother-in-law he wanted to be.

      “Then don’t worry. By the time we’re through with you, she’ll be dazzled by just you.” She forced a smile. “So where do you want to start?”

      “First things first. Might as well begin at the beginning.” He leaned closer, eager to do whatever he was required. He grimaced and tapped at the word topping the list: Workaholic.

      “You’ll have to do that one yourself,” she reminded him, adding, “but if it makes you feel better, I’ll remind you from time to time.”

      “It’s surely a matter of concentration,” he said, causing her to shake her head. That’s what got him into trouble in the first place—concentrating too hard.

      He scanned the list again from top to bottom. “Is there anything right with me?” he asked ruefully.

      Her heart compressed in her chest. There is so much right with you, Parker Michael Chaney! She loved his honesty. His intensity. His dedication and determination. His genuine caring. His way of making whatever he wanted to happen happen. She released a painfully silent sigh. “The problem has always been perceptions,” she said. “Their perceptions,” she clarified. “Your former classmates. The problem has never been with you.”

      “But now, fifteen years later, I have an opportunity to make a new first impression,” he said, pleased with the thought.

      “Exactly.”

      “I can’t tell you how badly I want to do that.” He squared his shoulders. “So I guess it’s logical... appropriate,” he amended, “to start on this one.” He underlined the second with his finger. “Clothes.” He glanced up expectantly.

      “Then I guess we should adjourn to your closet.”

      CHAPTER THREE

      His closet was the size of her bedroom. Beside it there was another one the same size. Out of curiosity, Cindy opened that door as Parker opened the one he’d indicated was his. She wasn’t surprised to see boxes stacked inside the second one. Boxes, computer keyboards, various pieces and parts of computers. In this huge house, there had to be another place to store those kinds of things.

      With an overwhelmed sigh, she closed the second door.

      “What?” Parker asked. “What’s wrong?” He was standing just inside the door he had opened.

      “You’ll have to clear all that stuff out for Mallory,” she warned.

      A can’t-wait-for-Christmas expression spread across his face as the implication of her statement sank in. “I can handle that,” he said and she could almost see the visions of sugarplums dancing in his head.

      “PC...”

      He looked at her, ready to do whatever she said.

      “That’s the first thing we have to change,” she said, suddenly irritated beyond belief with him.

      “What?”

      “You have to get rid of that eager-to-please, can’t-wait-for-you-to-walk-all-over-me attitude. Mallory’s going to swallow you up for breakfast and throw you away.”

      He


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