The Perfect Husband: A nail biting gripping psychological thriller. Buffy Andrews

The Perfect Husband: A nail biting gripping psychological thriller - Buffy  Andrews


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someone in a couple of hours when you’re both nervous and on your best behavior?’

      ‘I agree that some guys might want that instant gratification,’ Jackie said, ‘and if they don’t get instant results will think the date is a bust and move on. But I’m sure they’re not all like that.’

      I sighed. ‘I guess all of this is making me feel like an option instead of a priority. Besides, I’m not very good at selling myself. It takes skill to write a compelling dating profile.’

      Jackie cleared her throat. ‘You’re selling yourself short, Shelly. You’re a great writer. Always have been. I’m sure your profile is perfect.’

      ‘Thanks. I’m just not sure that a perfect partner is a click away.’

      ‘Well, what about the profile you just mentioned. Is he a possibility?’

      ‘EricT?’

      ‘It has a nice ring to it. Eric T. Have you messaged him?’

      ‘Uh, no.’

      ‘You totally should.’

      ‘No way am I texting a guy first. I don’t want to seem desperate or too anxious.’

      ‘Ugh! You’re impossible,’ Jackie said. ‘I’ll talk to you tomorrow. Remember, tacos at Tony’s.’

      ‘I wouldn’t miss it for anything. I swear my skin is turning green from eating so many salads. A greasy Tony’s taco is just what I need to get my color back!’

      A few minutes after I hung up with Jackie, my phone beeped. It was a text from EricT.

      Hi! What’s your cat’s name?

      I realized he’d seen the photo of me holding Izzy online.

      I laid down the book I’d picked up to read and typed my response.

      Izzy.

      Cute name.

      Thanks. Do you have any pets?

      No. I had a dog growing up, though.

      What kind?

      Golden retriever.

      Golden retrievers are sweet. Good with kids.

      Do you have kids?

      No.

      Me neither.

      An hour later, I’d texted more in sixty minutes than I had in my entire life! I couldn’t remember the last time I’d felt this comfortable talking to a man. I learned EricT stood for Eric Talbot. He worked in sales, and loved horses and craft beer.

      When I crawled into bed that night, with Izzy snuggled beside me, it was the first time in a long time that I thought about a guy.

      I woke the next morning and remembered that I was spending the day with a couple who were relocating to the area. I had planned to show them five properties. By the end of the day, I’d be ready to devour a Tony’s taco!

      I reached for my phone on my nightstand and realized I’d already received a text from Eric.

      Thanks for talking last night. I really enjoyed our conversation.

      It felt as if I was being tickled from the inside. It’d been years since I felt butterflies in my stomach. I texted back, Me, too!

      As soon as he received my text, he texted again. Maybe we can talk on the phone later. Can I call you?

      I’d like that, I texted. I should be home by nine-thirty.

      Great! I’ll call you then. Have a great day, Shelly!

      You, too!

      I jumped in the shower and dressed for work. I had to call Jackie on my way to pick up my clients to tell her about Eric.

      ‘Wait! What? So EricT texted you last night and I’m just hearing about it now?’

      I laughed. ‘And this morning. And he asked if he could call me later.’

      ‘Well, well, well, Shelly. I believe you have an admirer.’

      ‘Oh, it’s nothing. Just some texts, but he seems nice.’

      ‘Hmmm.’

      ‘What’s “hmmm” mean?’

      ‘Oh, I don’t know. Just hmmm.’

      ‘No, I know that hmmm. It means you’re thinking something. What is it? What are you thinking?’

      ‘Hmmm.’

      ‘Come on! Tell me,’ I pleaded.

      ‘Oh, okay. I just detect a sliver of excitement in your voice. And, well, it’s been a while since I’ve heard that.’

      I pulled into the hotel where I was picking up my clients. ‘Gotta go. Picking up my clients now.’

      ‘Perfect timing, eh?’

      I laughed. ‘I’ll see you later at Tony’s.’

      ‘Can’t wait.’

      The day went fast and after showing the Randalls four properties I was beginning to think we’d never find the perfect place. But when I pulled up to the luxurious brick home in a new bundled golf community, they were the most excited I’d seen them all day.

      By the time I finished showing them the four-bedroom, three-bath home, I knew they were smitten. This home was perfect, just what they’d been looking for.

      It reminded me that so often in life we’re not exactly sure what we’re looking for. But we know it when we see it. There’s something about it that says, this is right for me. I knew the Randalls had found their Happy Ever After, I just hoped that one day I would find mine.

      A couple of hours later, I delivered the Randalls’ offer to the listing agent on my way to meet Jackie. Tony’s always drew a crowd on taco night, but Jackie’s blow-in-the-wind fiery red hair was hard to miss. I walked to the bar and slid into the seat she’d saved next to her.

      She looked up from her phone. ‘About time you got here.’

      I hung my purse on the hook under the bar. ‘Sorry, I had to finish some paperwork.’

      Jackie smiled. ‘Make a sale?’

      ‘Hopefully. The out-of-town buyers I told you about loved the last property I showed them.’

      Jackie sipped her rum and Coke. ‘Great!’

      I ordered a gin and diet tonic. ‘I’m starved. I barely ate anything all day.’

      ‘Me, too. I’ve been saving my calories for tacos!’

      ‘I didn’t know you were counting calories,’ I said.

      ‘Some lady at work is doing it and talked me into doing it with her. I cheat a lot though.’

      I laughed.

      The bartender slid my drink in front of me and took our orders.

      ‘So, Bruce asked me where I wanted to go for our twentieth anniversary,’ Jackie said.

      I turned to face Jackie and nearly fell off my bar stool.

      ‘Yeah, I know. It surprised me, too. We both know how frugal he is. When I said I wanted to go to Paris, he had a coughing fit so severe I thought he was going to pass out. As soon as he recovered, he made a dozen excuses why that wouldn’t be a good idea. Overseas travel is dangerous. Neither of us speak French. Blah blah blah. But the real reason was that a trip to Paris cost a lot more than he planned on spending. He suggested going to the beach.’

      ‘But you always go to the beach,’ I said. ‘That wouldn’t be that special.’


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