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PROJECT DATE—September 2007
I didn't have to wait by Barry's black BMW long before he strolled out of the gym and toward his car.
His eyes lit up when he saw me, and he hurried over eagerly. "Mena, I thought I was supposed to pick you up for our date. Am I late?"
"No." He was never late. Actually, he was quite predictable, which was part of the problem. "I just needed to see you and I couldn't wait—"
"I know what you mean." He dropped his gym bag and grabbed me by the waist. "I've been thinking about you all day."
"Barry—" Before I could say another word he plastered me to his chest and laid a big wet one on my mouth.
I sighed in resignation and tried to give the kiss a chance. But it did nothing for me—not even the smallest tingle of warmth. It was too soppy, too limp. Utterly uninspiring and, well, gross.
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PROJECT DADDY—May 2006
My boss is a crazy bitch.
No, that's not true. She isn't really crazy. She's driven. Focused. Often obsessive. But there usually is method to her madness.
So let me rephrase that statement: my boss is a heinous bitch.
Tonight, that's my mantra. Lydia Ashworth, CEO of Ashworth Communications, Inc., my esteemed boss and role model (God help me) is a heinous bitch. But it didn't matter how much I resented Lydia and the assignment she gave me—I just had to get it done.
I sighed and turned to the guy standing next to me at the bar. I stared at his cheeks, wondering if he had dimples. "Excuse me."
He glanced down at me.
Blue eyes—at least he had that going for him. "Does your family have a history of mental illness?"
