C2 The ONE

I leaned forward and rested my forehead on the cool table, inhaling the remaining scent of my spilled coffee, trying to ignore the headache coming on. What sucked was that she was right. This would be huge for the blog, pull in other followers and even create some huge media exposure. She had hit a gold mine. And I wasn’t just the CPA of the business, I’d also invested heavily in the startup making me a partner, so any returns would be huge for me in paying off my last student loan.

“I hate this,” I mumbled against the tabletop.

“You’ll thank me later,” Roxi spoke softly, and I heard her set a cup on the table beside my head. “Don’t spill this one. It’s hotter than Hades.”

“Thanks.” I lifted my head and stared into the black liquid.

“Seriously, Meredith, you’ll be fine. It will be fun. It’s not anything serious. All the guys will know it’s for research purposes ahead of time.”

“Promise?” I asked, knowing that honesty would be my lifeline if I were to actually try this.

“Yeah. Promise.” She leaned forward. “Is that a yes?” Her manicured fingers were practically clawing at the table.

“Yes,” I whispered, promising myself that it would be better than it sounded.

It had to be.

“YAY! Thank you! You will have so much fun, and everything will be company expensed.” She clapped with excitement as she beamed at me.

“I know. It better be.”

“Your first guy is named Jackson Meyer. He’s a second string NFL fullback. Nice guy. Single, of course, and pretty laid back. You’ll like him.” She leaned down and pulled out a head shot from her huge Coach Bag, along with a file.

“What if I had said no?” I asked, pulling the folder toward me and scanning it.

“Mere, you are too smart to say no. You see the potential as much as I do.” She leaned cross the table, her red fingernails tapping the wood. She was in hyper business mode, yet as quick as she flipped the switch, her expression softened and she reached out to touch my hand. “You’re brilliant, beautiful, and just as invested in this business as I am. You might like to hide behind your glasses and ponytail, but I know you’re just waiting for the right moment to dazzle everyone who’s missed that inner beauty, your inner magic. You might fool them, but I’m not in the least. So I push you.” She shrugged.

“You drag me, kicking and screaming,” I corrected her with a wry smile. “But thanks… for all the other stuff you said. You’re a great friend and an even better liar.” She grinned as she removed her hand and relaxed in her chair.

“Ha, ha. It’s the truth and you know it. Now, check out the guy. He’s hot. Pretty intelligent as well. Athletic in the extreme, the guy has a 36-inch vertical jump and can dead lift 450. He’s an animal. The ladies are going to salivate once his picture hits the blog.” She grinned and crossed her arms.

“He’s not bad.” I shrugged and picked up the photo. The headshot could easily have been for a modeling agency call. He appeared to be half African American and half Eastern European. His hair was long and braided, black like my coffee but his skin was all caramel with the most crystal blue eyes I’d ever seen. His smile was accented with a one-sided dimple that was both boyishly cute and masculine all at once. Broad shoulders completed the visual, adding to the jock ideal.

“Not bad, huh? I gave him your phone number and he’ll be texting you in the next day or so to set up your first date.”

“My phone number? He already has my phone number? When did you give him that?” I asked, darting my hand to my purse and pulling out my iPhone.

“After you spilled your coffee. I shot off a text real quick. Sweet guy. And hey… in the middle of all of this, you might find the one. Have you ever thought of that?” she asked, a dreamy smile lighting up her face. It was the same smile she’d given me back in high school when she told me to ask out James Booth to the Sadie Hawkins dance.

It had worked then.

And damn it all, I was almost afraid it would work now.

“You sure talk a lot for a single white female,” I challenged, knowing I had her there.

“Yeah, I’m too busy right now.”

“And I’m not?”

“You… Mere, you’ve always wanted that white picket fence, the two kids, and a cocker spaniel named Rufus. When we played Barbies as kids, you would be the one with two sets of twins and baking muffins.” She giggled.

“And you’d be the one in the power suit, driving to work in the pink convertible and leaving Ken at home with Skipper.” I laughed, remembering how we’d play for hours.

“Yeah… and I want that for you. But you’ll never get it unless you try… unless you get out of that little box you’ve made for yourself and shine a bit. Trust me. This is going to be good. I’ve got a feeling.” She reached out and patted my hand, yet the gleam in her eye was dangerous.

I blinked, and for a second I almost told her no, that I couldn’t do it. Yet, even though I knew how lethal her ideas could be, the way her blue eyes sparkled innocently, had her looking more angelic than wicked. I sighed. “I’ve got a feeling too, and I’m pretty sure it’s called indigestion.”

She rolled her eyes. “Drink your coffee and read about your guy.”

I scanned the sheet. It was pretty basic. Likes and dislikes, height, weight — as if I really cared — and a few sentences in an About Me space.

“He doesn’t look like a serial killer, so we’re good.” I laid the sheet down and glanced up to Roxi.

“My thoughts exactly.” She gave me an exasperated sigh. “Let me know when he contacts you, and give me all the info on the date night.”

“Fine, fine, but what’re the rules? I mean, we have parameters, right? I mean, what are you using to ‘sell’ it on the blog?” I crossed my arms. “Because I’m not going to hussy it out for these guys. I mean I have standards.”

“Chill. Like I said, I’m not your pimp.” She waved her hands dismissively. “You’re just having dinner. If you want to kiss him, do it. If you want to invite him in? Tell me if it was a good idea… but I’m after the emotion.” Her smile shifted into a dreamy gaze as she slowly turned the head shot her direction and traced the outline. “What do you ‘feel’ when he looks at you? How is that guy attractive to women? What do other women do when they see him? What is the reaction you have to his smile? His voice? Is it sexy—”

“Okay, I think I get it. It’s more… clinical.”

“No, only you would look at a hot guy like this and think clinical.” She took a deep breath through her nose. “Tell me your gut. Let me feel what it’s like to be you. You’ll figure it out. These guys? They will know what’s going on… they’ll want you to like them. It’s a win-win for everyone. Just know that you’re not going to be undercover or anything, be honest. You’ll be surprised.”

“I… don’t quite get how this is going to work.”

“Just watch. You’ll figure it out.”

“You have way too much faith in me.” I sipped my coffee, thankful it had cooled enough to enjoy.

“Or you don’t have enough in yourself. I gotta go, call me.” And she was gone, leaving me alone with my coffee and ten other customers immersed in their own world.

Taking a deep breath, I glanced back to the headshot. “Okay, Jackson Meyer. Let’s see what you’ve got.”