Finding the Perfect Man

by Marie Higgins

  Jordan would have to let this applicant know right away this was only a business deal, and definitely no sexual innuendos or any kind of flirtation allowed. Unless, of course, it was done for show in front of Serena and Kenneth, which was why Erica made sure the ad mentioned having acting abilities.

  Erica knocked on the door and made Jordan’s heart leap, but she smiled through her nervousness when her friend handed her the cola.

  “Just now, out the window in the parking lot, I saw a red Beamer pull up to the building.”

  “He drives a BMW?”

  Erica shrugged. “Looks like it.”

  “Be nice and let him in.”

  Erica nodded and walked out of the office, pulling the door shut.

  With shaky hands, Jordan pried back the tab to the can. It spurted air and soda out of the can, and she jumped back. Good thing it didn’t get on her white jacket. Cursing under her breath, she shook the excess liquid from her hands and sipped her drink.

  The intercom on her desk buzzed. “Doctor Reed? Your appointment is here.”

  “Thank you. I’ll be right out.”

  Jordan set the Cola on her desk and took a deep breath for courage. Steadfast and in control, she walked to the door and opened it.

  When she took her first look at candidate number one, she gasped. A Spanish God stood in front of her. His rugged good looks took her breath away. Although older than she expected, the light touch of gray in his black hair gave him a distinguished look. Square shoulders and large biceps made his navy blue suit jacket fit tight. A well-trimmed goatee framed his smiling lips and chin, adding sex appeal.

  She smiled and extended her right hand. “Hello. I’m Doctor Jordan Reed.”

  His large hand slid into hers. His heat mixed well with her cold skin. A hint of cologne, a blend of leather and spice, waffled around her.

  “Nice to meet you. My name is Juanito Balli, the fourth.”

  The fourth? How impressive. “Would you please step into my office and we’ll start the interview?”

  He nodded and walked inside. Behind him, Erica eyed him over, but the look on Erica’s face wasn’t lustful like usual. Her creased brows and pursed lips spoke of confusion.

  Jordan ignored her friend and closed the door. “Please, Mr. Balli, have a seat.”

  She rolled his last name on her tongue, giving the double L’s the Spanish Y sound—Bayi.

  “Call me Juanito.”

  “Thank you, call me Jordan.”

  Once they were seated, Jordan said, “I apologize for not giving much away in the advertisement. I had a situation come up in my personal life, and this is the only way I know how to handle it.”

  He nodded, keeping his warm chocolate eyes on her.

  “Anyway, keep in mind as we go over the questions, I am looking for a business relationship only.”

  “As am I. It is an act of providence that we have found each other.”

  “Why do you say that?”

  “I have more than the specifications you outlined in the newspaper advertisement. You will not be seeing one other applicant come in here wearing Bruno Magli shoes and an Ermenegildo Zegna suit. This custom made, high collared, blue shirt cost five-hundred dollars, and the Countess Maria pure silk tie costa almost that much.”

  Jordan sighed, relieved. If anything, this man was certainly full of himself. She picked up her notes she’d jotted down earlier and cleared her throat. “Are you married?”

  “I am a widower.”

  She wrote down his answer. “Are you financially secure?”

  “Sí. Mí esposa was wealthy when we married. I am not a spendthrift, and most of the money is in stocks and bonds. Do you think I bought these clothes in a hock shop?”

  “Excellent.” She bent over her notes, scribbling as fast as she could. She could picture herself talking with the actor Antonio Banderas in one of his more serious roles. It surprised her how well it helped the situation, especially now, since she didn’t like Juanito’s cocky attitude.

  “Now, the most important question.” She looked up. “Would it scare you off if I told you we might have to act as if we’re engaged?”

  “I can handle that. I come from a long line of Spaniards from Barcelona. Going back in history, one of my relatives owned the island. I have a brother in Madrid who is a bullfighter. I have never done drugs. I have to admit, women fall for my charm very easily.” His grin stretched wide. “Of course, a pretend engagement would not scare me off. Like you said earlier, this is a business deal, is it not?”

  “You are correct.”

  She bit back a laugh. It sounded as if this man was used to acting. Feeling more relaxed, Jordan leaned back in her chair. “Let me tell you what’s going on in my life. Maybe you’ll understand more of my predicament.”

  Once she began her story, the interest in his eyes never wavered. She liked that. He knew how to listen, something most men had a problem with.

  Outside the window behind him, a movement caught her eyes. She tried not to focus on the commotion in her shrubbery, but she couldn’t help notice Erica wedging herself between the bushes and the building.

  Jordan glanced down at her hands just to keep her mind off Erica. After a few seconds, she looked back up at Juanito who, thankfully, didn’t seem aware of Erica’s peculiar behavior behind him.

  Erica made wide hand gestures and shook her head. She pointed to Juanito then wrapped her hands around her throat as if she were choking. Jordan bit her lip to keep from laughing aloud. She rose from her chair and walked to her desk to regain her composure. What on earth was Erica trying to tell her?

  She glanced back at the window. Erica had disappeared. Thank goodness. What was wrong with her secretary?

  Jordan focused on Juanito. “Is there anything you’d like to tell me about yourself?”

  “In New York I was a card carrying member of the Actors Guild. I appeared in two episodes of HBO’s ‘The Sopranos’. I was one of the mob members.”

  Again, very impressive. She smiled and nodded, but soon movement by the window caught her attention once more. Erica squeezed back through the bushes. When a sticker-bush grabbed her, she jumped. Jordan had to hide her grin behind her hand.

  This had to stop. She couldn’t conduct an interview with Erica’s confusing theatrics going on behind the window. Jordan wanted to wait for the right minute to stop Juanito from his story, so she could go out and reprimand her secretary, but she saw Erica hold up a piece of paper and press it against the glass. It read: AMERICA’S MOST WANTED. Erica pointed to Juanito.

  Finally, Jordan held up a hand and stopped Juanito’s blabbering. “Will you excuse me for a moment? There’s an important matter I need to take up with my secretary, but it will only be a minute or two.”

  Juanito nodded, seeming unaware of Jordan’s distraction.

  She hurried from the office and closed the door behind her. Within seconds, Erica ran into the building, huffing with exhaustion.

  “What was that about?” Jordan snipped.

  “He’s...he’s...” Erica paused, taking in a deep breath. “I’ve seen him on America’s Most Wanted. He’s called the Black Widower. He marries women for their money, then kills them. He’s been on the run for several years now.”

  Jordan placed her hands on her pounding head, the news hit her like a diesel truck going one-hundred miles an hour. She swayed and leaned against Erica’s desk. “Are you sure?”

  “Of course I’m sure. Would I create a scene if I had any doubts?”

  “No.” Jordan’s heart sank. A known murderer was actually in her office. What should she do? As she collected her thoughts, she chewed on her bottom lip. She’d dealt with people who had multi-personalities, depression to the fullest, so she should just think of this man as another of her clients.

  Holding her chin erect, she felt in control again. “Fine. I’ll go back in my office and keep him entertained while you call the police.”

  “I already did. They’re on their way.�
�

  Jordan turned and walked back into the room, thinking how unlucky she’d been. Each step she took sent she heart lower, and with that, the idea of finding the right man for the job slipped away. Would her attempts to find a temporary man fail? Through no fault of her own, she feared Kenneth would know the truth.

  FOUR

  Jordan closed the case file after her client left the office. Phew! She massaged the back of her neck, releasing the tension build-up since this morning. Juanito Balli’s interview had stressed her out completely. Even her last client couldn’t compare to Mr. Balli.

  The police had come to arrest him, and thankfully Juanito didn’t try to make a run for it. Of course, the only place he could go was out the window, but the cops were on him quicker than flies on fertilizer.

  Her last client was on his way to recovery. Rod Crane needed her attention, yet all she could do was think about her session with Brock and being in his strong arms.

  Cursing her weakness, she pushed away from the desk and stood. No doubt about it, she had to call Doctor Fairchild and have him take Brock. She couldn’t go on like this. It was unethical. She could get in serious trouble. She’d gone through too many years of college to let that happen.

  The miniature grandfather clock in the corner of the office chimed the noon hour. Lunch would not only fill her belly, but hopefully, take her mind off Brock.

  She shrugged off her white jacket and hung it on the hook on the back of the door. Once she walked out of her office, she announced, “I’m going to lunch. I’ll be back in an hour.”

  Erica flipped her hand through the air. “Take all the time you need. Your one o’clock appointment rescheduled for next week. You don’t have another appointment until two-thirty.”

  Jordan sighed. “Oh, great. What am I going to do for two and a half hours?”

  Erica shrugged. “Whatever your heart desires.”

  Jordan scowled and hurried out of the office, not caring to think about what exactly her heart desired. Her heart desired a man! She needed to feel needed. Wanted. The moment she drove out of the parking lot, she knew the precise location she’d go for lunch. Charlie’s Passion. Even the name of the bar fit her mood.

  Her palms moistened with anticipation—and fear. Would the man she’d met at the bar last week be there? Would it be too bold of her to approach him? Perhaps this might be her cure…and it was exactly what the doctor ordered.

  Jordan parked and turned off the car. She glanced around the parking lot. For being early in the afternoon, there were hardly any cars. Not that crowds bothered her. It was the idea of who might be in the crowd. Would she let her heart become involved? No. She’d been hurt, not only with Kenneth, but the five boyfriends before, and it scared her to try again.

  Flipping down the rearview mirror on the visor, she studied her reflection. She tried not to think how pathetic and desperate she appeared. She combed her fingers through her long hair, letting the fullness plummet over her shoulders. Before getting out, she shook off her suit jacket, leaving her professional appearance behind—if only for a few hours.

  She took a deep breath for courage, pulled open the heavy door, and walked into the bar. Right away darkness surrounded her, closing in on her like a cave. The loud music and the smell of liquor reminded her why she didn’t enjoy places like this. As her vision adjusted, chairs, tables, and the bar counter against the wall appeared.

  Inside the door, she stopped, before closing it behind her. The finality of the hard wood hitting the frame made her jump, and her heart hammered faster. Was she doing the right thing?

  She straightened and on shaky legs made her way through the smoke-filled space to the bar. To keep her legs from crumbling beneath her, she hurried and slid onto a stool. All around, she felt eyes watching her, from the pool tables to the booths hidden back in the far corners of the room, but she remained unaffected.

  The loud music from the overhead speakers nearly deafened her. How could anybody meet people in this kind of establishment? Erica had assured her this was the best spot in town if you wanted to meet a man, but Jordan now doubted her friend’s judgment.

  The tall bartender with a long mustache moved to serve her. “What do we have here?” He leaned across the counter, wearing a wide grin. “Look what graced our doors today. What can I get you, lovely lady?”

  She smiled. “Would it be terrible if I only had a Diet Coke?”

  He chuckled. “Not at all.”

  “Then that’s what I’ll have, please.”

  His eyes widened in surprise. “Please? Did I hear you right? Did you say please? Well, you must be a real lady, indeed, to talk so sweetly.”

  “Thank you, sir.”

  He chuckled. “No sir in this bar, honey. Call me Todd.”

  She nodded, still very nervous about her decision. Slowly, she let her gaze wander around the room. Where was Rocky? This was about the time of day she’d met him last time.

  A shiver of dread danced up her spine. This was a mistake. Most of the men in here looked like insects that had just crawled out from under a rock, especially the one stumbling over his feet as he moved toward her.

  “Hey, honey,” the bartender said, bringing her attention back to him as he poured her drink. “Are you meeting anyone?”

  “No. I’m by myself.”

  Todd lost his smile as he glanced over her shoulder. “Not for long.”

  A man fell into her, rolled off her, and flopped into the empty stool next to her. Oh, great. She sighed. Look what the cat dragged in.

  “Hey, babe. Did I hear you say you’re alone?”

  She cringed, trying not to look at his unflattering features and security guard uniform.

  The repulsive fool leaned into her. She glared at him, but by his dopey expression and the strong smell of liquor, he was at least ten sheets to the wind and in no way an attractive man. His long nose and big ears made him look more like a circus animal than a human. She groaned. She wasn’t that desperate.

  “No, you heard incorrectly,” she told him.

  His eyebrows drew together. “Then you’re not alone?”

  “I’m by myself, and I wish to remain that way if you don’t mind.”

  Todd snickered and she glanced at him. He stood far enough away, yet she felt as if he would step in and help if the occasion arose. She imagined the occasion was getting ready to arise very soon.

  The drunk tilted his almost empty glass up to his mouth and slurped, the foamy beer dribbled out the sides of his glass. After a belch, he lowered the glass onto the counter top, and the glass slid into her drink, splashing it over the side.

  “I think you’ve come to the wrong place to be by yourself,” he said.

  “Fine.” She squared her shoulders, hoping to give the appearance that his reeking company insulted her. “Then I’ll rephrase that.” Clearing her throat, she gave him a razor sharp smile. “I don’t want to be with you. Do I need to be any more blunt?”

  “Blunt about what?”

  She rolled her eyes. “Your company offends me. I’d rather not lower myself to speak with you any further.” She raised her brows. “Do you understand that, drunken monkey boy?”

  Why she resulted to insults to scare him away, was beyond her thinking, but she’d somehow let the man get on her already quaky nerves. She didn’t want to be rude. Just wanted him to leave her alone.

  He laughed a loud rancorous laugh and leaned into her further. “Is this your way of trying to flirt with me? Cuz I’m likin’ it.”

  She placed her hands against his chest to keep him away, but his body wouldn’t budge. She almost gagged at his odor, and feared she would empty her stomach all over him.

  “No, I’m not flirting with you. I have better taste in men.”

  “Oh, yeah? I don’t see anyone else around.”

  She opened her mouth to rebuke again, but another presence beside her made her hesitate.

  “Then you’re not looking hard enough, because I’m right here.” Th
e man’s deep baritone voice sent shivers of awareness over her.

  She glanced over her shoulder to see who had come to her rescue. Rocky. The large muscular man stood so close behind her, she couldn’t quite see his face, but she knew it was him. The tingles running up her arms reminded her of when he’d touched her a week ago. This time, his presence reassured her, that he’d be her protector.

  The drunk jerked his attention to Rocky and gasped. Once he recovered from shock, his face creased in anger. “Go away. You’re not wanted.”

  “Get away from the lady or you’re going to feel the bones from my fist connect with your nose,” Rocky threatened.

  Jordan’s heart hammered. It scared her that she might be the cause of a bar-room brawl, but Rocky’s deep voice unnerved her even more. She didn’t dare turn to look at him again, only because his masculine scent of spice stirred feelings in her she didn’t want to think about.

  The drunk’s facial expression turned from anger to fright. He pulled away and straightened. “Fine, you can have the wench. She was lousy company, anyhow.”

  In a flash, a strong arm reached out and grabbed the drunk by the collar. She gasped and crossed her arms over her chest, pulling herself as close to the bar as she could, but she was still caught between the two men. Now she could look at Rocky’s face, tight with anger. His neck muscles stood out. She realized how incredibly built he was.

  “I don’t want to hear you call her that name again.” Rocky growled. “Now apologize.”

  Time seemed to stop as the incredible gorgeous man defended her honor. She almost giggled at the absurdity of the situation. She looked back at the drunk and waited for his answer.

  His Adam’s apple jerked. “I’m...sorry.”

  She nodded.

  Rocky pushed the drunk away from the bar. “Now get out of here.”

  The drunk quickly stumbled backwards and hurried away. Jordan sighed. Now she had to talk to her defender. Could she do it without looking like a smitten schoolgirl?

  Rocky stood very close, and when his body touched hers, warmth spread through every limb. Her insides trembled, just like they’d done the first time they’d made contact. She turned her head and met his stare, wishing she could see the color of his eyes. Hair the same as she remembered, was cut short but slicked back away from his face. When he looked at her, the hardness in his face disappeared.