Marrying Mister Perfect
Read Marrying Mister Perfect Online
Authors: Lizzie Shane
Tags: #doctor, #international, #widower, #contemporary romance, #reality show, #single dad, #secret crush, #nanny, #reality tv, #friends to lovers
by
Lizzie Shane
Copyright © 2015 Lizzie Shane
Smashwords Edition. All rights reserved.
Without limiting the rights reserved under copyright above, no part
of this publication may be reproduced, stored in, or introduced
into a retrieval system, or transmitted in any form, or by any
means (electronic, mechanical, photocopying, recording, or
otherwise) without the prior written permission of the copyright
owner and publisher of this book.
This is a work of fiction. Names, characters,
places, brands, media and incidents are either the product of the
author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to
actual events or persons, living or dead, is entirely
coincidental.
Sometimes it takes a reality television show to show
you the love that’s right in front of you...
To Louisa Tanner, Jack Doyle is perfect—heart
surgeon, loving single father, and best friend a girl could have—so
it's no surprise when he's tapped as the next Mister Perfect for
the reality dating series
Marrying Mister
Perfect
. But watching her secret crush romancing gorgeous
women on national television? That flat out sucks—even if he will
never see her as more than a pal.
Jack is skeptical of reality shows as a path
to love, but drastic measures are needed to shake him and Lou out
of their rut. His friend deserves better than being his live-in
nanny and will never chase her dreams if she is busy taking care of
him and his kids, so he vows to take the show seriously and find a
new wife.
But the more stunning women he woos on
command, the more he begins to realize the only woman he wants just
might be the one he left back home.
How can he seduce his best friend without
jeopardizing their friendship? Especially when the cameras are
always rolling...
Table of Contents
Acknowledgements
My deepest thanks to all those who have helped me get
this book out into the world, especially Kim Law, Liz Talley, Kali
Robaina, Kristan Andrews, the Rubies, and my amazing parents.
Chapter
One
“How much do you love me?”
Miranda wedged the cell phone between her ear
and shoulder, missing her Bluetooth like a phantom limb and
wondering how many anti-cell phone laws she was breaking as she
swung the oversized rental car into the narrow parking lot of Mel’s
Place. “That depends,” she told her assistant. “Are you asking for
a raise?”
“No. but if you feel like showering me with
gifts when you hear my news, I take Armani and Gucci,” Todd said,
sounding smugly confident that whatever gossip he had was
that
good.
Miranda steered the rental slowly through the
lot, searching for a space wide enough for the behemoth of American
machinery and its crappy turning radius. She spared a single
longing thought for her mini-Cooper as she began the
twenty-seven-point turn necessary to wedge the SUV into the only
available space. “So what’s this news that’s going to inspire me to
max out my credit card in your honor?”
“After Damien Ross was arrested last night in
Florida—”
“Wait—
what
?” She slammed on the brakes
and the SUV jerked to a stop so abruptly it rocked for a moment
afterward. She twisted around to make sure she hadn’t grazed
anything with the behemoth. Damien Ross. The astronaut who was
supposed to star in the season shooting in
three weeks
.
“What did he do?”
“Drunk and disorderly, driving under the
influence, speeding, reckless endangerment—you name it. So far each
of the networks is leading with a different charge. How have you
not seen the coverage? I thought you were in Chicago, not the dark
side of the moon. Besides, Glen has sent out like fifteen emails
about
getting in front of the problem
.”
“My emails haven’t been syncing properly to
my phone since I updated it, and my mother has a strict no
television policy whenever I visit.” She cautiously resumed her
park-and-wiggle routine, finally managing to get the behemoth into
the narrow space. “So Damien’s out?”
“Oh yeah,” Todd said with inappropriate
relish—he did love drama, which was an advantage in their line of
work. “Getting hammered and trying to break the land speed record
in his Corvette isn’t exactly wholesome Mister Perfect behavior.
Marketing is already stripping his name from all the press releases
and getting ready to pimp our new guy.”
“They can’t be thinking of using Javier.”
Their back-up Mister Perfect had been in the tabloids nonstop for
the last few months—most recently with a sexting scandal. Trading a
drunk driver for a womanizer wasn’t going to improve the image of
the show.
“Glen suggested Albert.”
Miranda groaned. “He can’t be serious. Albert
is a sweetie, but he’s the most boring man on the planet. We can’t
build a season around him.” But she had a feeling her boss was,
indeed, serious.
“He is serious,” Todd echoed her thoughts.
“And that’s where my news comes in.”
“The news that’s going to make me want to buy
you expensive gifts.”
“Glen is out.”
Miranda’s heart almost stopped beating. It
was lucky the car was already in park or she probably would have
totaled it. “Say that again.”
“The network guys are pissed. Ratings have
been falling off, ad revenues are down, and now Glen is in damage
control mode rather than using the publicity to pimp the new
season. Glen doesn’t know it yet, but I have it on very good
authority from the big guy’s executive assistant that Glen will be
packing his desk before you get back from your little family
weekend.”
“Oh my God.”
“Exactly. They’re going to need a new
Glen.”
Executive producer of
Marrying Mister
Perfect
. Her freaking dream job.
Holy shit.
“And whoever
lands them a new Mister Perfect to make this season of the show the
hottest goddamn ticket on television…”
“Has a pretty solid argument for taking over
Glen’s job,” Todd finished for her.
“Todd, I love you.”
“Should I reschedule your flight home for
this afternoon?”
Miranda groaned. “Shit. No. If I leave before
my brother’s wedding on Saturday, my mother will disown me.” She
tapped a rapid pattern on the steering wheel, wishing she hadn’t
made her mother that idiotic promise that she would leave her iPad
in Los Angeles. “Do you still have that friend at
Dancing with
the Stars
?”
“Remy? Of course.”
“Call him. See if they have any minor
celebrities who didn’t make it onto their show who might be
interested in some extra publicity this season. But it has to be
someone with a squeaky clean reputation. Someone we can really sell
as Mister Perfect. I’ll work my contacts from here and with any
luck we’ll have someone ready to sign before my flight lands at
Burbank on Sunday.”
“We make our own luck,” Todd said, parroting
one of her favorite sayings.
“Damn right we do. Good work, Todd.”
She disconnected the call, tempted to
immediately start making calls, but a glance at the time showed she
was already late for her lunch date.
Crudly.
It was tempting to cancel the lunch entirely
and take the two hours her mother expected her to be gone to call
everyone she knew in LA who might have a lead on a Mister Perfect
candidate, but Louisa Tanner had been a good friend for too long.
And it had been too long since they’d seen one another. Miranda
hadn’t been back to the Forrest Park suburb of Chicago in over five
years—not even for Christmas, as her mother loved to moan. Lou was
the only one of her old high school friends who had kept up with
her in that time, never seeming to mind when Miranda’s crazy
schedule made her take months to reply to an email or return a
phone call.
Lou didn’t deserve to be stood up—even if the
opportunity of a freaking lifetime had just been dropped in
Miranda’s lap. So she hitched up her big girl panties and climbed
out of the behemoth, heading into Mel’s Place—the diner that hadn’t
changed so much as a plate since it had been their favorite high
school hangout.
Lou was waiting in the third booth on the
left and Miranda was suddenly very glad she hadn’t canceled when
her friend popped out of the booth with a wide grin and a squeal of
delight. “Miranda-freaking-Pierce.”
Miranda felt an answering dopey smile
splitting her face and rushed forward. “Louisa-flipping-Tanner.”
She threw her arms around her friend and they laughed, rocking back
and forth, before separating and tumbling into either side of the
booth. For the first time she really felt like she was
home
,
sitting across from someone who didn’t want something from her—or
secretly want her job—for the first time in ages.
“I’m glad you finally stopped boycotting
Forrest Park. What’s it been? Fifteen, sixteen years?” Lou teased,
pale blue eyes sparkling.
“Five. And yet you look exactly the same. Do
you just not age? You could still pass for seventeen if you didn’t
look so maternal.”
Lou’s hair was still the same mousey shade
halfway between blonde and brown, scraped back into a messy
ponytail. She looked like she hadn’t put on an ounce in the eleven
years since high school, but she still hadn’t learned how to dress
for her body—the Mom Uniform of jeans and a light knit sweater hung
off her body making her look more shapeless than she was. But her
eyes gleamed and dimples flashed. She practically glowed with
happiness.
Lou Tanner was happy. The thought warmed
something in Miranda. Proof that there was justice in the
world.
“Mommy-hood clearly agrees with you.”
Lou flushed. “Oh, I’m not—“
The pubescent waiter appeared with their
waters and Lou broke off her protest. They both ordered their high
school usuals—chocolate chip pancakes and a strawberry shake for
Miranda, Monte Cristo sandwich and a root beer for Lou.
“Thank God you haven’t become one of those
gluten-free-no-carb-no-fat-no-flavor Californians,” Lou said as the
kid headed off to put in their order.
Miranda flapped a hand casually. “Calories
don’t count on vacation and since this is my first vacation in five
years, I might as well live it up.” She grinned, leaning across the
table. “So tell me all about you and Sexy Jack. When did you two
finally stop pretending you were
just friends
and start
playing house?”
#
Lou felt the blush start at her collarbones
and creep toward her face, gaining intensity as it rose. By the
time it hit her eyebrows, it had reached Def Con One and she knew
her entire face would be purple.
“We aren’t actually—that is we never
actually—it isn’t—” She forced herself to stop babbling and spit it
out. “We aren’t together like that. Still just friends. I’ve just
been helping him out with his kids since his wife died.”
Miranda’s face fell with comic speed. “You’re
kidding. That was like four years ago, right? I thought, from your
emails…”
And Lou had let her think that. She’d let
everyone she didn’t see in person think that she and Jack and the
kids were one big happy family. The Facebook Illusion. It wasn’t
her fault if they drew the wrong conclusion when they saw the
Christmas card poses, right?