Marrying Mister Perfect (27 page)

The producers had been in heaven.

Now, he and Katya were alone in the limo—if
you didn’t count the camera crew—headed to her hotel to drop her
off. She’d been in a pissy mood since the corn maze and things
hadn’t improved since. If she’d been a better sport about it, he
might not have been tempted to tease her now. As it was… well, it
was all in the name of ratings, right? It had nothing to do with
the fact that he was mad at her for making Lou feel awkward this
morning.

“I’m so glad you had fun,” he said with false
good cheer. “We try to go to the corn maze and hayride every year
at least once. And then there’s the camping. I just can’t get
enough camping.” The truth was, he hadn’t been camping in years.
They just never had the time, but he did enjoy it, so it wasn’t a
complete lie.

An expression of bald horror flashed across
Katya’s face before she managed to school her features. She must
have sensed she’d lost ground today, because she suddenly leaned
into him and gave him a syrupy smile. “Outdoorsy men are so sexy,”
she purred.

Jack looked down into her exaggeratedly sexy
face and marveled that she had once made his insides knot with pure
lust. She was gorgeous. Jaw-droppingly so, but the more he got to
know her, the less attractive she became. And it wasn’t just that
her inner beauty couldn’t compete with her outer shell. There was
something else at work here.

Lou. It wasn’t that Lou was his ideal of
beauty, but rather that she’d somehow taken over that concept in a
bloodless coup d’etat. Katya looked overblown next to her. Her face
seemed
wrong
somehow, because it wasn’t Lou’s.

God, he had it bad. What was he going to do
if she really didn’t want him? If a parade of gorgeous women on
Marrying Mr. Perfect
couldn’t cure him of wanting her, what
could?

He would worry about that tomorrow. Right now
he had to focus on getting away from Katya without getting smeared
by her lipstick. Everything else could wait.

Chapter
Twenty-Five

Marcy Henrickson was perfect and the worst
part was, Lou couldn’t even hate her for it.

Natalie had been nice enough—a little
nervous, but sweet. Lou hadn’t been able to imagine her with Jack,
but she was a lovely girl, if a little undefined, as if she hadn’t
been shaped by life yet. But Marcy.

Damn.

The petite brunette had a sharp wit, an easy
smile and a ready laugh. And worst—or perhaps best—of all, she made
Jack smile. He was comfortable with her. Happy.

The kids took to her immediately. Emma even
crawled into her lap with her worn-to-pieces copy of
The
Lorax
and demanded Marcy read to her. And she did. Complete
with funny voices and goofy sound effects. Emma had looked at her
like she was pure magic from that moment on.

And Lou hadn’t even been able to work up a
good bout of jealousy. Marcy was just too damn likeable. Too
down-to-earth. Too sweet. And far too sympathetic. Her slightly
tilted green eyes seemed to see
everything
, like some
benevolent, omniscient goddess who just happened to have been
dropped into the body of a petite and pretty romance novelist from
Ohio.

It was almost too demoralizing for words.

Of course Jack would be three-quarters in
love with Marcy by now. Who wouldn’t be? Lou was practically in
love with the woman herself and she’d never swung that way.

Lou sat on the stairs, watching the cozy
family scene in the living room below. Marcy fit in so easily.
Jack’s parents already adored her. Lou wrapped her arms around her
knees and tried not to let her depression show, but it must have.
Marcy smilingly separated herself from the group, weaving behind
the cameras. Everyone assumed she was slipping off to find the
washroom, but instead she crept over to where Lou sat in the
shadows on the stairs.

Marcy sat a couple steps below Lou and
pressed her back against the banister. “Do you mind if I join you?”
she asked belatedly.

“I’m not exactly the life of the party up
here, but you’re welcome if you want to hide from the cameras for a
few minutes.”

Marcy’s smile turned wry. “We’ll see how long
they let me go unfilmed. Usually we max out at about seven minutes
of privacy.”

Her smile invited comment, so Lou asked, “Do
you mind? About the lack of privacy?”

Marcy shook her head. “It can be a pain in
the ass, but the experience is flat out fascinating. Can I tell you
a secret?” She glanced surreptitiously at the cameras and a pair of
dimples flashed in her cheeks. “I didn’t come on
Marrying Mr.
Perfect
expecting to fall in love. I mean, seriously, the odds
are terrible, and I’ve seen these shows before. Scandal, drama, you
betcha. Love? Long odds, sugar. Very long odds.”

Lou had to agree. The odds of ever meeting a
guy like Jack were terrible. “So why do it?”

“Oh, honey. The drama. The scandal. It is
nirvana itself for a girl with an eye for the ridiculous and a yen
for romance. I’m a student of human nature and this is a pretty
extreme example of human mating rituals. It is just fascinating.”
Marcy leaned in conspiratorially. “It probably makes me a horrible
person, but every time one of the girls threw a screaming fit about
how
her
connection with Jack was more profound than some
other girl’s connection, Hell, I ate that shit up. My mother would
tell me I wasn’t being Christian, but I wasn’t the one pulling some
girl’s hair just because we’d both been put in an awkward
situation.”

Lou’s eyebrows popped up. “Was there really
hair pulling?”

“Mostly metaphorical, but yeah, there was one
actual cat fight. I thought Miranda was going to wet herself with
glee.”

Lou laughed in spite of herself. Marcy was so
relaxed, so easy to get along with.

So perfect for Jack.

Her laughter died on her lips. Neither Marcy
nor Jack had gone on the show
expecting
to meet the love of
their lives. They’d just gotten lucky. That one in a million shot.
Lou should be happy for them. She knew she should, but instead she
just felt hollow. Maybe she could be happy for them later. After
the engagement was announced and the last of her hope died. That
damn bulletproof hope.

Lou looked up to find Marcy watching her
closely.

“So, Lou, is there anyone special in your
life?”

A blush started on her chest, climbing north.
“Sorry?”

“You’re so important to Jack. I’m glad we
finally got to meet,” Marcy said. “I knew from day one when he was
talking about you that any girl who wanted to end up with Jack was
going to need the nod from you. I was glad he had someone like that
who would always have his back and I know how badly he wants you to
be happy. I was just wondering if you had anyone who set you on
fire.”

“I’m not really a fire kind of girl.”

“Honey, every girl is a fire girl with the
right guy. We just need to find you yours.”

Lou grimaced. “I guess I’m behind the curve.
You’re supposed to be spending your twenties dating, right? And
now…”

“All the good ones are taken,” Marcy finished
for her. “I hear you, sister. You’re preaching to the choir here.
Guys like Jack just aren’t unattached out in the real world. And I
don’t do unrequited passion for unavailable guys. Not my
thing.”

No, that’s all me.
Lou glanced across
the room to the man of the hour. Jack had noticed their
conversation. He was watching them and for a moment she thought she
caught a hint of an unguarded expression. Was that love she’d just
seen as he looked across the room at Marcy?

Some of the cameramen had also noticed their
tête-à-tête and a crew was circling closer for a better shot.

“Do you love him?” Lou was surprised to hear
those words spring out of her mouth.

Marcy looked over at Jack, a wry little smile
tugging at her mouth. “Jack is an amazing guy. He’s the kind of guy
it would be hard not to fall in love with.”

Lou followed her gaze.
Preaching to the
choir, sister.

Marcy’s hand closed over hers, pulling her
attention back to the woman smiling at her side. “I do hope we can
be friends,” she said softly. It was a far cry from the borderline
threats the other girls had given her, as if they couldn’t get her
out of Jack’s life fast enough.

But which would be worse—a sudden eviction
from Jack’s life or being force to watch him be wonderfully happy
with someone who wanted to be her friend? A quick slice or a slow
interminable burn. She must be a masochist. Endless torture seemed
infinitely preferable.

Lou turned her hand beneath Marcy’s to clasp
her fingers. “I hope he picks you. And when he asks you to marry
him, I hope you say yes.”

Marcy’s eyes flared wide with a sudden flash
of surprise. “Thank you,” she said, though there was a note of
question under the words.

Lou looked away from Marcy’s too-intuitive
gaze, relieved when the Suitorette was called back into the planned
scene with her future in-laws. Lou stayed in the shadows on the
stairs, focusing on keeping it together as the foundations of her
world seemed to shift beneath her.

In some small corner of her soul, she’d
expected Jack to come home unattached. She’d assumed he wouldn’t
meet anyone good. That they would all be as plastic and fake as
Katya. She’d assumed the show was exploitive and contrived and
there couldn’t possibly be real emotion fostered in that
pressure-cooker environment.

She just hadn’t factored in the existence of
someone like Marcy.

She’d told him to look for love on the show
and in two weeks, Jack could be engaged to Marcy. Lou had to
prepare herself for that.

Across the room, Jack laughed at something
Marcy had said, rocking back and forth in his chair. Lou searched
her memories, trying to pin down the last time she’d seen him laugh
like that. Marcy had done that.

Her romantic fantasies that he would realize
Lou was the best one for him were just that. Another form of
pretend.

It was for the best she’d already stepped
aside. He hadn’t exactly confessed his undying love in the kitchen
the other night, and heaven knew they’d both been too drunk to be
sensible back in the Jacuzzi. Perhaps he’d just been trying her on
for size before settling down with Marcy. The show certainly
encouraged that sort of thinking.

As Lou sat on the stairs, a strange sense of
closure came over her—like she was watching a chapter of her life
end. Sad, undeniably, but there was also an odd freedom beneath the
grief.

Four years of fantasies and delusions. Four
years of wanting someone as close as the next room who never grew a
single inch closer.

Had she really wanted him at all? Or had he
just been a convenient fantasy? So much more convenient than taking
a chance and striking out in search of her own life. He said he
could never have done it without her, but that wasn’t strictly
true. His parents would have helped—though they weren’t exactly
warm and Gillian’s parents were more the jet-setting type than the
babysitting kind. Lou could have helped. She hadn’t
needed
to move in. And she certainly hadn’t needed to stay as long as she
had, infiltrating his life, falling in love with him and his
children a little more every day.

She’d been selfish and foolish and so scared.
It was safe to love a man who would forever be out of reach and
never return her passion. Her heart was never truly at risk because
it was padded by the cushion of impossibility. She might as well
have fancied herself in love with Leonardo DiCaprio—telling herself
that she really did have a chance with him as long as he remained a
bachelor.

Cowardly. That’s what she was. All the while
feeling so proud of herself for being so noble. So helpful.

It was time to stop living the lie.

She had to move out.

#

“I thought I had you all figured out, Jackson
Doyle, but you pulled a fast one on me.”

Jack ambled toward the street where a car was
waiting to pick Marcy up, his arm looped through hers as they
strode up the walk, surrounded as ever by cameras. “Oh?”

“I thought you were head over heels for Katya
or Natalie, but you’re not, are you? That change I saw in you last
week wasn’t about them at all.”

Jack felt a slow flush creeping up his neck
and wondered if the cameras would be able to detect it in the dark.
“Oh?” he said again, trying to keep any inflection out of his
voice.

Marcy grinned at him, showing him
unsuccessful the attempt had been. “
Oh
, indeed.” They took
two more steps before she cocked her head at him and murmured,
“She’s crazy about you, too. In case you were wondering.”

Jack almost missed a step. “Excuse me?”

“Head over heels. It’s written all over her
face.” Marcy tipped her head to the side and smiled knowingly. “I
approve wholeheartedly. If I’m going to be jilted, I’m glad it’s
not going to be Katya’s silicone perfection taking home the
prize.”

“What makes you think...” He wasn’t sure how
to finish the sentence.

“Let’s call it women’s intuition.” Marcy
stopped a few steps from the limo and turned to face him. “So, what
are you going to do now? She doesn’t know you care for her. It was
almost tragic watching her pine for you tonight.”

Jack gave up pretending he didn’t have a clue
what Marcy was talking about. “I can’t say anything because of the
show and she’s pushing me away because she’s worried about how it
will affect the kids and everything is so complicated right
now.”

“Excuses.” Marcy wiped that away with a wave
of her hand. “I don’t have time for love or my life is too
complicated right now are just excuses women tell themselves when
they don’t want to admit they desperately want to fall in love.
What you need is the Grand Gesture.”