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On my computer screen, I perused the file on Buddy once again, bringing up his photos and taking in every detail of him. Cute in a rich guy next door kind of way. At least I wouldn’t be embarrassed to be seen with him while parading him around town.
A week later, I arrived at LAX in time to pick up Buddy. I held a simple sign with his name on it and stood poised and professional in the baggage claim area, ready to meet the man who I hoped would help me save my company.
Would he have good breath?
A friendly laugh that I could stand?
How about his scent? Something just right, not overpowering, not cheap?
Nice teeth?
Ugh. As the seconds ticked away, waiting for him, the nerves hit me. This could be worse than going on a blind date. I knew what he looked like from photos, but they could cover up all kinds of sins, whereas in person he could be quite different.
I kept my eyes peeled until, finally, a man approached, nodding and smiling at me. Holy hell, the photos did not do him justice. Forget cute and the guy next door. Buddy Rodgers and all his gorgeous swagger had my knees almost giving out the closer he came to me.
Where has he been all this time? I could have made him a star based on looks alone. If he could act or not, no matter; we hired coaches to develop our talent. Like judging a book by a cover, most movie goers loved a good-looking leading man, and Buddy missed his calling.
I drew in a quick inhale through my nose to steady myself, and his scent hit me. Unlike any soap or aftershave, the pleasant aroma held a chemistry all its own, and words failed me to describe. Fake or not, the first chance I got, I’d steal a t-shirt of his if I could.
“I’m Buddy Rodgers.” That deep voice, minty breath, white teeth, and a rumble in his chest of a chuckle—all better than any date I’d been on, and we were only a few seconds in. And it’d been far too long since my last proper date; well-timed appearances on the arm of my leading men for publicity never counted.
I cleared my throat with a scolding and a reminder. I needed Buddy to perform a particular service for me. That was it. But it’s too damn bad I wasn’t here to find a real husband.
The Stepdad’s Girl
BUDDY
Sobered up and eating a strict vegetarian diet, I was slimmer and looking rested, healthier, ready to take on the world as I exited the plane in L.A.
A new blue suit, freshly shaven, and with trimmed hair slicked back, I portrayed exactly the role I wanted to—a guy who had his crap together.
A week ago, I was aimless in a hammock at the beach. Today, I was a new man with new priorities. The future looked so bright. Where were my shades? The thought put a confident swagger in my step.
I’d always wanted to be a writer, loved movies, and after the whirlwind of the past week, I thanked my formerly drunk self for writing and mailing off the movie script. Because now the universe was mine to devour.
Well, who did we have here? A gorgeous blonde with legs a mile long in nude high heels and a tight blue skirt held a card with my name in the baggage claim area.
She glanced around, face-hopping, until finally lighting on me. I gave her a nod and my best let me turn you the fuck right on right now smile.
Our eyes met. Her blues shone, framed by long black lashes. Mine were blue too, and hopefully white and clear after trying sobriety the past week.
With her head cocked and puckered, red-stained lips, her crystal eyes ran a trail down my suit and back up. She judged me while looking poised to give me a kiss. I wouldn’t mind if she did. Something told me I’d better not screw with her, though, before this deal concluded.
“I’m Buddy Rodgers.”
“How do I know for sure?” My ears perked up at her silky, cool voice.
“Want to see my ID?”
“Yes, please.” She crossed her arms over an ample pair of breasts in a lace bodysuit under a see-through white blouse. And those lips still puckered. Plenty of ideas flashed through my brain about what she could do with those red beauties.
When I held out my ID, she barely glanced at it, fluttering her eyelashes between my card and my eyes. “I’m Honey.”
“Like the sweet stuff?”
“Exactly.” She finally broke out her smile and tossed her golden mane back with a flip of her hand.
“Is the car I requested ready?” I asked.
