Home > Searching for Beautiful (Searching For #3)(47)

Searching for Beautiful (Searching For #3)(47)
Author: Jennifer Probst

Her patronizing words made him more enraged. He still wasn’t sure why. Her self-imposed isolation drove him nuts, but the thought of her turning to someone else was much worse. He wanted to shake her until she understood how important she was. “You’re not better. I refuse to let that asshole push you out when you were born to be a surgeon. You can’t work at a matchmaking agency. It’s totally beneath you.”

The softness disappeared and turned to fire. She practically growled like a she-cat. “Who the heck are you to judge me or Kinnections! Did you suddenly turn into a snob, O playboy turned millionaire hotel magnate?”

Wolfe fought not to flush. “Don’t be ridiculous. I’m just saying you were meant to save lives, not make matches!”

She sniffed like it was a reasonable argument. “I disagree. This may be my true calling after all. I’m tired of stress and medicine and decisions that are life-and-death. I’m going to have fun. Who knows? Maybe I’ll even find real love.”

Irritation scraped him like a Brillo pad. “You’ll get bored of this place in a week.”

She stuck out her tongue. Was she serious? “No, I won’t. And I’m not quitting till I help make a great match for someone. I need to be around magic and hope. Hey, want to sign up? Kate says if I get clients on my own I get a recruitment bonus.”

He stared at her. “Are you kidding me? No, I’m not signing up for Kinnections. Listen, I’ll help you get transferred to another hospital. I can make some calls—I know some guy in Albany who’s high up the ladder. You can’t leave your residency when you worked so hard. We’ll fix this.”

“There’s nothing to fix. This is my job now and you’ll have to get used to it.” The phone rang and she brightened. “Gotta get that.”

Wolfe watched her run to the phone and lean over the desk. The skirt stretched over her full rear, rode up her thighs, and left her indecent. She wobbled a bit on three-inch stilettos till she found her balance. For God’s sake, she never wore heels. Had Kennedy gotten ahold of her? Why was it so hot in here?

He dragged his fingers through his hair and listened to her chirp about some upcoming mixer at the Purple Haze. She gave a low little laugh that sounded suspiciously like a giggle. Oh yeah. Kennedy had definitely done something horrible to her. She hung up, wiggled back around, and tugged down the indecent minuscule fabric that constituted office wear. Even her perfume was different. The lingering sweet scent of peach mixed with a sharp citrus and musk that tantalized. Was she working here to find dates for herself? No, that wouldn’t be like her at all. She used to say she needed months to get over a relationship. A broken engagement would take at least a year.

“Sure you don’t want to help me earn some more money?” She gave him a wink. “You’d be a hot commodity with the women.”

Ugh, he refused to be embarrassed. “No. I can get my own dates.”

“Fine. At least I’ll get something for signing myself up.”

He opened his mouth, then shut it. Opened it again. “What are you talking about?”

Gen grinned. “I’m going to be a new client of Kinnections!”

“You just broke up with David. You’re always bitching about people needing months in between serious relationships in order to heal. Remember that time I broke up with Allie, and you made me cancel my date the next weekend? You forced me to be celibate for two whole weeks!”

She rolled her eyes and cocked a hip out. The black top shifted and he caught a fragment of lace peeking from her shoulder. Huh? He had it on authority she only wore cotton underwear. “You needed to suffer. You broke her heart.”

“I did not. She knew up front what the deal was.”

“It’s still wrong. Claiming there’s no strings doesn’t mean things can’t change. She fell for you, and you walked away without trying.”

This time he did flush. “I explain to every woman I’m not interested in long-term—you know that. You always praised me for being honest and up-front.”

“Well, I’m changing my mind. I think it’s crappy. You need to begin looking at the future. Why don’t we be clients together? We can double-date!”

Wolfe wondered if he had had something bad for breakfast or if he really wanted to vomit. The image of them at a dinner table with two strangers was painful. She was giving him a headache.

“I’m happy the way things are. And I think the last thing you need is another emotional upheaval with some guy. Take a break from dating. Maybe you can learn a hobby. Knitting?”

She glared. “Am I eighty years old? No, I need to get my feet wet again. David almost broke something in me, and I want it back.”

Crap. When she put it like that, he’d do anything to help her. “Sweetheart, don’t you want to find healing within yourself rather than from outside sources?”

Her eyes widened. “Wow. You’re getting really deep. Usually, I’d agree with you, but I’m tired of feeling afraid and unsure. I want to be brave and take a leap into the unknown. Does that make sense?”

Yeah, it did. He didn’t understand why the thought of her diving back into dating bothered him so much. Usually they’d trade war stories and he’d help her get fixed up. What suddenly changed? Crankiness stirred so he changed the subject. “Why are you wearing that?”

“Huh? A skirt?”

“You hate fancy clothes. Did Kennedy try to do something to you?”

She stared at him like he’d sprouted horns. “You’re acting really weird, dude. Did you work too hard at the seminar? How was it?”

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