Mr Perfect Read Online Free PDF Page A

ladies across the street, not insult you when your opinion is different from his. Being nice is so important it's close to being number one."
    Luna nodded.
    "Okay," Marci said. "Hell, you've even convinced me. I don't guess I've ever known a nice guy. Number two: Nice." She wrote it down. "Number three? I have my own idea on this one. I want a guy who's dependable. If he says he's going to do something, he should do it. If he's supposed to meet me somewhere at seven, he should be there at seven, not come strolling in at nine-thirty or maybe not at all. Is there a vote on this one?" They all four raised their hands in an aye vote, and "Dependable" went down in the number three slot. "Number four?"
    "The obvious," Jaine said. "A steady job."
    Marci winced. "Ouch. That one hurt." Brick was currently sitting on his butt instead of working.
    "A steady job is part of being dependable," T.J. pointed out. "And I agree, it's important. Holding down a steady job shows maturity and a sense of responsibility."
    "Steady job," Marci said as she wrote.
    "He should have a sense of humor," Luna said. "Something more than an appreciation for The Three Stooges?" Jaine asked.
    They began snickering. "What is it with men and The Three Stooges?" T.J. asked, rolling her eyes. "And bodily function jokes! Put that at number one, Marci – no toilet jokes!"
    "Number five: Sense of humor." Marci chuckled as she wrote. "In the interest of fairness, I don't think we can dictate what form the humor takes."
    "Sure we can," Jaine corrected. "He's going to be our sex slave, remember?"
    "Number six." Marci called them to order by tapping her pen on the rim of her glass. "Let's get back to business, ladies. What's number six?"
    They all looked at each other and shrugged. "Money's nice," T.J. finally offered. "It isn't a requirement, not in real life, but this is fantasy, right? The perfect man should have money."
    "Filthy rich or comfortable?"
    That called for more thought.
    "I like filthy rich, myself," Marci said.
    "But he would want to call all the shots if he was filthy rich. He'd be used to it."
    "No way is that going to happen. Okay, money is nice, but not too much money. Comfortable. Mr. Perfect is financially comfortable."
    Four hands went up, and "Money" was written in beside the number six.
    "Since this is fantasy," Jaine said, "he should be good- looking. Not drop-dead gorgeous, because that could be a problem. Luna's the only one of us pretty enough to hold her own with a handsome guy."
    "I'm not doing so good at it, am I?" Luna replied with a tinge of bitterness. "But, yeah, for Mr. Perfect to be perfect, you should enjoy looking at him."
    "Hear, hear. Number seven is: Good to look at." When she had finished writing, Marci looked up with a grin. "I'm going to be the one to say what we've all been thinking. He should be great in bed. Not just good; he should be great. He should be able to make my toes curl and my eyes roll back in my head. He should have the stamina of a Kentucky Derby winner and the enthusiasm of a sixteen- year-old."
    They were still rolling with laughter when the waiter plunked their orders down on the table. "What's so funny?" he asked.
    "You wouldn't understand," T.J. managed to gasp. "I get it," he said wisely. "You're talking about men."
    "Nope, we're talking science fiction," Jaine said, which sent them off again. The people at the other tables were staring at them again, trying to overhear what was so funny.
    The waiter left. Marci leaned over the table. "And while I'm at it, I want my Mr. Perfect to have a ten-incher!"
    "Oh, my!" T.J. pretended to swoon, fanning herself. "What I couldn't do with ten inches – or rather, what I could do with ten inches!"
    Jaine was laughing so hard she had to hold her sides. Keeping her voice down was an effort, and her words shook with hilarity. "C'mon! Anything over eight inches is strictly for show-and-tell. It's there, but you can't use it. It might look good in a locker room, but