Trophy Husband Read Online Free PDF Page B

to find out. Because tonight marks the beginning
of Project Trophy Husband.”
    Erin is eager to play. “We know one thing
about a Trophy Husband. He has to be younger. A lot younger.”
    “You’re right. But how much younger?”
    Erin raises her hand, an excited student
eager to keep answering. “Well, you’re only twenty-seven, so
there’s not much wiggle room. So I say he must be between
twenty-one and twenty-three. Super young, and super hot, and
besides I can vouch for the appeal of a twenty-two-year-old
male.”
    Hayden leans forward placing her chin in her
long hands. Everything about Hayden is long. Her nickname is
Giraffe. Her legs are endless and skinny. She has the flattest
belly this side of Hollywood and equally thin arms. “Tell us more
about this vouching.”
    I flash her a smile. I’m glad that she’s
going along with this. That I convinced her this project will be
for the best. That it will be exactly what I need for the closure
she wants me to have. I need Hayden’s support in my life.
    Erin leans in conspiratorially. “Well, you
know I have a twenty-two-year-old client. Not the swimsuit model.
But this other guy is a cyclist. He’s on the LemonHead team or
something. He comes in once a week, usually Monday mornings. I
think that’s his off day. He has a perfect body. Not an ounce of
fat on him.”
    Julia points frenetically to the notepad.
“Write that down. That’s good. Perfect body. Not an ounce of
fat.”
    “So basically we’ve got three things,” I
say. “Twenty-one to twenty-three. He needs to be hot. And he needs
to be in spectacular shape. Where do we start? I mean, we have
Dybdahl. Who’s next?” Then I gulp. Because here’s the part where I
have no clue. Yes, I can tell you whether that skirt goes with that
shirt, I can sing Karaoke in front of a crowded room, and I can
make a prank phone call if properly dared. But ask me to find a
man? I met Todd when I was twenty-one. I have been with one man for
the last six years, and before then I was with boys. And not very
many.
    My momentary tough façade fades away, my
all-business persona slipping off to the hall closet. I’m just
McKenna right now. McKenna who got fooled by her boyfriend, who got
duped and dumped and left, with a dress to send to consignment,
dishes to be returned, and a cake that was donated to a homeless
shelter. I hear the residents that day enjoyed it, and for some
reason, that made me cry even more. Not that crying is hard for me.
I’m the girl who listens to Billie Holiday and Elvis, and dreams of
these foolish things. Things like love, and trust, and hope. Things
like faith in another person. My heart winces for a moment, and a
rebel tear forms.
    Then, a voice pipes in, a small but strong
little voice, coming from the other side of the kitchen. “What
about the Fedex Guy?”
    Hayden whips her head around. “Lena! What
are you doing up?”
    Lena smiles innocently. “Well, you always
say he is cute and I heard you ladies say you were looking for a
cute guy…”
    Hayden scuttles her back to bed, this time
shutting the door all the way and returning to the table.
    “So tell us about your Fedex guy,” Erin says
with a sly grin.
    But I don’t return the grin. Instead, I feel
a thousand seeds of doubt planting in my belly right now. I drop my
head in my hands and mumble, “Who am I kidding? I’m not going to
get a man. I don’t have a clue. I’m the girl who was left at the
altar. Who would want me?”
    “Who wouldn’t want you?” Erin counters.
    “And besides, I’m twenty-seven. Shouldn’t I
be, I don’t know, forty or something before I think about a Trophy
Husband?”
    “Why should age be a barrier? A Trophy
Husband is just that – a catch. A pretty young thing. That’s what
we’re going to get you, and you have what it takes to land a trophy
husband whether you’re twenty-seven or thirty-seven. You don’t have
to be Hugh Hefner’s age, McKenna.”
    “Thank god for that, but I