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“I know. I prepared for this.”

She raised a brow. “You’re orange, dude.”

“I tried to use bronzer to get the beach look. I figured women liked it.”

“You have a coffee stain on your shirt, you’re wearing a lab coat, you haven’t cut your hair since 2000, and I feel like I just got dragged into the woods and buried under a flock of pine trees to die. Is that your cologne?”

He gave up and began picking at his nail. “It’s proven women are susceptible to the emotional power of scents. A leisurely walk in nature evokes feelings of happiness.”

“Not with half a bottle. I’m experiencing more of a horrific run through the forest while a deadly black bear chases me.”

“I overshot. I had to work late. Besides, I don’t want a woman who believes clothes or looks are important.”

Kennedy sighed. “Clothes are important. A first impression gives you the opportunity to show the other person you care. You don’t need to sport Calvin Klein, but clean, pressed, and at your best increases your chances to meet the right person.”

“I tried.” His eyes lit up. “Would you like to go to dinner Friday night?”

“No.”

“You didn’t ask me here for a date, did you? You wanted to kick my ass.”

She smothered a laugh. It was a shame. Good intentions in a male were gold, especially one who truly wanted to find love and didn’t want to hide behind casual sex and a few good times.

Unless . . .

The idea took root, flowered, and exploded into full-bloom roses. Unless she took him under her wing. Taught him how to interact with women. Gave him a makeover. Coached him to close a first meeting to a real date instead of waffling in the shark-infested waters with no help. A surge of excitement tingled in her blood, something she hadn’t experienced in a long time. Possibility.

She ached to transform him.

She was damn good at her job, and had numerous solid matches to back up her confidence. Lately, she’d wondered if she was going through a slump. Nothing excited her anymore. Her own dates were commonplace and led down an endless path of disappointment. The lovers she took to bed were satisfying for an hour or two, but in the harsh morning light, she felt no need to keep them around. Her career was satisfying, but she hadn’t done anything spectacular or out of the box lately. She was stuck, while everyone around her seemed to be moving forward at a rapid pace. Most of her close friends were engaged or involved in permanent relationships. Usually she adored the dating scene with the lure of the unknown and expanse of possibility spread before her. But she had struggled with burnout lately, and began spending most of her hours at Kinnections or hanging with girlfriends.

But this man presented a true challenge.

Kennedy switched gears and downshifted into business mode. First, she needed more information before making the commitment. He remained ultra still in the chair, no fidgeting or impatient movements. Definitely a desk jockey. “What’s your full name?”

“Nathan Ellison Raymond Dunkle.”

Fascinating. This just kept getting better and better. “You got stuck with a real doozy, Ned.”

His face remained deadly serious. “I know. If my mother was still around we’d sit down and have a conversation regarding her original intentions.”

“You know if you put the R in, you come up with NERD.”

The unibrow lifted again. “If you think you’re being clever, I’ll have you know that even the junior high jocks figured that out pretty quickly. You’ll have to work much harder to impress me.”

Kennedy fought a smile. Good. He had a sense of humor buried under all that intelligence. You couldn’t teach a person that part, you either owned the trait or not. Definitely raw material to extricate and polish. “Touché. And what do you do?”

“I’m an aerospace engineer.”

She pressed her finger against her lips and pondered the amazing scene unfolding before her. Did this get any better? “You’re a rocket scientist.”

Impatience simmered from his frame, though he remained still. “Yes, that’s what an aerospace engineer is. But we don’t call ourselves rocket scientists any longer. It’s outdated.”

Her gaze fell to the pocket protector and his outfit. “I apologize.”

His demeanor shifted, and he gazed at her with sudden suspicion. “What is it you really want? I apologized for how I came across to Bernadette. You don’t want to date me. Why am I still here?”

Kennedy tried very hard not to lick her lips and ask for a cup of cream. A nerdy, rich rocket scientist who wanted to get married and meet his match. This was her swan song—her Eliza Doolittle—her crowning achievement and challenge of a lifetime.

“I have a deal to offer.”

“What type of deal?”

She smiled. “The deal of a lifetime. I’m going to get you everything you’ve ever wanted. I’m going to find you the woman of your dreams. All you need to do is listen.”

He blinked. Pondered. And leaned forward.

Gotcha.

He stopped picking his nails and studied her with a razor-sharp gaze. “How? Who are you?”

“Kennedy Ashe. I run the Kinnections matchmaking agency with two of my partners. We structured the speed-dating event for our clients tonight, but we’re also looking to expand. Our focus is to match couples for long-term relationships. Our statistics are quite impressive, and I can give you plenty of information to sort through. You strike me as a numbers person. Results. Correct?”

The big picture seemed to click into place. He pushed his glasses back up his nose. “You ran the event? You’re a saleswoman.”

“Recruiter. I have a proposition for you, Ned. I’d like to help find your wife.”

Disappointment flickered over his features. She watched his shoulders sag. “I see. You want to sign me as a client to your matchmaking agency. How much?”

Giddiness swept through her. His doubtful, accusing stare confirmed his sharp intelligence. This was going to be fun. “Ah, you think I’m a hustler, don’t you? Think I want to take a huge deposit, promise you the world, and walk away, right?”

“It did cross my mind.”

“I’d be disappointed in you if it didn’t. I think I can help you. My main role in Kinnections is to take the clients and give them the tools to meet and connect with the opposite sex. People have issues. The world is hard, especially meeting new people. Sometimes, people need to learn to get past some of their social barriers in order to present themselves at their best.”

An unruly snort burst from his lips. “Oh, I see. You want me to lie and pretend I’m someone else in order to get the girl. That’ll never work.”

“Why not?”

“Because it’s a mirage. I can’t change who I am at the core. I don’t want to.”

“Neither do I. Look, if you don’t get a chance for a woman to see who you really are, you’re never going to find the woman of your dreams. I’m not going to change the person you are—I have no need to. But I will work on some simple surface things in order for you to have more opportunities. First impressions are critical. I’m talking about a bit of polish. A little refining in social conversation. Make sense?”

He scratched his head. The shaggy hair parted, then fell back around his face like a curtain. “What’s in this for you?”

“Job satisfaction. If I succeed, maybe more business for Kinnections. And an opportunity to help. That’s it.”

“How much?”

“One thousand is the initial sign-up fee. It includes counseling, makeovers, and two dates.”

“And if I agree?”

She sensed surrender, but it needed to be on her terms. He was a project that would take up all her time and energy. “If you agree, I’ll find your match. But you’ll have to put yourself completely in my hands.”