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Chapter One
The Dating Cycle
This was the most perfect date Kennedy had been on in at least six months. She and Troy met by chance at a Starbucks, and as far as she could see, there was nothing wrong with him. He had a good job, straight teeth, and an excellent command of the English language. If shoe size was an indication, he would do the job she had in mind just fine.
"Don't you think so, Kennedy?" he asked.
What had he just said? Kennedy had been so busy staring at him like a piece of meat, she'd missed an entire conversation. She raised her eyebrows and tried to look amused, then nodded. The man was fine as hell and trying hard to find something for them to talk about, but the way he looked, it was hard to focus. Muscular arms, a yoga body, and a designer-jean ass. He had the total package.
Kennedy sat back in her chair with her legs crossed at the ankles in her favorite "come hither" body position. They were eating at Fonda San Miguel's, known for its great Mexican food and trademark automatic white curtain at the door. It slid open with a metal shushing sound as new patrons entered, and, being that she was facing the door, Kennedy couldn't help but be distracted. Lack of sex made it hard for her to concentrate. Troy, or at least she thought that was his name, had been talking endlessly about himself since they'd sat down. He'd chosen to sit with his back to the door and didn't even flinch at the noise the curtain made as it slid along its track and didn't notice the group of three women that entered, but Kennedy did. Like Kennedy, they were dressed to the nines. She squinted and tried to focus. Her breath caught in her throat as she recognized one of the dresses as one she and her friend Marie had shopped for together. What are the chances? She thought. They'd certainly made more than one.
She hoped that Marie wasn't the one in the dress. The two of them had been best friends since college, where they'd pledged their sorority together. They'd added Mai later when they all ended up living near one another. She was a few years older, and she was also their sorority sister. Over the years, she was often the glue that kept the three of them together.
There was no need for Troy to meet any friends or family or anyone like that. He probably wouldn't be around too long. Or at least that was the plan.
As a general rule, Kennedy tried not to get into anything that might be construed as a relationship. It made things too complicated. Strictly short term had become her mantra. She was successful because she'd thought like a man and she let that philosophy carry over into her personal life. For the most part, the strategy worked well. As far as Kennedy Johnson was concerned, the only reason men were necessary was when her batteries ran out.
Troy touched her hand and she snapped back to attention. Kennedy smiled, knowing that her dimples would flash. Few men could resist them. There was no time to worry about it or any of her other friends showing up. She had to get back to the dating cycle, as she called it, the cycle of things that had to be done to make a date last past dinner. Kennedy prided herself on being able to get it right, and that meant being able to control the direction of the evening. She turned her attention back to her date, nodding again. It was good to look as if you were paying attention to his every word, even if all you heard was blah, blah, blah. Her finger absentmindedly circled the rim of her martini glass and she wondered if she could convince him to wear a gag in bed. She chuckled inwardly at the thought. And they said women talked too much. As hard as it was for a single sister, Kennedy had every intention of doing what was necessary to let Mr. Man think he was the one that got to third base on the first date, when truth be told, she would be the one holding the bat. It had been way too long, so long, in fact, that Kennedy was sure that if the wind blew hard enough, dust would fly from underneath her skirt, and she was ready for some spring cleaning.
"Enough about me," he said. "You haven't said a word about you."
Kennedy smiled coyly, then wet her lips just enough to make them shine but not enough to take off her thirty-two-dollar lipstick. "There's not that much to tell really. I'm just not that interesting." That was code for "There is nothing about me that I want to share with you." And even though he'd said it, Kennedy knew that what he was really interested in required no words.
"C'mon. How can that be, ma? As gorgeous as you are? What do you do again? Tell me about you, Miss Lady." Troy flashed a smile that revealed teeth that Kennedy was sure had been professionally whitened recently. He cared about his hygiene. A good sign. Good enough that she was willing to let him slide for calling her "Miss Lady" and every other nickname for women she hated in one breath. At least he hadn't called her a dime piece. Dime piece was game over.
The muscles in her neck tightened but Kennedy forced herself to hold her smile. It was okay to cut him some slack; after all, this was just the first date and it wasn't like she was trying to get married. "I work for G,P,E, and M." She almost hated to tell him. Everybody knew the largest ad agency and one of the largest companies in town by those four letters.
No Girl Needs a Husband Seven Days a Week. Copyright © by Nina Foxx. Reprinted by permission of HarperCollins Publishers, Inc. All rights reserved. Available now wherever books are sold.
Excerpted from No Girl Needs a Husband Seven Days a Week by Nina Foxx
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