Dear Cupid by Julie Ortolon

clamped an arm about his waist. “It’s just too rich.”
    “I will not put up with this. Dylan, come on, we’re leaving.” Taking her son by the hand, she headed for the door.
    “I’m sorry, Mommy.” Dylan’s voice caught. “I didn’t mean to make you mad.”
    Her heart twisted at the sight of his tears. “I’m not mad, sweetie. Well, not at you.” She dropped to one knee to dry his cheek. “You didn’t know any better. In the future, though, I’d prefer that you not show people my Web site. That’s Mommy’s secret, okay?”
    “Why?”
    “Because ...” She floundered for an explanation. “It just is. Now, promise you won’t tell anyone else.”
    “Okay.” Dylan sniffed.
    “I don’t know what you’re so embarrassed about, Kate,” Mike said. “It’s a great-looking Web site.”
    “No, I guess you wouldn’t understand.” She cast him a lethal glare over her son’s head. What would he know about a husband who publicly belittled her “little hobby” and privately berated her to never embarrass him again by mentioning it to his colleagues or clients? And all because her column involved romance. No doubt, if she wrote about any other subject, Edward would have proudly told everyone that his wife was an online columnist. Deciding not to get into any of that, she rose with Dylan’s hand firmly in hers and faced Mike. “I came down here to tell you that Jim has arrived. He’s taking care of the problem so there’s no need for me to stay.”
    “Wait a second,” Mike called as she turned to leave. “What time do I pick you up tomorrow?”
    “Tomorrow?”
    “For the party.”
    She started to tell him again that taking a date on a wife hunt was a ridiculous idea; but sighed in defeat. “What time does the party start?”
    “Seven o’clock,” he answered. “But I doubt anyone will get there until eight or nine.”
    “Then pick me up at eight.”
    “You got it.” He nodded. “Oh, and Kate,” he called as she turned toward the stairs.
    “What?” she growled.
    A grin spread slowly across his face. “Wear something sexy.”
    Rolling her eyes, she left the room with Dylan in tow. Men were so predictable. Or most of them were. Mike, however, went beyond her comprehension sometimes.

Chapter 9
     
    “
WEAR
something sexy,” Kate snorted to Linda the following evening. “It would serve him right if I wore a burlap bag.” Dressed in a floral satin bathrobe, she rummaged through her closet looking for something to wear. Something simple and conservative. Something befitting a dating coach rather than a date.
    “I have to admit, your first account is certainly ... unusual.” Linda lounged back amid the mountain of peach and gold pillows on Kate’s four-poster bed. “Since I started Wife for Hire, I’ve interviewed maids, nannies, landscapers, and housepainters, but I’ve never had a client ask me to find him a wife.”
    “I should have told him no,” Kate said as she considered a black shift her ex-mother-in-law had talked her into buying. The outfit hung straight from her breasts to her hips, making her look forty pounds heavier. She held the dress before her and looked in the mirror. “This whole thing is completely absurd.”
    “So why did you take the account?” Linda tilted her head to study the dress, then made a face that expressed Kate’s sentiments exactly. Black made her look like she’d been dead for a week. “Not that I’m complaining. I’m thrilled to have you working with me. Besides, I think Mike Cameron hiring you makes sense in a spooky, cosmic sort of way.”
    “Actually, you’re right.” Kate hung the black dress back in the closet since her ego refused to wear anything that made her look that bad. “It’s enough to make you believe in fate, isn’t it?”
    “What do you mean?” Linda asked.
    Kate continued digging through the closet. “Only that here I was, doubting my ability to be Dear Cupid, even before Gwen threatened to cancel me, which is