The trick is to protect it from reaching your brain. Naked to the public eye and only visible to the owner, a soul bleeds every time it’s put through pain. Groomed every second of every day, they made sure to cover all of the darkness lurking in my soul with the false guise of perfection. I often thought about this while I was locked inside my Doll House in Patience. Love will never die if it exists on the lips of death. It’s my birthday, remember? Nothing that happens tonight counts in real life.īecause the next morning, I start my new job as the nanny for a high-profile client.Īnd my new boss, the owner of this swanky Manhattan penthouse, and the father of these two adorable hellions? Hanky-panky with a rich hottie in the back room of the event I’m crashing? Then my date arrives, all gleaming cufflinks and tousled hair, steely blue eyes and a body honed to masculine precision.Īnd melt, they do. The dress, the limousine, the red carpet… I thought they were meant for me. I thought my invitation was a birthday present from my best friend. HUGE? I accidentally fell for the incomparable Huxley Cane.Īnd, apparently, my date to Manhattan’s most exclusive ball. Can you imagine?īut people do crazy things when they’re desperate. We're talking about living in a mansion, intimate double dates, and pretending we were head over heels in love.
he wanted me to be his Vivian Ward, you know, from Pretty Woman-minus the frisky behavior. He was stomping around the block like some sort of gorgeous ogre, mumbling about a business deal gone wrong and attempting to finagle his way out of it.Īnd that's when we bumped into each other.īut next thing I knew, I was scarfing down free chips and guac, listening to this man lay out all of his problems which led to his big ask. I was trolling a wealthy neighborhood in Beverly Hills, searching for someone to take me as their bride, you know, to make my arch nemesis jealous who consequently just fired me.
My meet cute (well not so meet cute) is slightly different. And the answer is usually some bubbly, lovey dovey tale of being struck in the bum by Cupid’s arrow. The quintessential question asked to every couple.
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