Dad's E-mail Order Bride. Candy Halliday
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one thing he did miss since he’d dropped out of society was having a woman smile at him the way Courtney had done now—a flirty little smile, the type of smile only a dead man could resist.
“Keep talking,” Graham said.
“What if we let Rachel think her idea worked when she first gets home? But then we tell her instead of you moving back to New York, I’ve decided to move to Alaska to be with you?”
Graham laughed. “To quote Rachel’s favorite expression, she would totally freak out.”
“Exactly.” She smiled again.
It took Graham’s gaze right back to her moist, pink lips. Memories of that kiss on the dock didn’t help Graham’s common sense, either. And whether he liked to admit it or not, the knowledge that a beautiful woman like Courtney had flown across the country to meet him was a huge boost to his turning-forty ego.
Why not go along with Courtney’s idea?
She was right. It wasn’t fair to put her in the middle of their fight all weekend. The situation was already awkward enough.
He’d honor Courtney’s request and keep things civil for the weekend. He owed her that much after what Rachel had done. But after Courtney left, Rachel’s life was going to change drastically.
And that was a promise.
Graham stuck his hand out. “Okay, it’s a deal. Let’s show Rachel what it feels like to be on the receiving end of a bad joke.”
CHAPTER THREE
THE MINUTE GRAHAM closed the bedroom door after bringing her luggage upstairs, Courtney fished around for her cell phone. She tossed her purse onto the bed and headed for the sliding glass doors that led out to her room’s private balcony.
Beth would laugh her ass off at this situation.
But Courtney’s mother?
Courtney couldn’t even go there.
In fact, coming to Alaska was the first time she’d ever truly crossed her mother, who also happened to be her boss and the owner of The Woods Advertising Agency, where Courtney was vice president. Her VP title, however, had nothing to do with being the CEO’s daughter. Courtney had earned that title by following faithfully in Lisa Woods’s workaholic footsteps.
And she had no life to prove it.
When she couldn’t get a signal, Courtney closed her phone and leaned against the railing, thinking back to the night of her birthday party—the real reason behind why she was in Alaska now. They’d celebrated at Courtney’s favorite restaurant; Beth, her mother and her mother’s constant entourage—the other executives at the agency.
Beth had saved her gift for last. She’d stood to get everyone’s attention—as if that were necessary. Avant-garde described Beth in every sense of the word; her dark hair in a buzz cut; her jewelry and wardrobe so outrageous she turned heads everywhere she went.
“Courtney likes to claim her being born on Valentine’s Day was Cupid’s idea of a cruel joke,” Beth had said. “She also likes to claim that the reason she’s still single is because there aren’t any real men left in the world.”
Everyone had laughed.
“So I decided to prove her wrong on both accounts,” Beth had announced proudly. “Love is out there waiting for her if she’ll look for it. And where better to look for real men than the last frontier?”
That’s when Beth had held up a printed-out page with Courtney’s picture on it—a full-body shot Courtney had forgotten about. Courtney had posed for it when she did an interview for a magazine about the changing trends in advertising—dressed for success and leaning casually back against her desk with a confident smile on her face.
“This,” Beth had said, handing Courtney the sheet, “is your new profile page on LoveFromAlaska.com. And when I checked the site an hour ago, you had thirty-five real men dying to meet you.”
Courtney had thought Beth’s gift was hysterical. So had everyone else.
Except, of course, Courtney’s mother.
Her mother had remained silent all through dinner. She’d remained silent through the birthday cake dessert. She’d even remained silent during a heated debate about the direction they should take with a new ad campaign when they were having brandy later—and her mother remaining silent during any debate was unprecedented. It wasn’t until they were alone in her mother’s private town car on the way home from the restaurant, however, that Courtney had received an earful.
“I expect you to cancel the membership to that disgusting dating site immediately before anyone sees it,” her mother had demanded. “If word gets out you’re peddling yourself on the Internet like some cheap tramp, it would be a total embarrassment to the agency.”
“News flash, Mother. Online dating is the norm today.” Trying to appease her, Courtney had added, “Besides, it isn’t likely any of our clients will be checking out some dating site from Alaska.”
“It isn’t a risk I’m willing to take,” her mother had snipped. “As vice president you have a reputation to uphold and I expect you to do that.”
Courtney had assumed the discussion was over.
She hadn’t been that lucky.
“What I don’t understand,” her mother had said, “is where Beth got the idea you wanted some man in your life. If your so-called best friend knew you at all, she’d understand the agency will always be your first priority.”
Like mother, like daughter.
The thought had scared the hell out of Courtney.
Within minutes of being dropped off in front of her apartment building, Courtney had her laptop open. And that’s when she’d found the first e-mail from Rachel.
Reading what Graham had written about defining what you wanted before life defined it for you had been the equivalent of grabbing Courtney by the shoulders and shaking her until her teeth rattled. In every aspect of her life, in and out of the boardroom, she had the reputation of being assertive and confident—except when it came to her mother. At that exact moment, Courtney knew it was time to cut the cord.
That’s why she’d really come to Alaska. She’d come hoping to find herself.
But talk about material for a daytime talk show! She could already hear Dr. Phil now. “And how’s online dating working for you so far, Courtney?”
Still, things could have been worse.
Graham could have been a real ass about the whole situation. And who could really blame the poor guy? A crazy e-mail female from New York City had shown up on his dock, not only unannounced, but even demanding to know why he’d lied to her.
Courtney groaned just thinking about it.
At least Graham had agreed to a truce for the weekend. And she would do her best to make sure he didn’t regret that decision. She could handle being the peacekeeper, but she didn’t want to be the referee.
Especially since, in spite of everything, she was completely smitten with the man she’d come to meet. Graham had touched her deeply with his journal entries: his sensitivity; his appreciation of the type of assets you’d never find in some financial portfolio; his insight in being able to look back over his life and identify his mistakes. Plus, now that she’d actually met him, Courtney was so physically attracted to Graham the only way she knew how to describe it was freakishly scary.
And that was so unlike her.
Beth had always accused her of being too picky. Of always finding something not to like about the guys she dated, rather than focusing on things she could learn to like about them.
And maybe she was too picky. She’d just been holding out for that one guy who would make her heart