Mr. Right Now. Kate Hoffmann

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Mr. Right Now - Kate  Hoffmann


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features, a chiseled mouth and vivid green eyes. For a long moment, she couldn’t speak. Then the words began tumbling out of her mouth. “Oh—oh, dear. I’m so sorry. I—I didn’t see—and when you stepped in front—that’s probably a very expensive—are you all right—I didn’t—”

      â€œI’m fine,” he muttered, plucking at the soaked fabric of his dress shirt and silk tie. “It’s my fault. I wasn’t paying attention.”

      Nina reached over his table and grabbed the napkin dispenser, then tugged out a wad of napkins. But as she spun around to hand them to the man, she knocked over the tall mug of coffee on his table. It tumbled to the floor and splashed onto his shiny dress loafers. Half the napkins fluttered to the floor and Nina bent down to pick them up before attempting to wipe the coffee off his shoes. Good grief, he even had handsome feet.

      When she glanced up at him, she caught him smiling sardonically. “I don’t think I’ve got any coffee on my left pant leg,” he said. “Maybe you’d like to order another cup and finish the job?”

      â€œI’ll just get you cleaned up and then—” She reached up and dabbed frantically at the front of his pants, then realized where she was dabbing and groaned softly. “I—I guess you should probably do that area on your own.” What was she thinking? Nina glanced around to see the entire clientele of Jitterbug’s watching her with amusement. What were they thinking?

      He grabbed her elbow, pulling her to her feet. Afraid to look up, Nina halfheartedly wiped at his shirt with the sheet of paper she had clutched in her other hand. When he took it from her fingers and shoved it in his pants pocket, she had no choice but to meet his gaze. An apologetic smile twitched at her lips and she risked a look up. “I—I’m sorry. Sometimes, I’m so clumsy. Are you all right?”

      â€œI’m fine,” he murmured, his gaze fixed on hers for the first time. “And there’s no need to apologize. It was partly my fault, too.”

      She’d never seen a greener pair of eyes in her life. Or a sexier smile. Or a straighter nose. Or a—Nina swallowed hard. “But your shirt. It’s ruined.”

      He chuckled dryly. “I never liked this shirt. Gives me a good excuse to toss it.”

      For a long moment, they didn’t speak. Nina tried to remember if she’d apologized, but she couldn’t recall exactly what she’d said to him. Maybe it was the eyes, the penetrating eyes that seemed to send every rational thought running from her mind. Or the lips that looked like they’d been made especially to kiss women, and lots of them. Even the faint stubble of a beard was more than she could bear.

      Was this one of those men she’d been wondering about, the one in a million and a half, the last single decent guy in all of New York City? She glanced at his left hand, looking for the telltale wedding band. There was none. Oh, if he was the one in a million, she’d certainly made a mess of destiny! “Can—can I buy you another coffee?” she offered.

      He shook his head, his gaze never wavering from hers. “I was just leaving. I’ve got a meeting.”

      Her breath caught again and she waited for him to step away, to walk out the door and out of her life forever. For all she knew, she’d just dumped coffee all over Mr. Right and now he was going to just disappear without another word. “Of course,” she murmured. “And look at what I’ve done.”

      He glanced over his shoulder and winced. “I really have to go.” He grabbed his suit jacket and briefcase from a chair, then slowly turned and started toward the door. Nina took one step to stop him, but then she noticed the rest of the patrons still watching her.

      â€œI really am sorry,” she called as the door swung shut behind him. “A little cold water and a good non-chlorine bleach will get that stain right out!” She looked around the coffee shop, frowning. “Show’s over. You can all go back to your coffee,” she muttered.

      With a flush of embarrassment, she hurried back to her table and sat down. “Was that as bad as I think it was?” Nina murmured. “Did I make a total fool of myself? And was there anyone in this place who didn’t hear me giving him laundry advice?”

      Lizbeth reached over and patted her hand excitedly. “That was absolutely perfect!” she cried. “Honey, I didn’t think you had it in you, but that move was pure brilliance!”

      â€œWhat move?”

      â€œSpilling coffee all over that stunningly gorgeous man. I don’t even think I would have had the courage to do something so outrageous, especially when he had on a handmade French shirt. Those things cost five hundred apiece if they cost a penny.”

      â€œReally?” Nina squeaked. “Five hundred dollars?”

      â€œCouldn’t you tell? Oh, honey, the way it hugged his body and nipped in around that waist. It fit him like a second skin. That kind of shirt makes a girl wonder what’s underneath. Every woman in this place was pea-green with envy of you.”

      â€œIt was an accident,” Nina said numbly.

      Lizbeth gave her a sly look. “Oh, please. You expect me to believe that? So, did you give him your phone number? You know, offer to pay his cleaning bill? Buy him a new shirt?”

      â€œNo. He didn’t ask that I pay.” Nina frowned and looked over at the door. “He said he was going to throw the shirt out. I guess I should have offered. But it was his fault, too.”

      â€œYou didn’t give him your phone number,” Lizbeth stated, her voice flat and laced with disbelief. “Please tell me you at least got his name. Or you gave him yours.”

      Nina covered her face with her hands. “No. I just couldn’t think. I mean, there he was, all covered with coffee. And there I was,” she moaned, “rubbing his crotch with napkins.” She moaned again, this time with more emphasis. “I really screwed that up. For a second, I thought it might be destiny, but then he looked at me and my mind just went haywire and my knees went all wobbly.” Nina peered at Lizbeth through her fingers. “He probably wasn’t my type anyway, right? I mean, he was wearing a suit and I never go for businessmen. And he seemed a little uptight.” She drew a shaky breath. “And a guy who wears five-hundred dollar shirts is way out of my league. I’m sure it would never have worked out.”

      Lizbeth pushed to her feet, shaking her head. “Did you bother to look at the man? He’s every woman’s type! Nuns would lust after the guy.” She grabbed her purse and slung it over her shoulder, then wagged her finger at Nina. “Maybe you should place that ad. It’s clear that you don’t have a chance of getting a gorgeous man the regular way—by trickery and manipulation. I have to go, I have a date. But I want you to sit here and think about what you did wrong. We’ll discuss it later.”

      Nina nodded dejectedly, like a child chastised. “I don’t think I’ll be able to put it out of my mind.”

      â€œI’ll call you.” Lizbeth turned on her heel and walked toward the door. When it closed behind her, Nina busied herself with picking up her belongings. She grabbed the pad of paper and started to shove it in her bag, but decided against it. Snatching up her pencil, she closed her eyes for a moment, then began to write.

      â€œCoffee Collision,” she murmured, writing the words out in capital letters. “Jitterbug’s in Manhattan, March 15th. My latte met your shirt. Call me.”

      Nina stared down at the text. Did she really have the courage to place the ad? Chances were remote at best that he’d see it. After all, he wasn’t the typical Attitudes reader. With a soft oath, she ripped the page off


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