Page 9 of My Dearest Mackenzie

That was when I knew Rachel was absolutely correct: I was putting Mack on a pedestal. But it didn’t matter because I had to figure out what happened with Paps and Milly, no matter what.

“Are you in, or what? It’s one night, maybe more…”

My best buddy, Spencer, had been on the phone, going after me for the last ten minutes over an impending double date with two supermodels from California. He was unofficially dating one of them.

“Dude,” he went on like the born and bred West Coast boy he was, “I’m telling you, she’s gorgeous. Sports Illustrated swimsuit hot. And smart! You seemed into the idea last weekend.”

I’d halfheartedly agreed to the whole double date when we’d been on a golf weekend, just to get the guys off my back. You never date, they’d ribbed. Just take ’em home and send them on their way. And they don’t mind! Don’t you want to wake up to the same gorgeous, intelligent seductress in the morning?

This was mostly Ryan talking, but Ryder also had chimed in. The married life isn’t so bad, he’d said unconvincingly.

I like my coffee alone in my kitchen and black like my heart. I’m glad you enjoy being married, Ry. And as for my lack of dating, it’s my choice, was my response while rolling my eyes. These guys had been in my life since grad school, and while I hated to admit it, they were the closest I had to family other than Milly and one lone guy from my football days.

The coffee bit was my usual reply to this type of commentary. Ryan and Spencer were my non-football friends. Spence and I were proudly still single while Ryan was married to his college sweetheart. Ryder was on his third wife, so he surely wasn’t influencing me anytime soon.

Alone and black is cold and lonely. You know what? You should pick up a romance book and see what love is all about. Plus they’re hot! Trish is devouring one as we speak, and I reap the rewards, Ryan had said. He was so smitten, and it showed.

Okay Ry, I’d told him. I’ll take your word for it. I wasn’t having it.

Don’t blame me. Go out with Spence’s friend. Maybe you’ll fall for someone for a night or three. Make it a multiple-night romp in the sheets and maybe more.

Sadly, this was the typical ribbing that went on between my graduate school guy friends and me. I held myself up as a politically correct type of man and often was annoyed with them for their crude banter. I hated locker room talk—even the idea of it, the nickname and all, perturbed me—since my junior year in college. It could have been Milly’s influence, or the time I was the focus of the talk, but I shoved all that shit to the back of my mind.

Especially Milly. She was taking up ample space lately. And as for the past, I’d spent enough time dwelling on those dreadful months of college.

My graduate school friends and buddies only grasped part of my relationship history but wanted me to date regularly. They knew for certain that I had my nights in the sheets, but those weren’t part of my talking points. Usually whomever I found myself in bed with understood it was simply lust or scratching an itch, and it was the same for them. Women were liberated these days and were allowed to be their own sexual beings with other priorities than landing a man.

“Come on. Melinda won’t go unless I find someone for Sela,” Spencer finally admitted, still droning on.

Despite his blond locks and easygoing attitude, Spencer was anything but. When he set his eyes on a prize, it usually became his. One thing though, he never accused me of being anything but myself—a loner when it came to love. His brother was gay, and he too led the charge in dispelling myths when it came to relationships with our asshole friends. But this time felt different. And I might be a solo man when it came to everlasting shit, but I was a damn good friend.

“I really like Melinda and want to see her again, and this is the situation. So do me a solid. Okay, man?”

“Okay, I’ll go, but I have to make an appearance at a work event first in Herald Square. Then I can swing over to the Athletic Club. Is that where you’re meeting?”

“I would never want to disappoint Melinda. Never.”

“I know, I know. Now shut it and let me get back to work.”

Spencer disconnected the call, knowing I’d be there to chat up sensual Sela while he tried to sell himself further to Melinda, the supermodel. It wasn’t a punishment. Plus I had to respect a woman who wouldn’t ditch her friend, and a man who would do anything to make a woman happy.

I knew nothing about either.

“Ready?” Corey popped his head in my office a few hours later.

I was getting off a conference call with the managers of Silky, discussing a new rollout of scented lotions. I nodded, taking one last look at my emails and standing up. “Give me a minute to change into a fresh shirt.”

“Got it,” Corey said, heading back out to his desk.

Stepping into my private bathroom, I wondered why I had agreed to this event, let alone the date. Because I wasn’t an evil man. I cared for my friends and the community, or so I told myself.

I was wondering if anyone else recognized this about me when Corey said, “Thanks again.” He spoke quickly as I came strolling out of my office in a white shirt and the same dark gray pants I’d been wearing. I’d traded my Ferragamos for black-on-black Gucci sneakers, and swapped belts.

“No worries,” I told Corey for what felt like the eighteenth time, but maybe it was the first. I was beginning to wonder…

“Bailey is super appreciative,” Corey added.

With a nod, I dismissed the conversation, but I could tell Corey was still mulling over my involvement in the Back to Work, Ladies event. “It’s a win-win. Bailey knocked it out of the park in her job, bringing in a company like Silky to partner. And we look like heroes. I like your sister and all, but I don’t do anything that doesn’t benefit me. Stop worrying yourself over it.”

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