Page 7 of My Dearest Mackenzie

Turning the card in my hand, I read her name aloud, as if I didn’t know it. Ms. Frankie Burns

It listed the store where she worked—one of New York’s finest and oldest.

Men’s Department

I’d bet she made a killing. Between her deadly looks and smart wit, she was likely to capture the heart of every shopping male in a ten-mile radius.

By Appointment Only

This meant she was pretty damn excellent at her job. And spent all her time around men; she knew how to handle and manipulate the Y chromosome. It figured; she sold suits to overeager men. One glance at her and you would know any man with a taste for women would be a goner. Even when she ran off at the mouth, she was the perfect combination of sexy, sultry, and cute.

“I’m going to head out.” Corey poked his head in, jolting me from a fantasy of being fit for a suit by the one and only Frances. It did sound a little dirty coming from me…

“I thought you left.”

“And miss the show?” He half smirked, partially smiled at me.

“I’m warning you,” I told him to no avail.

“That one packs a punch, and apparently packs a mean cookie. I called down to security and told them not to fall for her baked goods anymore.”

“Well, at least you did one right thing today.”

“I don’t think it’s me you have to worry about, boss. Pretty sure the blond-haired pipsqueak who keeps weaseling her way into your life is the one you need to look out for.”

For the second time today, someone turned and strode out of my office, not allowing me a chance to reply.

“She is. She is.” I spoke to the back of Corey’s large frame, hoping he didn’t hear me admit the truth.

Damn that asshole, I couldn’t help myself from thinking. It had been a few days since Mackenzie “call me Mack” Miller had unceremoniously asked me to leave his car. The nerve! Our conversation was over, according to him, and I was expected to jet away gracefully.

My thoughts were going wild as I smoothed my hand down the front of my camisole. Staring at myself in the mirror as I got ready for work, my mind wandered to a thousand different places. I took in how my early summer tan contrasted with the pale pink fabric of my suit, while I examined my abdomen. Turning to the side, I breathed out heavy, pushing and puffing my stomach as far as it would go, which wasn’t much at all. To most, my obsession probably seemed seated in my work in fashion and style. I knew otherwise.

It had been close to eight years since my life took a screeching turn, yet I still checked for a pooch. My deflated belly only mocked me. If it could speak, it would ask why I keep doing this… Alas, my stomach didn’t talk.

And I wasn’t a great listener, so case closed.

Snagging my coffee cup from the dresser, I walked into the bathroom and took my last slug before applying Silky’s Bar-Bay pink lipstick. Sealing the cap back on the tube, I scolded myself for even buying it, let alone wearing it.

It had been about three weeks since I’d first visited an actual Silky Skin store. Of course, I’d known all about the cosmetics and skin care line, but I wanted to see everything for myself before heading to meet Mackenzie Miller. I’d sampled a few of the products over the years at work, but the brand took on a new meaning when Paps revealed a few of his secrets to only me.

My sister, Ashley, and I always thought he’d been in love with someone other than my grandmother, Sally, but it was only in the last few years of his life that he became more transparent. For some reason, he didn’t share his story with Ashley, and I wasn’t going to be the one to tell her.

Later, he admitted why he’d shared this information with me. Based on my immense loss, he wanted me to know that he too had experienced the same level of pain. The losses were not the same, but in his mind we had something in common. Mostly, I was mad at my family, the church, and our little community, all of whom had promised if I was a kind and obedient girl, good things would happen. They didn’t happen.

Paps had spent a good part of his life at odds with his religion after his broken love story—maybe that was why he lumped us together. But he could’ve stood up and had a happier ending. I was sure of it and desperately needed to know why not.

Now, tucked in my pencil skirt and blazer, I spent most of the day dealing with men like Mack. Arrogant, wealthy, and powerful assholes, who thought they could do no wrong and deserved everyone’s attention the minute they occupied a room. Well, I wasn’t afraid of his kind, and I’d strode into work armed with a fresh batch of cookies and planned to ambush the man in question at the end of the workday.

The minute I’d stormed into his office, I almost forgot my mission. That was the most terrifying problem with Mackenzie Miller—he cast a spell on me, causing me to lose my words and my way if I wasn’t careful.

If he got his looks and charisma from his grandma, I understood why my Paps fell for her.

All I wanted was to show him some of the letters I’d found and apologize for any actions on the part of my family that might have led to Rose’s unease. Although I suspected her family was the more outspoken one, not mine. My parents seemed to be the first generation to treat children with hostility, but that was a different story arc.

But…but…when it came to this particular tale, freaking Mack Miller got under my skin. Literally, I felt twitchy when I was around him; my fingers burned to touch and feel him all over. And then I went and held his hand and a fire erupted in my belly. I was an active volcano when it came to him, and he wasn’t the least bit affected. At all. He’d dismissed me for the second time, and to say my ego was bruised was putting it lightly.

I wasn’t sure if it was my need to share the information with him or his lack of sensing my feelings or both, but when I got home on Friday night I made it my personal mission to get the man to agree to meet with me.

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