Page 20 of The Boyfriend Swap

“I would never toy with Mrs. McAndrews.”

The conversation halted for a while as Perry sang along to the music and I quickly decided I preferred his singing voice—a rusty whisper that reminded me of John Mayer—to listening to him speak. As traffic slowed down, I gazed out my window at the trees lining the sides of FDR Drive. Colorful fall foliage had given way to melting snow on bare branches.

“What kind of law do you practice?” he asked, breaking what I considered a contented silence.

“The kind I don’t like to discuss after hours.” Unlike my father, I avoided work-related dialogue unless I could bill my time.

Perry nodded. “Right. Is there anything you want to know about me, then?” He gave me a practiced smile as if I were one of the anchors onExtraasking who he was wearing on the red carpet.

Having discovered Perry’s last name really was Smith—either I was totes lucky or a fledging psychic—I’d already looked up his IMDb page which, aside from a teeth-whitening commercial, an appearance onLaw and Order: SVU, and a few Off Broadway productions, was sparse. “Not really.” I paused. “Although we should probably discuss the game plan for this weekend.” The ride from the city into Northern Westchester where my parents lived in Scarsdale was only about an hour and we’d already been driving for twenty minutes.

He shrugged. “If you want.”

Amused by his nonchalance, I asked, “Don’t you want to know who else will be there so you can prepare?”

Turning up the volume on his iPod, he said, “I prefer to be surprised.”

If this was how he warmed up for auditions, it was no wonder his IMDb page was so unimpressive. “It would make me feel better if you didn’t go in cold,” I said over the music.

“I really need to practice my improvisational skills, if you don’t mind.”

A chill ran down my spine as I imagined Perry turning the entire weekend into an acting exercise. What if he adopted a British accent around my dad’s English friends to practice for a role in the BBC’s nextMasterpiece Classic? I’d suggested Perry use the weekend as an opportunity to hone his talent to incite him to sign on. I meant it, but feared he’d lost sight of the big picture. “Like I said, you’ll have full access to our piano and I’m sure the guests will love hearing you sing. You have a great voice,” I said, figuring flattery was the way to this man’s heart.

Perry smiled knowingly.

I knew it. “But let’s focus on the real reason Will’s with Robyn and you’re with me this week.”

Perry groaned. “I forgot about Will. He’d better keep his hands on the right side of Snow White’s panties.”

“Ew.” I shook my head in disgust. “I’m sure our respective partners will behave. I keep Willverysatisfied.” I’d made sure our last time together was super memorable just in case.

Perry gave me a sidelong glance and smirked. “If you say so.”

My mouth snapped open in response to the unexpected slight. My sex appeal had never been described as “understated.” “Will was right about you.” He didn’t like the way Perry spoke to Robyn, and I had to agree his filter was nonexistent.

“Yeah? What did he say?” he asked with a wide grin.

Clearly, he assumed whatever Will said was positive. I got the feeling you could insult this guy six ways to Sunday and he’d say “thank you.” Giving him a quick once-over as he absently pulled his fingers through his longish hair, I was taken aback by his blatant beauty. The gods of looks certainly didn’t hold back the day Perry was born. Too bad they were so stingy with his humility. Ignoring his question, I said, “Anyway, back to the reason you’re here.”

Perry yawned and raised a hand to his mouth. “Man, I’m beat. You mind if I take a nap?”

“Actually, we need to go over a few things before we arrive at my parents’ house. For instance, how we met, how long we’ve been dating. Once we get initial introductions over with, they’ll leave us alone. And then we’ll keep telling new people the same story. I have a few thoughts. Are you ready?”

Silence.

“Perry?”

The only response I received was the sound of Perry snoring away as if the passenger seat of my car was his own personal Posturepedic.

Chapter 6

Robyn

After almost three hours of driving, we finally arrived in Bala Cynwyd—the residential community in the Philadelphia suburbs where Will and I both grew up. As we drove along City Avenue, Will moved his head from left to right as if taking in all the sights for the first time. Amused, I asked, “Has it changed much since the last time you were here?”

Will grinned wide. “Not even a little bit. Although I don’t think the LA Fitness was there nine years ago,” he said, pointing to the gym in the Bala Cynwyd Shopping Center.

“You haven’t been back at all since your family moved?”

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