Page 6 of No More Heartbreakers

I laughed. “You have too many toys already.”

“That’s not true.” She gave me her fabulous gap-toothed grin. “When I’m done with them, I always donate them to charity—reuse, recycle, repurpose.”

“Recycling boyfriends? How verygreenof you.”

Our weekend sportscaster had accepted a job in Birmingham when his contract ended, and our boss Janet had put out the call for applicants a few weeks ago. No doubt she’d already had at least fifty people from around the country contact her, desperate for the job.

Janet had an open-door policy. When we stepped inside her glassed-in office, she was sitting with her back to us, facing her large monitor. On the screen was the most appealing guy I’d ever seen—thick, dark blond hair, incredible bone structure, clear, light gray eyes.

But more than his looks, it was his smile that captured me. And the voice. Mmmm. Deep and a little raspy, just hearing it through a monitor filled my chest with bubbles and made me squirm. Wow. If a guy could do that to me via video file, how would I react to him in person? I didn’t want to know.

“Hirehim.” The thought came out of my mouth without my permission or intention.

Mara jumped right in. “Yeah, we seriously need more man-candy around here. Not that Dan isn’t yummy.”

Janet turned around to grin at us over her shoulder. “You don’t have to flatter me, girls. I know Dan isn’t exactly a new flavor—he’s like… the Charleston Chew of man candy.” She laughed, and we joined her.

Janet and Dan Patterson co-anchored the six and ten p.m. newscasts together. The husband-and-wife team had been at the helm of WPVG’s nightly news for the past twenty-five years—I’d watched them as a kid.

Local viewers had followed the Pattersons through the birth of their two daughters, her battle with breast cancer, and every major news event to happen in East Georgia for decades. People referred to them as one entity, Dan-n-Janet. She’d taken on the news director job as well eight years ago.

Janet hit the play button again, and we watched the rest of the guy’s audition reel. It was amazing how much you could tell about someone in four minutes.

He seemed to know his stuff. He had no accent at all, as if he’d grown up… nowhere, or maybe everywhere. He was funny, a creative writer.

He would appeal to female viewers for obvious reasons, but I could see guys watching him, too.

With his wide shoulders and high-testosterone jawline, he looked like an athlete, a man’s man kind of guy, minus the twenty-six inch neck some former-jock sportscasters had. In short, he gave very good TV.

The reel ended on a still shot of his face with his contact information printed underneath.

Aric Amore.His name is Aric.

Kenley wandered into the office and joined us. “What are we doing, ladies?”

“There you are. I was looking for you,” I said.

Mara gave me a shoulder bump. “Heidi was just drooling over our new weekend sports anchor.”

“Potential weekend sports anchor,” I corrected. “And I wasn’t drooling. I was just… looking.”

“Actually, Mara’s right,” Janet said. “I hired him. I was just checking his reel to get the correct spelling of his name for the promotions team. Aric starts tomorrow.”

Kenley stepped close to me and whispered, “I thought you weren’t ready to start dating again. I offered to set you up with Mark’s friend Duncan. He’s super-rich.”

“I’mnotready. And I’m not interested in any of Mark’s rich friends—or this guy.” I flipped a hand toward Aric’s frozen, beautiful face on the monitor. “He’s probably a total himbo, anyway.”

“Perfect,” Mara said. “How fast can he get here from… where’s he from?”

Janet answered. “He’s been working in Mankato. But his resume says he’s from California and went to college in Boston.”

“Ooh, a well-traveled himbo.” Mara grinned, rubbing her hands together. “Even better—and he’ll probably need some warming up when he gets here from Minnesota.”

“Minnesota?” I repeated, the image of a cheesy personalized plate on the back of a flashy red sportscar filling my vision.

I was starting to get a very bad feeling about our new hire. “Do you happen to know what he drives?”

Janet smirked. “I’m not sure if he flew down or drove or if he’s even made it to town yet. Either way, whenever he does arrive in Peachtree Valley, Georgia, he’s in for one heck of a culture shock.”

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