Page 11 of Making Over Maris

“Okay.” He tried to not wriggle in his seat. He loved it when she got all…adamant. “So you’ll do it?”

“Yes,” she sighed. “I’ll do it.”

Relief cascaded through him. Relief and hope. It was a tiny sprig of hope, but hope was hope. “So when do we begin?”

She gazed at him. Some strange emotion he couldn’t interpret flashed over her features. “Now.”

Oh. God. Excitement and satisfaction and panic surged through him. “Now?”

“Yes. I need to do an assessment. You know. To figure out exactly where we are.”

He swallowed. “An assessment?”

“Of your game.”

“Okay.” He liked games. He scooted to the edge of his seat.

“Let’s pretend I’m a woman—”

“You are a woman.”

She wrinkled her nose. “Be serious, Jack.”

“I am being serious.” He was.

“Let’s pretend I’m a woman you see at a bar. And you’re interested.”

Oh. He was.

“What’s the first thing you do?”

Okay. He could wrap his brain around this. He shifted to the side and pulled out his wallet. Found his trusty cheat sheet and unfolded it and spread it flat on the desk.

“What the hell is that?” She gaped at the rumpled, well-worn paper.

“It’s my flowchart.” Duh.

Sara blinked. “You have a flowchart for picking up women.” Not a question.

“Naturally.” Didn’t everyone?

“Let me see that.” Before he could stop her she snatched the paper away. Scanned it. “Oh, God.”

He knew what she was seeing. He’d studied this flowchart a hundred times. Still, when she read it aloud, he winced.

“Picking Up Chicks.” She grimaced. “Seriously, Jack? That’s what you named it?”

“Yes.” What else would he name it?

“‘Step One. Assess the situation’. Okay. That works. ‘Does she seem cranky?’ Cranky? Seriously, Jack? Cranky?”

He shrugged. “It’s a critical variable.” It was. It was exceedingly difficult to pick up a cranky woman. “Statistically speaking—”

But Sara ignored him. “‘If Yes: Charm her from her bad mood. If No: Proceed with caution.’” Sara sighed and glanced up at him. “Proceed with caution? We’re not wild animals, Jack.”

“You kind of are.” This he muttered. She didn’t hear. Or maybe she did. Maybe she was ignoring him again. She did that.

With a derisive snort, she crumpled up his precious template for seduction and tossed it in the trash.