Prologue

PROLOGUE

When you’ve had to tell as many “how we got together” stories as I have, you get a fair idea of the range of things a man will do to impress a woman, from thoughtful to absurd to downright unbelievable.

For starters, bro , did you really read Fifty Shades of Grey ?

But that’s only number one on the menu of items guys will pick and choose from in an effort to elicit flutters from a new lady.

I know men who claim to love Pride and Prejudice . Even go so far as to say they’ve read the book. And maybe we do get that desperate to see what women see in Mr. Fucking Darcy other than an English accent. Which I have, by the way, but I still don’t understand the deal with Colin Firth any more than the next bloke.

I’ve met fellows who swear they don’t like football of any variety—American or proper—to reassure a lady she’ll never be a widow to the footie. Or they’ll turn off a match on the TV with so much drama you’d think they were giving up a kidney.

Or a man’s résumé will become suspiciously plump with female-friendly hobbies. Show me a single man in a yoga class, and I’ll show you a lad who’s trying to score major points with the fairer sex.

The next thing he knows, he’s shaving his chest, shaving his toes, and shaving his balls. Which must mean he’s serious about her because that shit hurts.

When it comes to manscaping, I think a trim here or there can go a long way, but go too far and you’ll look like a porpoise. And what woman wants to roll around in the sheets with Flipper?

But by far the worst case I ever saw was a guy who swore to his sweetheart that he loved Ed Sheeran’s music. Even followed Ed’s Twitter feed and read reviews so he could convincingly wax on about the ginger phenom. (The fella even planned to tell his bride that he wanted “Shape Of You” to be their wedding song. I put my foot down. Go with “Castle on the Hill.” “Shape of You” is too obvious, and women can see through that lie.)

As happy as I am that it worked out for these gents, especially after they pay my invoice as a specialty wedding service provider, it seems like a lot of work to keep up with all that—retweets, nether-region maintenance, or the pointless hell of football abstinence.

I understand why men want to show off for women. Women are like sunshine and whiskey, lilies and diamonds. They’re sex and desire and everything good in the universe. They’re lovelier to gaze at than a priceless work of art. Hell, women are better than football, better than pints of ale, better than the Rolling Stones and occasionally even the Beatles, though I will deny that blasphemy even under torture.

Women make a man’s merry-go-round keep turning, make life worth living. And they deserve to be annoyed if a guy who swore he hated football has a drawer full of Manchester United souvenirs.

There’s a fine line between putting your best foot forward and shooting yourself in it, and it’s my job to help the lead-footed of the world win women without losing them.

Damn shame, then, that the one woman I’d really like to impress is off-limits.

With good reason. With a long list of good reasons, in fact.

So off-limits is how she’ll have to stay, even when I learn she desperately needs my specialized knowledge to impress a new investor.

But wouldn’t you know—I need something from her too.

Badly.

That can only mean it’s time to impress the hell out of myself by resisting every single temptation to step out of the friend zone with her.