Mollie Molay - Marriage In Six Easy Lessons

“He didn’t even say he was sorry,” her mother said. “Maybe it’s all for the best,” she added slowly as she glanced at the five silent bridesmaids.

Instead of collapsing on the satin-covered bench behind her, April took off her bridal veil and sighed her relief.

Something was finally right.

Six months later

“A happy relationship requires that a woman make her man feel masculine.”

—The Mating Game. Lucas Sullivan, Ph.D.

April Morgan, assistant editor of Chicago’s Today’s World magazine, gazed in disbelief at the manuscript in front of her. As an editor of a magazine popular with young professionals, she’d edited a number of strange submissions, but this one beat all.

The article “The Mating Game” was apparently based on a sociological study the author did, originally published in a scientific-community newsletter. The article proposed to enlighten female readers about the behavior men expected in a potential mate. To her growing dismay, the author, an academic, actually went on to list six rules of behavior that he concluded women must follow in order to attract and keep a mate.

From her viewpoint, that of a bride jilted at the altar not too long ago, the article was ludicrous. The author was either naive or deluded. No matter how noteworthy the man’s credentials were, assuming they were real, how could any twenty-first-century man actually believe men preferred a Stepford Wife to a real woman?

More to the point, how could any man in his right mind even want a woman whose mind had been altered to turn her into a man’s idea of an ideal woman?

April frowned. She was aware of other theories that made more sense than his, in particular the one she preferred to believe: a person was driven by a biological imperative to mate with the fittest—read, strong genes—of the opposite gender. To a layperson like her, that clearly meant an innate desire to produce strong and healthy offspring. A goal that she’d been determined to reach before it was too late and that had unwisely led her to the altar.

In retrospect, April realized that accepting Jim’s proposal had been prompted by the loud ticking of her biological clock.

But according to this Lucas Sullivan, a man’s search for a mate was based solely on a woman’s social behavior! Even an academic like him, or perhaps especially an academic like him, should have known that choosing a mate was more than merely a game. It was a life-altering choice, one to be made only one time—and very carefully.

She’d learned this the hard way. A wedding fiasco that had left her at the altar at the ripe old age of thirty-two had also left her a lot wiser about men. Most men, she believed, were largely self-centered and chauvinistic like her ex, and as far as she was concerned there wasn’t a man currently around her who was worth a second look.

Not that remaining single had been her choice, April mused as she put a question mark in red pencil alongside a sentence she thought needed clarification. If all had gone as she’d planned, she would have honeymooned in Hawaii with that traitorous fiancé of hers, James Elwood Blair. He’d gone on his honeymoon all right, only not with her.

She made additional notations of questions she thought needed answers in the margins of the manuscript and read on. It only became worse.

She had to bite her lip to keep from laughing.

“April, I’m glad to see you’re working on ‘The Mating Game’ article,” a familiar voice broke in. “April?”

It took her a moment to realize who was speaking. Ready to apologize for her rudeness, she glanced up at Thomas Eldridge, the magazine’s publisher and editor in chief. To her chagrin, he wasn’t alone.

“Sorry,” she said, gesturing to the manuscript. “I’m afraid I was caught up reading this unbelievable submission. To tell you the truth, I was trying keep from laughing.”

“Laughing?” Tom said with a warning frown. He gestured to the man standing at his side. “If you think you can contain yourself, I’d like to introduce you to Lucas Sullivan. Lucas and I went to Northwestern together and belonged to the same fraternity. Lucas, this is April Morgan. April is one of our—” he paused significantly “—top editors.”

April cringed. Damn. Of all people to have heard her flippant remark, why did it have to be the author of the piece?

Before she could apologize, Tom went on. “Sullivan here is a noted sociologist, April. The article you have there is one that I asked him to write. The original study was published last year in the National Association of Science Writers newsletter.”

Although her heart was in free fall at her faux pas, April managed to remain calm and look interested.

Tom cleared his throat. “I should tell you I’m impressed with Lucas’s conclusions, which, incidentally, concur with mine.” He cast April a quelling glance. “After you get a chance to read the piece again, I’m sure you’ll be able to work with him just fine.”

April nodded politely while she digested the subtext of his words—work with him or you’re out of a job. She’d been at the magazine long enough to know her still-single boss was a man who took his position as the magazine’s publisher and editor in chief very seriously; he wouldn’t countenance anyone making light of his decisions.

She couldn’t blame him. It was no secret that the magazine’s circulation had been falling steadily in the past six months. Or that Tom had been searching for a way to turn the circulation figures around. But with Sullivan’s article? Sure, it was controversial enough, but could such a biased and outdated article accomplish a miracle?

It had to. Her job depended on it.

“I’ve decided to use Sullivan’s article as the lead feature in the September issue,” Tom continued, filling her silence. “It’ll be a tight squeeze, but we can do it. What do you think, April?”

Speechless, April swung her gaze to Lucas Sullivan. At first glance, the man looked like the stereotypical absentminded professor, a thatch of unruly light brown hair, clothes a little rumpled, smelling ever so slightly of musty old books.

But on second glance…The hairs on the back of her neck began to tingle. Under his staid exterior was one very sexy male. Early thirties, tall and broad-shouldered, he had a nicely sculpted mouth and a chin that begged to be touched. As if that weren’t enough, his warm brown eyes were most definitely of the sort called bedroom eyes—heavy lidded and innately sensual. Judging from the hungry stares of the females on the other side of the glass windows of her office, she wasn’t the only one to respond to his deceiving appearance. Although to give the man some credit, he didn’t appear to be aware of it.

“April?” Tom sounded faintly annoyed. “So what do you think?” he repeated.

“Uh…” April considered the question. How could she tell him she had little good to say about the article, its conclusions or, heaven help her, about its author’s intelligence when the man was gazing at her expectantly?

If she was honest, she’d admit that her unhappy near miss at matrimony might have colored her opinion of his article. Still, a chauvinist was a chauvinist, no matter what academic credentials he carried. Now, here was a man who, if the rules he espoused in his article were to be believed, had to be the ultimate male chauvinist.

Eldridge frowned. “Something wrong, April?”

“Uh, no,” April answered.

She suddenly realized she’d been more than rude.

She rose abruptly and held out her hand. “I’m pleased to meet you, Mr. Sullivan.”

He smiled slightly as he took her hand. “Call me Lucas, please,” he said with a wary glance at her desk. “Judging by all the red on these pages, you’ve been bleeding on my manuscript.”