Gina Wilkins - The Boss's Marriage Plan

He wondered if Tess had remained on good terms with her former flames. He wouldn’t be surprised if she had. Unlike the volatile Sharon, Tess was the practical, pragmatic type. In the years she had worked for him, he’d never heard her carry on about romance and unrealistic fantasies.

Of course, he rarely allowed himself to think of Tess as a vibrant, available single woman. After all, she worked for him, and he’d never even considered overstepping their professional boundaries and risking their comfortable work relationship. She had just turned twenty-three when she’d applied for the clerical job with him. He’d been a couple months shy of thirty-one, and had already owned the business for over three years. Perhaps that was why he’d thought of her all this time as much too young for him, though the actual gap was only seven years. She would soon turn thirty, he mused, surprised by how quickly time had passed. He supposed it was only natural that she would now be considering marriage and children. After all, he’d given quite a lot of deliberation to those things lately, too.

She strolled in through his open doorway. “I thought I’d put this candle on your table. I know you don’t like a lot of froufrou in your office, but this isn’t too much, is it?” She held a hurricane glass candleholder with a little garland around the base. “You’ve got a few meetings scheduled in here during the next couple of weeks.”

He often eschewed the main conference room in favor of the cherry table in his office. Everything he needed was available to him in here—a projector and screen, whiteboard and display easels and blackout shades to hide the distracting views of the Arkansas River and the distant rolling hills. He loved his office. It was exactly what he’d envisioned back when he’d first started building his own business.

“I don’t mind a candle on the table,” he assured Tess, making her smile.

“How was your Thanksgiving?” she asked as she fussed with the garland.

“Nice. Noisy. The kids were wound up from all the attention.”

Both his brothers were happily married fathers. His older brother, Eli, a family practice physician, had twin girls, Madison and Miranda. Cute as little bunnies, they were almost five years old and full of energy. He was their “uncle Scotty,” and he adored them, just as he did his little nephew, too. Six-month-old Henry was his younger brother, Jake’s, kid. Both his brothers had been lucky enough to find their soul mates—Eli and Libby had started dating when both were in medical school, while Jake, an attorney, had met psychologist Christina at a cocktail party a couple years ago.

As much as he’d enjoyed the gathering, Scott had been painfully aware that he was no closer to having a family of his own than he’d been during the last solo holiday season. None of his relatives was actually nagging him to marry—after all, the next generation of Princes was already well established—but he couldn’t help wondering if they thought something must be lacking in him. Increasingly, he wondered the same thing about himself.

Without arrogance, he could admit he’d accomplished a great deal in his almost thirty-seven years. Valedictorian in high school. Summa cum laude college graduate. A master’s degree. His own business. He had a nice home he’d remodeled himself, with a couple of empty bedrooms he hoped to fill someday. All his life he’d heard about biological clocks, but he’d never quite understood the term until he found himself only a few years from forty without any immediate prospect of a wife and kids. During these past twelve months, he had attended cocktail parties and professional mixers—more than he would have liked, actually. He’d gone on blind dates, been to clubs and bars and charity fund-raisers. He’d met a lot of nice women, had some good times, made a few friends...but he’d yet to find anyone he thought would be a lifelong partner.

After his brief engagement to Sharon had ended so disastrously, he’d wondered privately if he was destined to remain a workaholic bachelor. He was accustomed to success, to achieving the high-reaching goals he set for himself. His only experiences with failure had been in the romantic area of his life. He really hated failure.

Tess stepped back to critically study the centerpiece she’d created. Apparently deciding it would suffice, she turned to the door, asking over her shoulder on the way out, “Have you signed those contracts?”

He reached hastily for the stack he’d yet to touch. “On it.”

He wondered half seriously what she’d have said if he shared that he’d been fretting about how to find a mate. Knowing Tess, she’d set her mind to solving that issue for him. He’d probably come in on Monday to find a line of qualified applicants standing outside his office door. Having trouble in her own quest wouldn’t stop her from setting to work on his if he asked.

His smile faded as it occurred to him that maybe he was on to something here. Oh, not the part about asking Tess to find candidates for him, but the idea that he’d been going about this all wrong. Perhaps he should approach this endeavor with the same attitude he’d used in establishing his successful business. Practicality and analysis were his strengths. Romance obviously was not. There had to be nice women out there who didn’t require all the fancy trappings of courtship, but simply wanted to marry an upstanding, decent guy and start a family. Surely a union based on common goals and values, preferably even friendship, would appeal to someone besides himself. Maybe if he spelled out from the start what he had to offer—and what he didn’t—there would be no artificial expectations that could only lead to another disappointing failure.

When he’d drawn up his original business plan, he’d made lots of lists. Where he needed to focus his efforts, how he wanted to solicit clients, specific steps for growing the business in a sensible, feasible manner and at a reasonable, sustainable pace. Perhaps he should approach his marriage plan in a similar vein.

He visualized a mental list of the type of woman he thought would suit him best. It should be someone organized and efficient, much like himself. Practical—the kind of woman who would understand he was never going to be a smooth-talking Romeo, but that he would be loyal, generous, committed, dependable. That was the type of husband and father his dad was, and that his brothers had become. Maybe they had married for more emotional reasons, but that didn’t mean he couldn’t make his own future partnership just as successful. Middle kid that he was, he’d always had his own way of doing things, as his mother had pointed out on many occasions. His way had turned out well for him in business, so why not in marriage?

His wife didn’t have to be model beautiful, as his ex-fiancée had been, but it would be best, of course, if he was attracted to her. He’d always been drawn to kind eyes and a warm smile, and he had an admitted weakness for dimples...

He heard Tess moving around in the other room. She had nice eyes, he thought, along with a generous smile with occasional flashes of dimples in the corners. She never wore much makeup, but he’d noted some time ago—just in passing—that her skin was creamy and flawless without it. He supposed she would be considered girl-next-door attractive rather than strikingly beautiful—but then again, there was nothing he’d have changed about her appearance. On more than one occasion, especially during the past year or so, he’d found himself admiring her attributes in a manner that had made him immediately redirect his thoughts, chiding himself that it was inappropriate to even notice those things.

A muffled thud and a disgruntled mutter drifted in from the lobby. Curious, he stood and walked around his desk to stand in the open doorway. “What are you doing?”