Free Searching for Perfect by Jennifer Probst Page A

a fair shot with a lot of good women because you haven’t taken the time to make a good first impression. I promise you it’s not that dramatic a change.”
    “You want to cut off all my hair.”
    “Consider it shedding season and let’s be done with this,” the stylist sneered.
    “Benny!”
    Benny picked at a cuticle, already done with the whole episode. Nate glared and crossed his arms against his chest. Kennedy sighed internally. Ah, crap. Dealing with a man’s appearance was always delicate, but especially one with so much work to do. Her fingers itched to uncover what she knew he was hiding: a certain geeky hotness that would intrigue women and find him love.
    The unibrow rose. “How come this is all a one-way street? Why don’t you trust me to tell you I’m fine the way I am? I refuse to be some blond-ass Twinkie.”
    She bit down on her lower lip to keep from laughing. Benny rolled his eyes. “As if,” he muttered under his breath.
    Nate jerked his head. “I heard that.”
    “Okay, listen, if you do this for me, I’ll do something for you.”
    Benny looked interested. “I had no idea, darling.”
    Kennedy rolled her eyes. “Relax, Benny—I’m not sleeping with him. But Nate, you can choose something that will stretch my boundaries. Even though you’re a client, I usually don’t ask them to do anything I wouldn’t be willing to complete myself. Name it.”
    He feigned disinterest. “You’re already beautiful.”
    A shot of female vanity and pride hit her. “Thank you. Look, you won’t get this opportunity again. Pick something and I’ll do it. The offer disappears in a minute.”
    “Let me teach you to golf.”
    She winced. Oh, this was bad. Being dragged out on an endless lawn to smack a ball and walk eight miles to do it again was so not on her bucket list. And the outfits theywore were plain scary. Those awful collared shirts and plaid pants above the ankle. She once saw a golfer on TV wearing bright orange shorts without even a hint of irony. Nightmare. Not to mention the droning on and on about handicaps and strokes. “How about we bank the favor for now? Think about it more in depth and come up with something you really want. Okay?” She used her best pout and lowered her lids. Only once had a man told her no when facing off against that particular expression. She knew her odds were good.
    His face turned stubborn. “No. Golf. And not just once. I need a few sessions in order to teach you properly.”
    She shuddered. Analyzed the options for a way out. Found none. She could threaten him, but he’d still refuse and, without changing his appearance, she’d be too behind the eight ball. Or golf ball. “Fine. You win. But no more bitching and giving Benny a headache. You follow our instructions. Deal?”
    “Deal.”
    “Benny?”
    The stylist ran his fingers through Nate’s shaggy locks, a look of disgust on his face. “Deal. This is too horrific not to help with.”
    “Thanks.”
    She scrolled through her text messages and waited while Benny prepped a moisturizing treatment and began his magic. Kennedy sipped coffee, answered emails, and tried to ignore her client’s grunts and groans of horror as the solution was rubbed into his scalp. Roughly. A razor edge was brought out from the drawer and a hot washcloth placed on his face. Suddenly, Benny gave a shout.
    “My God, I am brilliant. This man needs scruff.”
    Kennedy walked over. Nate’s voice was muffled under the cloth. “What?”
    “Do you think he can pull it off?” she asked.
    Benny tapped a finger over his chin and debated. “It’s a gamble. If I do this correctly, he can become my greatest creation.”
    “I’m a fucking Frankenstein now? Get me out of here.”
    “Shush,” Benny said.
    “What the hell? I shave every day and now this is a problem?”
    “Shush,” Kennedy said. “Let him think.”
    Benny finally nodded. “We shall do it. But it must be delicate. I will set up the pattern but he must promise