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chances to meet the right person.”
    “I tried.” His eyes lit up. “Would you like to go to dinner Friday night?”
    “No.”
    “You didn’t ask me here for a date, did you? You wanted to kick my ass.”
    She smothered a laugh. It was a shame. Good intentions in a male were gold, especially one who truly wanted to find love and didn’t want to hide behind casual sex and a few good times.
    Unless . . .
    The idea took root, flowered, and exploded into full-bloom roses. Unless she took him under her wing. Taught him how to interact with women. Gave him a makeover. Coached him to close a first meeting to a real date instead of waffling in the shark-infested waters with no help. A surge of excitement tingled in her blood, something she hadn’t experienced in a long time. Possibility.
    She ached to transform him.
    She was damn good at her job, and had numerous solid matches to back up her confidence. Lately, she’d wondered if she was going through a slump. Nothing excited her anymore. Her own dates were commonplace and led down an endless path of disappointment. The lovers she took to bed were satisfying for an hour or two, but in the harsh morning light, she felt no need to keep them around. Her career was satisfying, but she hadn’t done anything spectacular orout of the box lately. She was stuck, while everyone around her seemed to be moving forward at a rapid pace. Most of her close friends were engaged or involved in permanent relationships. Usually she adored the dating scene with the lure of the unknown and expanse of possibility spread before her. But she had struggled with burnout lately, and began spending most of her hours at Kinnections or hanging with girlfriends.
    But this man presented a true challenge.
    Kennedy switched gears and downshifted into business mode. First, she needed more information before making the commitment. He remained ultra still in the chair, no fidgeting or impatient movements. Definitely a desk jockey. “What’s your full name?”
    “Nathan Ellison Raymond Dunkle.”
    Fascinating. This just kept getting better and better. “You got stuck with a real doozy, Ned.”
    His face remained deadly serious. “I know. If my mother was still around we’d sit down and have a conversation regarding her original intentions.”
    “You know if you put the R in, you come up with NERD.”
    The unibrow lifted again. “If you think you’re being clever, I’ll have you know that even the junior high jocks figured that out pretty quickly. You’ll have to work much harder to impress me.”
    Kennedy fought a smile. Good. He had a sense of humor buried under all that intelligence. You couldn’t teach a person that part, you either owned the trait or not. Definitely raw material to extricate and polish. “Touché. And what do you do?”
    “I’m an aerospace engineer.”
    She pressed her finger against her lips and pondered the amazing scene unfolding before her. Did this get any better? “You’re a rocket scientist.”
    Impatience simmered from his frame, though he remained still. “Yes, that’s what an aerospace engineer is. But we don’t call ourselves rocket scientists any longer. It’s outdated.”
    Her gaze fell to the pocket protector and his outfit. “I apologize.”
    His demeanor shifted, and he gazed at her with sudden suspicion. “What is it you really want? I apologized for how I came across to Bernadette. You don’t want to date me. Why am I still here?”
    Kennedy tried very hard not to lick her lips and ask for a cup of cream. A nerdy, rich rocket scientist who wanted to get married and meet his match. This was her swan song—her Eliza Doolittle—her crowning achievement and challenge of a lifetime.
    “I have a deal to offer.”
    “What type of deal?”
    She smiled. “The deal of a lifetime. I’m going to get you everything you’ve ever wanted. I’m going to find you the woman of your dreams. All you need to do is listen.”
    He blinked. Pondered. And leaned