The Big O - Nelle L'Amour Page 0,2

job about a month ago, so I can’t afford to go there anymore. I can’t even pay my rent.” She paused, her eyes watering. “I may get evicted from my apartment any day now.”

“Honey, that’s too bad,” chimed in one of the women.

“Hope you find a new job,” said another.

The rest concurred, a testament to the sisterhood of women.

“Thanks,” muttered Olive, quirking a small smile. Hot damn, she was cute. And I felt bad about her job loss.

The moderator brought the discussion back on topic. “So ladies, what do you think of the actor who plays the Donut King?”

I hated to think about myself as an actor. I was a salesman. A pitch person. So good I could sell ice to an Eskimo. So I thought. The fact that sales were down—way down—made me question my abilities.

The woman who was sitting closest to the moderator chimed in again. “My five-year-old is frightened by him.”

“Same here,” commented another. “He looks like a fairy-tale villain who gobbles up children.”

Yet another: “He’s more like a bad-looking cartoon character with that stupid beard.”

The rest of the group laughed except my Olive whose mouth fell open in a big O. And then her face hardened, her eyes narrowing with fury.

“How could you say those things? I totally disagree. He’s beautiful. I mean, just look at those dreamy blue eyes. Those spectacular big hands. His dazzling smile and that deep, sexy voice. I love everything about him. I’d be his princess any day.”

I was melting like milk chocolate. She was attracted to me. Insanely attracted to me. I couldn’t believe my ears. She saw in me what none of these judgmental women did. If only she could see me now in my custom-made Italian suit, perfectly groomed, and all buff. My heart was beating so hard in my chest I thought it would leap out and crash right through the one-way mirror. I wanted Olive to be my princess. I wanted to rule her body, her heart, and her soul. No woman had ever had such an affect on me. Not one. Not ever.

A heated argument broke out among the women, but my Olive, God bless her, held her own.

“I can’t believe you don’t see what I see in him,” she said convincingly, fending off the naysayers.

Truthfully, I wanted no woman to see what she saw. I could afford no obstacles. I wanted her to be mine. And mine alone. I was thankful when the group moderator intervened.

“Okay, ladies, let’s calm down. We’re going to move on to the fun part of our session. The taste test.”

While Olive’s eyes lit up, the reaction of the other respondents was lackluster. I watched as the moderator rose from her chair and retrieved a large box of donuts from the credenza behind her. She set it in the middle of the table.

“Okay, ladies, dig in.”

Not one woman moved.

“What’s going on?” I asked Clint.

“I don’t know.” Edginess peppered her voice.

“I thought these women were supposed to be donut lovers,” I grumbled.

“I thought so too.”

“Where the hell did you find them?”

“The recruiter ran an ad on Craigslist. I guess they lied.”

“Jesus.” Anything to make a buck. Each of these respondents was being paid one hundred dollars to be here and share their opinions. What good were they if they didn’t eat donuts? Adding in the cost of the recruiter and the report, my calculation for this qualitative research, as Clint referred to it, came close to ten thousand dollars out of my pocket. My blood curdled. I was so simmering mad I could see smoke coming out of my nostrils.

“Goddamn it, Mallory. This is a total waste of time and money.”

“No, this is very valuable. Obviously, the donut business is dead. My father should have never invested in your company.”

I was now breathing fire like an angry dragon. “It’s not dead. Everyone loves donuts. We’re just doing something wrong.”

And then as I was about to send her in to end the group, a sweet voice filtered into the observation room. My Olive!

“Would someone please pass me the box of donuts?”

“Be my guest,” said the woman closest to them, handing it down the line of respondents as if it was filled with dog shit. My gaze stayed focused on Olive as the box landed in front of her. She lifted the lid and peeked in. Her eyes sparkled and her lush mouth watered.

“Wow! These look so good! I haven’t had one in ages.” She studied the donuts. “Eenie, meenie, miney, moe…”

I held