The Perfect Guy: A Romance Novel Page 3

  Still, there was something nagging in the back of my head. “Why do you call it The Perfect Partner Program?”

  She chuckled softly. “It was my husband, Carlisle, who came up with the name. He said that it would bear two implications. It would make independent people cower away as the name would mean something bad to them, but it would lure the ones in need of help in. As I said, the applicants are usually people who’ve lost their way. Through this program, they learn to accept themselves as they are: perfectly imperfect human beings.”

  I blinked in shock. That was what this program was really about? It did not sound all too bad. Maybe I wouldn’t be completely miserable around here.

  Mrs. Kellen stopped in front of a set of wooden, double-doors. “Shall we?” she asked.

  I smiled and nodded.

  CHAPTER 4

  THE PERFECT PARTNER PROGRAM

  The auditorium turned out to be a rebuilt classroom that seated fifty or so students. Not even half of the seats were occupied.

  Up at the front, I saw a group of people, all in their thirties or forties. I guessed that they were the professors.

  When the doors opened and I stepped inside with Mrs. Kellen, all heads turned to me. I didn’t look down in embarrassment. It wasn’t my fault that I’d arrived a little later than the rest.

  Among the students, I counted up to six, seven including me, girls and eight guys, all in their twenties.

  At least I would fit in the group.

  A blonde man in his fifties came up to me and Mrs. Kellen. He offered me his hand and I accepted it. “You must be Jennifer Braun. I am Carlisle Kellen, founder of The PPP,” the man said with an English accent.

  “Nice to meet you,” I said while shaking his hand.

  “The pleasure’s all mine.” He gestured with his hand toward the seats. “Take a seat and we will begin shortly.” He took Mrs. Kellen’s hand and they walked up front together.

  I looked around for a good seat. I didn’t want to make anyone uncomfortable by sitting down next to them, but at the same time I didn’t want to come off as an outsider by sitting separated from the others.

  Only two of the girls sat next to each other and acted like they knew the other. They were both of Native-American origin, so maybe they did know each other.

  I took an empty seat in the middle of the group. It would make me a part of the class, but it also showed that I didn’t really know anyone here.

  While we waited for everything to begin, I took in my surroundings and studied my “classmates” for lack of a better word. I had always been a person that enjoyed studying the humans around me. It entertained me in a way.

  There were the two Native-American girls, as well as two guys that were of the same origin.

  A girl with straight black hair that reached her shoulders looked to be a foreigner, but I couldn’t determine from where. Then there was a strawberry blonde girl, a brown-haired girl with curls that made her look taller than she was, and a pale-blonde girl.

  I couldn’t see all of the guys since a few of them sat behind me, but I did see a dark-haired guy with a mild case of acne, another with Asian origin, and a guy with chocolate-colored skin. These three, as well as the Native-American guys, were the ones I could see from my spot. There were three more guys behind me, but it wouldn’t exactly be subtle of me to turn around in my seat and stare at them.

  The professors were all chatting amongst themselves and it gave me the opportunity to study them as well without getting caught.

  Two of the women were blonde, but while one was golden-blonde with smooth waves, the other was a pale-blonde with hair straight as corn silk.

  The third woman had short black hair that was styled in a very chic look. She looked younger than the others, but that could have been because of her height. She was a tiny woman.

  The three men were all as different as night and day; two blondes and one dark-haired. The dark-haired man was a huge burly guy that would tower over me if we stood next to each other. One of the blondes had long hair tied back in a ponytail. He was tall and of a lanky build. The other had curly hair and a crooked smile that I was sure could make a girl faint if he shot it in her direction.

  I noticed that the pale-blonde woman and the long-haired man were standing very close to each other and my eyes zeroed in on the identical wedding bands on their fingers. They were, however, the only ones of the professors that appeared to be married. I couldn’t see rings on any of the others fingers.

  Mrs. Kellen turned to the class with a smile, indicating that it was time to start, and all the professors sat down in chairs behind her.

  “Welcome, all of you, to The Perfect Partner Program. Before we assign your rooms and volunteers, we want to give you some background story of the academy, and so I present to you the founder of the program, as well as my husband, Carlisle Kellen.”

  Everyone clapped politely as Mr. Kellen rose from his chair.

  I heard how the two Native girls giggled while they cast appreciative glances at him, but I think I was the only one that heard.

  It was true that Mr. Kellen was a very handsome man. His age suited him well, and he looked like one of those men that only became better-looking the older he got.

  He was well-built, tall and proud; his blonde hair had streaks of grey in it, but his blue eyes had a youthful glimmer in them.

  “Thank you, love.” And of course he also had that English accent. “As my wife said, I am the founder of The PPP. I used to work as a psychiatrist, mostly with couples counseling, and I realized during that time that the reason my clients came to me was because they couldn’t understand each other. Not because of lack of communication, but because we think differently as men and women.

  “For centuries, we’ve tried to understand the opposite sex, but mostly, it still remains a mystery. So, I decided that, together with my wife, I would start a program designed to help men and women understand each other on a level never reached before.

  “For years, we studied the human mind, both the primal one as well as the more modern kind, and it was through that research that we were able to create what we now teach our students.

  “Unfortunately, our idea wasn’t well-received at first. It seemed like people were afraid of the knowledge they would come across in our program, and they chose to stay ignorant and continue making the same mistakes they always made in relationships, so we had a very hard time finding employees.

  “Eventually, we were able to find our professors. They’ve been with us almost since the beginning, and now they know just as much, if not more, as my wife and I about the subject.

  “That’s why I would like to present to you first: Ms. Rosalie Hale,”—the golden blonde woman stood up and smiled—“Ms. Alice Brandon,”—Ms. Hale sat down and the black-haired woman stood up. Her smile was wide and radiant—“Mr. Emmett McCarty,”—the burly guy didn’t stand up, but he gave a wave and a wink. The curly-haired girl to my right giggled, but tried to cover it up by clearing her throat—“Mr. Jasper Whitlock,”—the blonde man with the crooked smile tilted his head forward in greeting—“Mrs. Katrina Martin, and lastly, Mr. Garrett Martin.” The married couple stood up together with their hands entwined.

  Mr. Kellen continued his speech, but I was unable to continue listening. While Mrs. Kellen had soothed my worries, Mr. Kellen made my doubts come back. I hadn’t liked it when he said “a program designed to help men and women understand each other on a level never reached before.”

  If men and women had such a hard time understanding each other, how could you possibly teach in the subject? The person would have to be both man and woman to be able to understand both parts.

  So how had they succeeded here? Their so-called research made me nervous. What did they do? Did they experiment on students to broaden their knowledge of the human mind?

  I pulled myself from my thoughts when Mrs. Kellen held up a bunch of golden keys.

  “Since some of you came here yesterday, you’ve
already received your room numbers and keys, but those of you that arrived today, just come forward when I call your name.”

  “Talia Samra,”—the foreign-looking girl stood up and walked forward—“You will share room with Emily Young.” Mrs. Kellen gestured for Emily to make herself known. It was one of the Native girls.

  “Charlotte Moore, you will share room with Tanya Denali.” The pale-blonde girl fetched her key and gave a small wave to the strawberry blonde girl, who waved back.

  “Jennifer Braun…” I looked up. “You will share a three-bedroom suite with Jessica Stanley and Leah Clearwater.” That left the other Native girl, and the curly-haired girl. I went up to Mrs. Kellen and got my key. It had the number 308 on it.

  When I sat back down, the curly-haired girl leaned to me and offered me her hand. “Hi, I’m Jessica.”

  “I’m Jenn, but you already knew that.” Jessica smiled and leaned back to her own seat. She seemed like a nice girl.

  Mrs. Kellen continued with the guys and I learned that the Asian guy’s name was Ben Cheney, the black-haired guy was Eric Yorkie, and the dark-skinned guy’s name was Tyler Crowley.

  The two Native guys’ names were Quil Ateara and Jared Cameron.

  The three guys that I hadn’t been able to see before were all ones that had arrived today.

  “Riley Biers, you will share room with Quil Ateara.” A tall, muscular man with blonde hair came from behind me. When he’d taken his key and turned back around, I saw that he had brown, kind eyes.

  “And that leaves Peter Matthews and James Hunter to share room.” A pale-blonde man, and another with light-brown hair, walked up to Mrs. Kellen and accepted the keys she held out.

  “I believe that was everyone.” She turned to Mr. Kellen. “Shall I notify the volunteers?” Mr. Kellen nodded and Mrs. Kellen left the room.

  Mr. Kellen began explaining the background of the volunteers. “When we first started the program, we tried a theoretical approach. We only used that system for one year, since it was afterward proven to be a very ineffective method. We were introduced to a company that was in contact with young people involved with volunteer work. Most of them didn’t want to participate in the program as they didn’t see it as real volunteer work, but the longer we stayed open, the more interested people became. Now we have a waiting list for those that want to participate. It looks very good on their résumés to have done volunteer work here.”

  A waiting list? Seriously?

  “The new practical method we used turned out to be much better, since the students got to act out the subjects we taught. It made them understand much easier.”

  It did not matter that what he said was logical. I still thought it was creepy. How could I possibly pretend that some stranger was my boyfriend and feel comfortable with it? How far did this “acting out the subject” go? Was physical contact involved, like hugs and kisses? Did they have any sorts of restrictions of how far you were allowed to go with your volunteer? Had it ever happened that a student slept with their volunteer?

  Somehow, it didn’t seem impossible to me.

  To act as if someone was your boyfriend for an entire year must surely leave its mark.

  The door, that Mrs. Kellen disappeared through before, opened and Mrs. Kellen was back with a mixed group of people in their twenties. They were all bunched together, so there wasn’t any particular one that stood out to me. I would have to study them closer later.

  I did, however, notice that the young boy from before, Seth, wasn’t one of them. I guess he just worked here as some kind of valet of sorts then.

  I saw how Mrs. Kellen placed two glass bowls with paper strips on the table that was close to the front. She also held a clipboard in her hand.

  “In assigning our volunteers, we go through them alphabetically, having them draw a student’s name from one of these bowls. Since this is the first day, we like to make it into a game. We’ve noticed how that relaxes everybody a bit more.”

  I was shocked. Was she saying that the choice of who would act as my boyfriend for a year would be determined on a random draw?

  It had all sounded so scientifically worked out when Mr. Kellen spoke of the program.

  “When you hear your name, just raise your hand so that your volunteer knows who you are.”

  “We’ll begin with Rachel Barker.” Yet another girl of Native-American origin stepped forward from the group of volunteers and reached into one of the bowls. “Riley Biers,” she read and looked up to scan the students.

  I saw her lock eyes with Riley behind me. She smiled and nodded to show that she knew who he was.

  “Next is Ricky Black.” A man with long black hair and russet colored skin stepped forward. He was also of Native-American origin, and I made a quick look around the room to see that ten out of the thirty young people looked to be a part of some tribe. Apart from the four of the students, another six were among the volunteers.

  “Leah Clearwater,” he said with a deep and smooth voice.

  Emily nudged Leah in the side, and Leah blushed. Ricky shot a blinding white smile in the girls’ direction, but I also noticed how he glanced at a girl amongst the volunteers. She was a pale girl with brown eyes similar to my own, and long Auburn hair that reached below her shoulder blades. She was a very beautiful girl.

  The draw continued in that fashion. A Diego Chavez was paired with Tanya, another Native-American girl named Kim Grace was paired with Tyler. Claire Grey, also Native-American, got James, and Victoria Johnson, a girl with flaming red hair, was paired with Ben.

  Paul Lahote—a guy that seemed to know he was good-looking and was obviously arrogant about it—was paired with Emily, and he winked at her, pleased with being paired up with a beautiful Native girl.

  “Lauren Mallory.” The girl was blonde, her hair looked almost white, but I doubted it was her natural color. It looked rather bleached.

  “Peter Matthews,” Lauren read and tossed her hair over her shoulder to search the room for Peter. When she saw who he was, she gave him a small smile, but she didn’t look all too pleased. I wondered why. What could she possibly have against Peter already? It wasn’t like she knew him.

  “James Masen…” The group separated a bit to reveal a guy that had been standing in the back. He was tall, and lean-muscled. My breath escaped me when he scanned the room and I saw that he had the most beautiful green eyes I’d ever seen. I was a sucker for green eyes.

  His hair was covered with a black beanie, but I detected a reddish-brown hairline. I’d never seen such a hair-color before.

  All over, the man was gorgeous; he was the complete opposite of George, who was blonde and blue-eyed. Maybe that was why I was so attracted to him. He wouldn’t remind me of the douche.

  I found myself wishing to be paired up with him, but then thought better of it. If I were to be paired up with him, I would never be able to concentrate on the classes.

  James walked up to Mrs. Kellen and reached into the bowl that contained the girls’ names. “Jennifer Braun,” he said with a voice that made my insides clench, before I registered what name he’d said.

  My eyes snapped from James, to Mrs. Kellen, and back to James. He was now looking straight at me, and my breath got caught in my throat.

  I raised a trembling hand and gave a small wave. James smiled and waved back. My heart began beating faster and I had to take a deep breath to calm down.

  I had a feeling this would not end well.

  CHAPTER 5

  THE INTERVIEW

  I didn’t even pay attention to how the rest of the draw went. I was completely absorbed in my thoughts. I couldn’t decide if I was lucky as fuck to be paired up with the most beautiful man I’d ever seen, or if it was a bad thing.

  How would I be able to stay emotionally detached when I already felt so affected by him? It would be close to impossible.

  But then again, why would I want to stay emotionally detached?

  Because if things got fucked up, I would still have
to work together with him for the remainder of this program, and that would be much too awkward.

  I shook my head to clear it. That I was even thinking about it was absurd. My attraction to James was simply on a physical level. For all I knew, he could be a complete douchebag, and heaven already knew that I didn’t lose one bastard to replace him with another.

  I directed my gaze back toward the man that occupied my thoughts and tried to find anything with his looks that would indicate that he shared a similar personality with George.

  I tried to find the expensive clothing brands, the arrogant glint in his eyes, and the displeased curling of his upper lip, but I came up empty-handed. This beautiful man in front of me was wearing worn clothes like any normal person. His eyes were light and playful, and his mouth was curled up in a small crooked smile. These features were not what I was used to, and I immediately felt suspicious.

  I had never encountered anyone, apart from Dad, Nana, Pops, and Becca, that didn’t hide the truth behind false façades, and it had caused me to be very suspicious of people I didn’t know.

  “All right!” I turned forward to see who had spoken. I didn’t recognize the voice. It turned out to be the female pale-blonde professor, Katrina Martin. “Now that everyone’s been paired up, we’re going to do a small exercise,” she said, turning to us students.

  “I want you to go out on the grounds with your volunteer and interview each other. It’s important for this program that you get to know each other, because otherwise it will be hard to go through the classes and exercises that you’ll experience together. You’ll have half an hour, but there are three questions that you have to ask.” Mrs. Martin counted the questions off on her fingers. “‘Where are you from?’ ‘What’s your middle name?’ and ‘What’s your favorite thing to do in your free time?’ Now, when you come back here, I’m going to ask you to make a brief summary of the other to see how well you’ve been paying attention.”