Perfect for You

and once the bastard actually met her he'd probably fall in love with her.
    He gritted his teeth and shoved his way into his apartment. That wasn't acceptable. If he thought she'd be happier with another man, he would have gladly stepped aside and let her live her life.
    Grumbling, he took the stairs two at a time. He wasn't willing to admit defeat—not without getting a shot at her himself. He'd just have to make sure he had the opportunity.
    The thought of another man touching Freya tormented Greg all week. By the time Friday rolled around, he'd driven himself insane with all the scenarios running through his head.
    It didn't help that Anna called him. "I have a study group Friday night, so it's up to you to stop this date," she'd insisted.
    When he'd asked her how she proposed he do that, she told him to use his resources. Then she reminded him how empty and meaningless his life would be without Freya.
    Someone needed to spank that kid.
    But then he got an idea. Not the best plan he'd ever come up with, but desperate times required desperate measures. According to Anna, this qualified.
    He peeked out the window. Still no sign of anyone. He'd kept lookout for the past hour because he didn't know what time her date was supposed to arrive and he didn't want to miss him. Catching him before he rang Freya's doorbell was integral to the plan. He'd left work early just to be safe.
    He shook his head. He couldn't believe he was doing this. It was the last time, too. Not even telling himself that he was doing this in Freya's best interests alleviated his guilt. It was dishonest, and he didn't like it.
    Just this one time, he promised himself, because he already told Anna he'd do it.
    At seven, he saw a man approach the Victorian. Instinct told him this was the guy. The red roses he held were a tip-off too.
    Greg ran down his stairs and threw open his front door to cut off the Freya's date before he knocked on her door.
    The guy was coming up the porch steps. He had short, clean-cut brown hair and wore khaki pants with a crisp crease down each leg.
    Wrong, buddy. Freya with a man who wore khakis? Greg couldn't see it. And she was so not a red roses kind of woman. She was more like daisies in an array of bright, lively colors. Even talking with her over the phone, that should have been apparent. Greg almost felt sorry for the guy for getting it so wrong.
    "Hello," he greeted brightly, flashing one of his you-can-trust-me-smiles as he closed his door.
    The guy acknowledged him with a nod and a brief smile as he climbed the stairs.
    "Are you Freya's date?" Greg asked pleasantly as he locked his door.
    The guy frowned blandly, stopping on the landing. "Yes, as a matter of fact. Do you know her?"
    "I'm her neighbor." Greg pointed up to the downstairs apartment, because he was no dummy. "She's a great woman. Very intelligent and talented."
    Khaki man nodded. "She seems nice."
    Nice ? He had to restrain himself from snorting. Nice hardly did justice to Freya. Scintillating, vivid, and sexier than hell—yes. But nice ? But he nodded in agreement. "Yes. Too bad about her family though."
    The guy frowned. "Her family?"
    Greg shook his head regretfully. "Yeah, it's a shame that such a nice person has to deal with all that. But it's none of my business." He started for the porch steps. "Well, have a great evening. I hope you have fun with Freya."
    "Wait a minute." This time it was the guy who stopped him . "What's wrong with her family?"
    "You mean aside from her sister?" He shrugged. "Not much. She hasn't been around to bum money off of Freya since she got herself a new sugar daddy."
    The guy's mouth dropped open.
    "She could give Heidi Fleiss a run for her money from what I understand. The rest of the family isn't so bad. I mean, aside from the various drug addictions. Usually the apple doesn't fall far from the tree, but Freya is the exception that proves the rule. For the most part." He clamped a friendly hand on the guy's shoulder. "Hey, I've got to go. Have a good time."
    He left the guy sputtering on the stoop and headed to Jezebel, parked across the street, to make sure nothing went awry.
    Sure enough, the guy stood there staring at Freya's door for all of ten seconds before turning tail and scurrying away. Satisfaction warred with guilt, and he told himself again he did Freya a favor by getting rid of khaki guy.
    He pulled out his cell phone and called Jade.
    "Talk. You have precisely ten minutes," she said as soon as she