The other man blinked. “Ah. Right. Yeah, sure, she’s the one.”
It took all of Parker’s willpower not to gape at the moron sitting in front of them. “Yeah, sure, she’s the one” was about the most half-assed response he’d ever heard in his life. He didn’t normally root against his clients, but damn, he found himself hoping Phil’s main squeeze rejected the proposal. He didn’t know this Lynn, but he already felt pretty fucking sorry for her.
“So, what does she enjoy?” Parker asked. “What are her hobbies?”
Cue another blank look.
He smothered a sigh. “What about favorites? Favorite color, movie, music?”
Phil shrugged.
Oh, for fuck’s sake. The man was about to propose to the woman and he couldn’t even name her favorite color?
“You know what,” Dean spoke up, “why don’t you take a few minutes to think about it? We’ll need you to fill out some forms anyway, including a questionnaire about your woman. And there’s also a couple of waivers you’ll need to sign.”
“What kind of waivers?” Phil asked suspiciously.
“Standard 374-9. Release of liability for performance of services. Then we have the 17-4 regarding transportation.”
Phil’s eyes glazed over as Dean rambled on, spewing a list of numbers and techno jargon that sounded damn impressive. When Dean stopped and flashed his grin, Parker covered his mouth with a hand to hide his amusement behind a cough.
“I beg your pardon?” Phil blinked a few times. “Release of liability?”
Dean cleared his throat. “Means you acknowledge and understand that while we’re planning the date, it’s your job to woo your woman. If it’s a proposal, we can’t guarantee she’ll say yes, and we won’t be held liable if the answer is no.”
A nod. “Fair enough.”
“Just head to the lobby and ask Didi for the paperwork, and you can take as long as you need with it. We’ll talk fees and ideas when you’re done,” Dean added.
Looking relieved, Phil rose from the couch and nodded. “Sounds good.”
A moment later, the heavy oak door closed behind him, leaving Parker and Dean alone in the office.
“That poor woman,” Parker declared.
“Tell me about it. If she marries that idiot, she’s dooming herself to a life of douchebaggery. And did you see his nails? The dude totally has a manicurist on standby.”
Parker snorted. “Says the guy who got a mani-pedi last weekend.”
“Only because I was trying to bone the esthetician,” Dean protested. “I have a weakness for redheads.”
Parker rolled his eyes, because they both knew it was a load of bull. Dean Colter had a weakness for women, period. Redhead, blonde, brunette, short, tall, curvy, skinny. Didn’t matter. If she was cute and willing, Dean was gonna get with her, end of story.
Not that Parker was one to talk. He damn well realized he was as big a playboy as his colleague. So was Jack Hunter, their other partner and Parker’s longtime friend. He and Jack, in fact, had been best friends long before they’d met Dean, who’d been assigned to their Rangers unit.
The three of them had witnessed some seriously grisly things during their time in Special Ops—and they’d scored some seriously hot women when they were off-duty. Going into business together had been a natural step. Dean and Jack were the only people Parker trusted implicitly and the only ones, aside from his family, he’d lay down his life for without hesitation.
“You know what?” Dean’s gaze lingered on the doorway before focusing on Parker. “I think we should pass on the gig. All jokes aside, I’ve got a bad feeling about this guy.”
“Ditto. But let’s wait and see what he writes on the questionnaire. It might end up being an easy job.”
“Well, we’re charging him double regardless. He deserves to pay the asshole fee.”
“Duh. I told Didi to prepare the asshole forms the second I spotted the Armani suit.”
Dean snickered. “Who wears Armani for a job at the Bay City Press? Doesn’t he know print is dying? He’ll be out of a job in a year, two tops.”
As Parker chuckled, Dean drifted over to the mini-fridge on the other side of the office. “Beer?”
“Can’t you at least wait until the client leaves the building, bro? To give off even a modicum of professionalism?”