His Kind of Perfection

“Sticking to a strict diet over the holiday season is almost impossible. I mean, it’s admirable you have such lofty goals, but I want you to be realistic above all else. Otherwise, you set yourself up for failure.”

“I won’t fail,” he assured her. “This is too important.”

She motioned to a chair in front of her desk and then scooted another one out from the wall so they could face each other comfortably with nothing between them. “Do you mind sharing with me what’s so important?”

Her tone was one a counselor would use, and, now that he thought about it, she was a counselor of sort. He decided to be completely up-front with her. “I’m trying to get my girlfriend back.”

Bree straightened in her chair. “By losing weight?”

Kale shrugged. “By trying to be a better me. I’ve gotten slack about a lot of things.” Honesty was one thing, but no way was he going to mention his depressed libido—especially with the woman who’d single-handedly jump-started it a couple of days ago. Married woman, he reminded himself. “I took her for granted. Let myself go. I figure a Christmas reunion would be the perfect gift to myself.”

Bree chewed her lip, obviously trying to decide what to say. “What you’re doing...what you’ve already done...is admirable. And I’m glad you’ve found something to motivate you. But...” Her eyes locked with his, and she leaned forward, resting her elbows on her knees. “It’s not a good idea to try to reinvent yourself for somebody else.”

Her words hit a nerve that had been exposed since childhood, and he felt his spine stiffen.

“Let’s switch it around in your head, okay?” she continued. “Let’s pretend you’re going to become the best you can be for you. And if she happens to find that irresistible, then she’s a lucky woman.”

Kale couldn’t hold back the chuckle. Here he was expecting some serious analysis of his psyche, and instead he was given an option to just pretend. Suddenly, the pressure had kicked down a notch. “I like that,” he admitted.

“Good. So, hand over the list of things in your fridge, mister.”

He slipped the paper into her outstretched hand.

She unfolded it and read the items out loud. “Three twelve packs of Miller 64. Half a bag of dill pickle chips. A small jar of mayonnaise with an expiration date of May 18, 2011. One half-empty carton of French onion dip. One can of Pillsbury Grand biscuits.” She turned the paper to check the back, and then looked up at him. “Is this it?”

He nodded and waited for the lecture.

“It’s Friday night,” she said. “Do you have plans?”

“None.”

She brightened. “Let’s go grocery shopping. We don’t have to buy anything, but I want to teach you how to shop.”

“But the other people coming in,” he protested. “Don’t you need to be here?”

“You’re my last client of the day. A couple of the part-time people will stay until nine.” She stood as if it were settled and grabbed the running suit hanging on a hook on her wall.

He tried again. “I don’t want you working overtime for me. Your husband will have my hide.”

She slipped into the pants. “Got you there. I’m not married.”

Her words exploded in Kale’s brain. “I thought you and Gil...”

“Gil’s my brother,” she explained as she tied the drawstring at the waistband. “My evil twin, actually,” she added with a grin.

The resemblance suddenly became obvious. He’d thought they were simply of-a-kind. In reality, they were the male and female sides of the same thing.

“C’mon.” Bree tilted her head toward the door. “If you’re going to lose those twenty pounds in nine weeks, you’ve got to do more than work out. You won’t succeed if your diet staple is—” she glanced down at his list again “—pickles smothered in French onion dip with Miller 64 to wash them down.”

Kale hesitated for only a minute. He had nothing better to do than spend Friday night at the supermarket with a beautiful, single woman.

He was, after all, doing this for Addy.

* * *

BREE WAS PLEASED to see Kale grab a shopping cart and wheel it into the grocery store. She’d thought they might simply take a tour with her pointing out the areas to hit and those to avoid, but the man seemed ready to do some serious shopping.

She was finally able to let her guard down and relax, and that alone had already made a world of difference with her new client. He’d gone from reserved to downright chatty once they’d gotten in his truck, telling her all about the marina and his new life on Kentucky Lake.

Bree felt liberated knowing that a woman was Kale’s motivation to go all out and change himself, even as misguided as that motivation was. It meant those Paul Newman eyes were off the market and allowed her to view him as she would any other client.

Well, maybe not any other client. There was something very special about Kale Barlow, and Bree was determined to help him show his girlfriend how special he was. Whatever he thought he needed to do to fix the broken relationship, Bree would help.

“What do you snack on?” she asked, tugging the cart toward the fresh produce section.

“I don’t snack a lot, but when I do, I usually grab an ice cream bar or a bag of chips.” There was nothing sheepish in his look, so he evidently thought that was acceptable.

“I want you to try something for a week, and we’ll see how it works,” Bree suggested. “Do you like apples?”

“Yep.” He nodded.

She picked out some Fujis and placed them in the cart. “Oranges?”

Another nod prompted her to add a bag of small mandarins.

“Grapes? Bananas? Nuts?”

He nodded at each one. “I like everything.”

Bree picked out some of each. “Then this should be a piece of cake. Well, not literally,” she added. “The key is to not let yourself get so hungry that you reach for the easy, processed stuff. When you get home, I want you to wash and dry all of this, and leave it out so you can get to it. Every couple of hours, I want you to eat a piece of fruit or a handful of nuts. Above all else, don’t get hungry. You’re still going to be getting calories, but we’ll cut down on the fat. And when it comes to mealtime, you won’t be so inclined to scarf down one of Mama G’s Specials.”

Kale’s eyes twinkled as he winced. “Guilty. A couple of times a week.”

“Everybody loves Mama G’s.” Bree couldn’t deny the wistful timbre in her voice. Of the things she’d given up for her healthy lifestyle, corn bread and Mama G’s Special were the two she missed most. She could still almost taste the mound of crusty mozzarella covering the pepperoni, hamburger, green pepper and Canadian bacon, even after a ten-year absence.

“Now you’ve got me craving one.” Kale’s confession drew her out of her reverie and reset her focus.

“You have a grill?” she asked.

“Gas,” he answered. “Not charcoal.”

“Even better. I’m going to tell you how to grill up a veggie pizza using flour tortillas as the crust that will have you throwing rocks at Mama G’s.”

Together, they picked out an assortment of vegetables that would be delicious grilled, baked or eaten raw. Kale really did like everything, and Bree wondered if that was part of his weight problem. Food was comfort and relaxation and all things good to him. Those feelings were usually tethered all the way back to childhood and family, so replacing them took a great deal of desire with a healthy side of courage. She knew that firsthand.

Around they went, Bree studiously keeping the cart to the outside aisles, even when Kale whined like a baby near the cereal and the pot pies. He picked out some steaks and ground beef that caused her to wrinkle her nose, but he let her know in no uncertain terms that red meat wasn’t negotiable. He stood his ground, and Bree was savvy enough to pick her battles.

At the very end, with the cart laden with mostly good-for-you foods, Bree finally pointed to the freezers containing ice cream. “I want you to pick out two pints of the most decadent stuff here, and, at the end of every long, hard day, I want you to indulge in a half cup. That’s a fourth of a container. Don’t eat it out of the carton, though. You have to promise to dish it out and take small bites, letting that creamy smoothness surround your tongue and your taste buds. I want you to savor every second of it.”