A risk-averse actuary gets so lucky.
Minerva Dobbs has been warned: If she wants to snag a new guy to replace dreary David, who does something with software, it’s time to loosen up. Does Liza mean she should get rid of her favorite gray-checked suit? If plump, pretty Min dared to wear body-hugging purple get-ups like her tall, trim friend, she’d look like Barney the Dinosaur’s slut cousin. And, yes, her self-esteem needs a group hug right now from all her best buddies in the bar: Min just overheard David, a client of Cal Morrisey, a genial organizer of business seminars, bet ten bucks—or was it ten thousand?—that Cal can’t get into Min’s sensible white cotton panties. Cal, who’s so good-looking he should be on coins, takes the bet and unloads chatty Cynthie, his ex-girlfriend, a know-it-all TV shrink, on David. Then Cal takes Min out to dinner; eats dinner; then walks Min home. And that’s it: Have a nice life. But, hey, wait a minute—would Cal mind taking Min to her perfect sister’s splashy wedding? He and she would only have to pretend to like each other for a few months. No biggie. And, lo and behold, this mismatched pair slowly and surely discover that they really do like each other. Watch for the good parts: a sidesplitting riff on bridesmaids’ dresses; the nonsensical wishful thinking of a relationship psychologist; a maternal analysis of underwear as bait; and every bad line from every date from hell a big girl ever had. Crusie (Faking It, 2002, etc.) gives chick-lit clichés a triple shot of adrenaline, intelligence, and smart-mouth wit.
Bet you can’t stop reading it. Absolutely, irresistibly hilarious.