Last minute. Who doesn't already have plans on the busiest date night of the year.But, so far the best part of the search for a great date has been the cute café I found and the geeky-hot owner who keeps rescuing me from these crazy eLove.com dates. This should be easy-peasy. The internet is the home of all your hopes and needs, right?Spoiler Alert: it isn't.Between the bromance date and the crazed single dad who needs to hire a nanny and housekeeper, not get a date, I'm running out of options. If only a certain cutey didn't have a phone call with "sweetheart" every day.The weirder things get, the more I think just going solo is very I Am Woman, blah blah blah. Forget about the fact that my heart keeps bringing me back to a certain café even when I don't need to be there...I mean, my heart doesn't always get what it wants, does it?

    Lots of rules. After all, a man doesn’t build an empire without a little discipline. And on page one of the rulebook? Don’t sleep with your employees. Especially when there’s a multimillion dollar real estate deal at stake... Luckily for Jack, Cassie James isn’t really his employee. She’s a hot bartender who just happens to be the math genius he needs, and if they share a wicked chemistry? Well, that's just a sexy little perk. So they strike a deal: Cassie helps Jack with the merger. And until the deal goes through at Christmas, they can indulge every sexy little impulse they desire. But the more rules Jack makes, the more he seems to break...

    She’s driven, energetic, and a positive thinker. She has a great career working for famed self-help guru Ian Fortune, she lives in a cute studio apartment in Manhattan, and her family is supportive and loving (albeit a little kooky). Her life is perfect. Absolutely wonderful. Except for one tiny little thing.After a decade of disastrous relationships and an infertility diagnosis, Gemma doesn’t want a Mr. Right (or even a Mr. Right Now), she just wants a baby.And all she needs is an egg, some sperm, and IVF.So Gemma makes a New Year’s resolution: have a baby.Josh Lewenthal is a laid back, relaxed, find-the-humor-in-life kind of guy. The polar opposite of Gemma. He’s also her brother’s best friend. For the past twenty years Josh has attended every Jacobs’ family birthday, holiday, and event – he’s always around. Gemma knows him. He’s nice (enough), he’s funny (-ish), he’s healthy (she thinks) and he didn’t burn any ants with a magnifying glass as a kid. Which, in Gemma’s mind, makes him the perfect option for a sperm donor.So Gemma wants to make a deal. An unemotional, businesslike arrangement. No commitments, just a baby.To Gemma’s surprise, Josh agrees.They have nothing in common, except their agreement to make a baby and their desire to keep things businesslike.But the thing about baby-making…it’s hard to keep it businesslike, it’s nearly impossible to keep it unemotional, and it’s definitely impossible to keep your heart out of the mix. Because when you’re making a baby together, things have a way of starting to feel like you’re making other things too – like a life, and a family, and love. And when the baby-making ends, you wish that everything else didn’t have to end too.

    But not when it's the bright, glaring stripe staring back at me on the pregnancy test. Then, pink is the colour of major oops, of morning sickness, of boyfriends who seemed decent but now are part of some Jerk Witness Protection Program. Still, I've got a few things going for me-bitter humour, a divine right to eat till I'm the size of Marlon Brando, and good friends who've managed to get me a job interview with one Damien Sharpton: in need of a personal assistant, and some say, a good, swift kick in the arse. If you want to make a lasting impression, by all means, toss your cookies in your future boss's wastebasket, which is located directly between his excruciatingly sexy legs. Apparently, Mr. Gorgeous-But-Unbearably-Anti-Social must like personal assistants who violate his trash can, because I got the job. And if I can avoid him via text messaging for the next seven months of health insurance, everything will be just fine. Except that he's just asked-no, insisted-that I go with him on a business trip to the Caribbean. Gulp. Ordinarily, this would be cause for celebration. Ordinarily, I'd shave my legs, pack my bikini, revel in day-glo drinks and my seething lust for Mr. Swarthy-And-Secretive. But there's nothing ordinary about this situation...which means it could be absolutely extraordinary...

    It has one stoplight, one bar, and the one-and-only Trixie Mancinkus.Eleven years ago, Trixie graduated Harvard Law, turned down a job offer from one of the most prestigious law firms in Boston, and headed home to Whynot to open her own firm. Not only did she leave behind the big city, but she also left her boyfriend of three years. And just so we’re clear… that would be me.So what am I doing in Whynot at this very moment? It seems Trixie needs help with a legal case and for some insane reason, she called on me for assistance. I’ve been in town for five minutes, and I’m every bit as out of place as I feel. Trixie is all sweet, southern curves to my tailored suits and high-priced haircuts. It’s a culture clash of north versus south and about the only thing we have in common is our physical attraction to each other.But I have a new motto since coming to Whynot: When life hands you lemons, all you need is a little sex and sweet tea to make things better.