Hot Mess

Home > Romance > Hot Mess > Page 1
Hot Mess Page 1

by Anne Conley




  Hot Mess

  By Anne Conley

  Published by Anne Conley

  Copyright 2013 by Anne Conley

  Smashwords Edition

  This book is protected under the copyright laws of the United States of America. Ay reproduction of other unauthorized use of the material or artwork herein is prohibited. This book is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, brands, media, and incidents are either the product of the author's imagination or are used fictitiously. All rights reserved.

  Thank you for downloading this ebook. This ebook is licensed for your personal enjoyment only. This ebook may not be re-sold or given away to other people. If you would like to share this book with another person, please purchase an additional copy for each recipient. If you're reading this book and did not purchase it, or it was not purchased for your use only, then please return to Smashwords.com and purchase your own copy. Thank you for respecting the hard work of this author.

  Cover design by Vanessa Booke.

  Edited by Catherine DePasquale.

  Excerpts are from The Firefighter's Handbook: Essentials of Firefighting and Emergency Response; Andrea A Walter, et all; Published by Delmar; Staford, CT; 1999.

  I would to personally thank Krista Martel and Dawn Averitt for their invaluable feedback, as well as Silvia Petretti and Jessica with Living Positive. All of their words of encouragement as well as gentle corrections managed to help me make this book more than just a fun story.

  I also want to make sure my critique group buddies know how much I appreciate them, Vanessa, Suellen, N.J., and Brandy. Their words of encouragement, and periodic "Hey girl, what's up?" are priceless to me. And Jill. I treasure your friendship. Thank you all.

  This book is dedicated to my husband, whose unrelenting support has made this all possible. I appreciate you. I hope I tell you that enough.

  Table of Contents

  Chapter 1

  Chapter 2

  Chapter 3

  Chapter 4

  Chapter 5

  Chapter 6

  Chapter 7

  Chapter 8

  Chapter 9

  Chapter 10

  Chapter 11

  Chapter 12

  Chapter 13

  Chapter 14

  Chapter 15

  Chapter 16

  Chapter 17

  Chapter 18

  Chapter 19

  Chapter 20

  Chapter 21

  Chapter 22

  Chapter 23

  Chapter 24

  Chapter 25

  Chapter 26

  Chapter 27

  Epilogue

  Author's Afterward

  Excerpt

  Chapter 1

  The motto of the Roman fire brigade was "Semper Vigilans" or "Always Vigilant." It was good enough for then. It is good enough for today.--From Firefighter's Handbook, Essentials of Firefighting and Emergency Response

  Sam sat in the office chair, feeling like a wayward student instead of a grown man waiting to meet with the principal. He resisted the urge to shuffle his feet, instead crossing one ankle over his leg and striking a pose that looked relaxed. He hoped. The truth of the matter was, he didn't want to be here. He was here for his daughter. He wanted this new school to work for her, lord knew she needed something to work for her.

  A sharp-looking woman in a gray business suit walked into the office holding out her hand.

  "Mr. Owens? I'm Mrs. White. Come on back to my office. Mrs. Radcliff should be in shortly." Sam followed the long-legged woman, who strode efficiently toward an office in the back of the suite of rooms.

  "I understand you have certain issues you want to address concerning your daughter, and as soon as Mrs. Radcliff makes it in here, we'll discuss them."

  "Thank you. I appreciate you meeting with me."

  "It's no problem. We love for our students' parents to be actively involved with their education." The woman offered a tight-lipped smile that contradicted her words.

  About that time, a petite silver-headed woman scurried into the office, gently closing the door behind her. "I'm sorry, I got caught in the hallway by Mr. Duvall, and you know how chatty he can be…" She wore glasses on a chain around her neck, reminding Sam of a librarian.

  "This is Mr. Owens, Amanda's father. He wanted to address some concerns with us." Mrs. White leaned back in her chair, steepling her fingers expectantly. With Mrs. Radcliff turned towards him, Sam again felt like he was in trouble for something.

  Clearing his throat, he began. "We're new to Serendipity. Amanda's mother passed away a few months ago. By moving here, we've sort of isolated ourselves from friends and family. The circumstances of her passing are not pleasant, nor the aftermath. I just wanted to meet with you ladies and explain so that you might help me with Amanda's adjustment period." They continued to stare at him blankly, making him even more uncomfortable. He cleared his throat. "Just so that I could be contacted if there are any problems, or anything. And to let you know the reasons behind any trouble she may cause…"

  "Is she going to cause trouble?" The teacher, Mrs. Radcliff spoke first. She looked ready to stand her ground against whatever Sam was planning to throw at her.

  "I don't think so, but she's had a hard time adjusting to her new … situation. I just wanted to give you guys a heads up, just in case something happened." He had actually been hoping for some empathy from her teacher, but apparently that wasn't happening. He stifled his frustration, not wanting to make things worse for Amanda.

  Mrs. White leaned forward, hands on her desk. She wore a sympathetic expression. "We will do what we can, Mr. Owens, but rules are rules. We expect every child to follow the rules, regardless of personal circumstance."

  "I was just hoping for a phone call if one of you sees her beginning to detach herself from the classroom, or not interacting with her peers, or something like that. I don't think she's going to be a problem."

  "Well, good. I'm glad we're on the same page." Mrs. White stood, holding out her hand.

  Sam stifled the rage that was suddenly burning inside him. These women were unbelievable. "I'm not finished. With all due respect, I just told you that a child's mother died, and she's moved from everything familiar to her, and asked for a little leniency with her situation, and all you ask about is whether or not she's a rule-breaker? Is there somebody else I can talk to? Your superintendent, maybe?" Sam was livid at the superiority of these women and the fact that her daughter would be spending all day long in this school. Maybe he should rethink the move.

  Mrs. White's face flushed and her eyes flashed dangerously, but her voice was calm and smooth. "Now, Mr. Owens that won't be necessary. I'm sincerely sorry for your perceptions of my words. We certainly didn't mean anything negative by them. We will do everything we can to help make Amanda's adjustment as smooth as possible, won't we, Mrs. Radcliff?" The mousy woman nodded, lips pursed, and Sam resisted the urge to pummel her.

  He didn't accept her offer to shake hands upon leaving, choosing instead to storm out of the office to wait outside for school to be out.

  Sam had worried about Amanda all day long. Since he didn't start his new job until next week, he hoped that this time would be a nice adjustment period for everybody. After meeting with her teacher and principal, he was having his doubts.

  This afternoon, he was interviewing the last of the nannies. There had only been six applicants, and this one was the only one whose references checked out. Sam just hoped she didn't need much money.

  He liked the neighborhood they'd moved into, and he hoped there were kids Amanda's age she could play with. That would be easier for both of them.

  He ran his fingers through his hair as he strode up to the walkers' pick-up line. It was a pretty day, if not a little chilly, even thoug
h it was February. This was Texas, after all. Still angry from his meeting, he willed his blood pressure to decrease by inhaling the bracing air.

  He leaned against the brick pillar, propping a foot up against the wall and looked around. Cars with bored parents in them lined the parking lot, waiting to pick up their kids. Sam eyed them curiously, idly speculating how early some of them got there to wait. There was a lady checking her make up in the visor mirror, rubbing something off her teeth. Another had her nose buried in a book. Yet another was working hard on a laptop.

  He noticed her immediately, not just because of the bright purple Impala, which was definitely something to notice, but the woman inside singing along to some song on her radio was striking. As he watched her lips move and her dark ponytail sway, Sam wondered what she was listening to that had her so oblivious to her surroundings.

  Sam sauntered over to the pillar nearest her car to watch her closer. He still had ten minutes before the bell rang to dismiss the students, and he didn’t have anything else to do.

  He watched her lips to see if he could read them, noticing her lashes, long against her cheeks, her eyes shut. Her hands were moving in time to the music, one clutched into a fist, banging her thigh in time to the rhythm, the other hand opened wide, swaying back and forth next to her head. She was lost in her own little world, and Sam's chest tightened in a peculiar way as he watched her.

  When her eyes opened, his eyes automatically darted to his left, so she wouldn't catch him gawking. He tried to make it look like he'd been scanning the parking lot, looking for something specific. Not finding it, he glanced down at his worn boots and leaned back against the pillar, pulling one boot up against it again, trying to strike a pose of nonchalance.

  He looked at his cell phone. Six minutes until the bell rang, and here he was, right next to a woman he'd just been staring at, hoping she hadn't caught him. He dared another look at her and saw her quickly look away.

  Smiling to himself, he stood up straight and turned to offer her a view of his backside. He struck another pose, this time, leaning with one hand on the pillar up high. He was a firefighter, so he worked out for his job, and he knew he looked good. Sam had never had any trouble getting into women's pants. This woman, who sang to herself in the line to pick up her kid, looked like a likely candidate.

  Getting bored with staring at a brick wall, he turned back around to his original position, to find the woman looking at her cell phone. Perplexed, he went back to looking at his shoes, wondering if he should ask for her number. She would certainly be a welcome diversion.

  When the bell rang, children came spilling out of the school doors, frazzled teachers in tow, trying in vain to keep the children corralled. They had the daunting task of safely delivering each child to a waiting vehicle. Sam didn't envy them that.

  Spotting Amanda, he went down on one knee and held his arms out for her. Cooly, she hugged him, pulling away before he had a chance to kiss her cheek. So he ruffled her hair instead.

  "Did you have a good day?"

  She shrugged, and Sam looked around for her teacher.

  Deciding he didn't want another confrontation, he grabbed his daughter's backpack and lunch kit in one hand and grasped her shoulder with the other. He led her across the parking lot and drove her home, his mind simultaneously fuming at the principal and daydreaming about the woman in the car.

  There was a blond woman sitting on the steps when Sam pulled into the driveway.

  "You must be Brenda." Sam extended a hand, smiling.

  She grasped it, her handshake firm. "Yeah, I'm sorry I'm early. I hate to be late. Consequently, I'm chronically early. Everywhere." She laughed nervously.

  Sam studied the woman. Tall, bleached hair, nice figure, green eyes, too much perfume, and khaki pants and polo shirt. The beginnings of crow's feet around the edges of her eyes told him she was probably in her mid to late thirties.

  "Um, if you need me to come back later, I can." She wrung her hands together, while her eyes scanned his body. He ignored her perusal, needing to keep this professional.

  "No. That's okay. Come on inside. Let me get Amanda settled, and we can do the interview." Assuming the boss interview mentality, he led Brenda inside. Amanda followed sullenly. Sam sent Amanda to her room to do her homework, before going to the kitchen to grab a package of cookies and some milk to take to her.

  "Dad?" She looked up at him, her face holding sadness a little girl her age shouldn't know.

  "Yeah, sweetie?" He went down on one knee next to his daughter, eager to connect.

  "Do I get to say if we hire her? I'm the one who'll end up spending the most time with her." Her round brown eyes looked at him beseechingly, full of unshed grief, tearing the hole in his heart a little bit wider.

  "Sure, babe. Just give me a little while with her first, okay? Do your math, and then you can come out and ask her whatever questions you want. Deal?" He hoped this woman would work out. He didn't have a lot of other options.

  "Deal." The corners of her mouth curled up slightly, and Sam was grateful for whatever he could get.

  Brenda was at the kitchen table, toying with a glass of water.

  "I fixed myself some water. I hope that's okay."

  Sam sat across from her. "Sure. Do you want anything else? I have more junk food than anybody should have a right to in this kitchen." He gestured magnanimously.

  Brenda giggled. "No, I'm good."

  "Okay, then here's the deal. I need somebody to pick up and drop my daughter off at school and spend the nights here while I go to work. We don't have local family, and since I'm new here, I haven't met any friends that I can impose on for this. I can't pay much, but you can help yourself to anything in the kitchen, and if you want something special, just make me a list and I'll buy it for you. Amanda is pretty self-sufficient for her age, but she's ten, which is too young to stay at home by herself for days at a time. Any questions about that?"

  "Will there be any nights off?" Brenda asked him.

  He took a deep breath. This was where they tended to waffle. "I work forty-eight hours on, and forty-eight off. I will also be on call a lot, so you'll need to come over at the spur of the moment sometimes."

  Brenda's gaze strayed from his eyes to his lips, and he hoped this wasn't going to be an uncomfortable situation. But he was desperate, and felt a disquieting relief when she nodded. "Sounds good."

  "Good. Now. You said you had sat with the elderly before, this probably isn't much different, except there will be fewer medicines to take." He was planning to give Brenda the paltry sum he could afford to pay her, when Amanda cleared her throat. Maybe he should let them meet before she found out she'd be working for peanuts. Hopefully Amanda could work some charm on her.

  "Here's Amanda. She wanted to meet you. Come here, Punkin." Amanda walked over, shyly, studying the woman intently.

  "Hello, Amanda. My name's Brenda. Hopefully, we'll be spending some time together, right?"

  Amanda's eyelids lowered slightly. "Maybe. I have some questions for you."

  Brenda looked surprised, then looked at Sam, who shrugged good-naturedly.

  "Okay. What questions do you have for me, Sugar?"

  Amanda thought for a minute, then started with, "What's your favorite color?"

  "Pink." Brenda answered without thinking about it.

  "Okay. How old are you?"

  "Thirty-four." Brenda was less forthcoming with that answer, and Sam wondered if she was going to hold his daughter's questions against him.

  "Hmmm…" The girl seemed to be pondering that answer, but eventually she asked the next one. "When's your birthday?"

  "January fifteenth." Again, the answer was automatic.

  "So you just turned thirty-four?" She sounded hopeful, for some reason.

  "Yes."

  That seemed to satisfy the age question, so Amanda moved on to her next one. "What's your favorite TV show?"

  Brenda appeared to think a minute. "Now, that's a hard one. I like a
bunch of them. Big Bang Theory, and Johnny Test are probably my favorites."

  "Johnny Test is a cartoon." Amanda said simply, as if Brenda were stupid.

  "I know, but his sisters crack me up. Those kids and their inventions." Sam appreciated the humor that Brenda was exhibiting and began to feel a little better about her.

  Amanda smiled at Brenda and stood up to leave. At the door, she turned and winked at her dad. He took that as a good sign.

  Sam turned to Brenda, telling her the miniscule amount he could afford to pay her. "What do you think?"

  "She's sweet, and I need a job. You seem like a good guy to work for." She turned her water glass in circles before finally looking up at him and smiling. "What do you think?"

  Sam smiled at her. "You're hired. Can you start Sunday? That's my first night, but if you want to start Saturday, so you can get the feel for the routine, then that would be fine, too."

  Brenda stood, "Cool. I'll be by Saturday. Eight o'clock? Is that right?"

  "A quarter 'till. I need to be at the station by eight. And then I'll be home by eight-fifteen in the mornings. Okay?"

  Chapter 2

  From Remainingrachel.com

  What now?

  I get all kinds of questions from people who have just learned that a loved was diagnosed with HIV or AIDS, and they want me to tell them what to do. I will try to answer this in a blog post, as to save time and effort for all involved.

  The absolute first thing to do is to continue to love and support your loved one as much as possible. They are still the same exact person they were prior to diagnosis. Continue your relationship with them as if nothing has changed, unless of course, it's a sexual relationship, then do a little thinking first.

 

‹ Prev