Sorry...Wrong Number
Page 1
SORRY…WRONG NUMBER
Jamallah Bergman
Erotic Romance
Secret Cravings Publishing
www.secretcravingspublishing.com
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A Secret Cravings Publishing Book
Erotic Romance
Sorry…Wrong Number
Copyright © 2012 Jamallah Bergman
E-book ISBN: 978-1-61885-416-2
First E-book Publication: October 2012
Cover design by Dawne Dominique
Edited by Colleen McSpirit
Proofread by E. L. Felder
All cover art and logo copyright © 2012 by Secret Cravings Publishing
ALL RIGHTS RESERVED: This literary work may not be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means, including electronic or photographic reproduction, in whole or in part, without express written permission.
All characters and events in this book are fictitious. Any resemblance to actual persons living or dead is strictly coincidental.
PUBLISHER
Secret Cravings Publishing
www.secretcravingspublishing.com
Dedication
To Alexander Graham Bell (1847-1922), inventor of the telephone
Because without his invention, there would be no wrong numbers
The author acknowledges the trademark status and the following trademark owners mentioned in this work of fiction.
Cadillac Escalade
Flesh Light
Starbucks
Ruth’s Chris
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Rachel Hayes' father set out to prove the existence of the Miloni temple and the Jaguar people. Tumi is a descendant of the Miloni race and is sworn to protect their secret with his life. Will he be forced to uphold his vow at the cost of his heart and Rachel's life?
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SORRY…WRONG NUMBER
Jamallah Bergman
Copyright © 2012
Part One
MARCIE’S STORY
Chapter One
It had been a very long day for her, busting her ass working as a waitress at a local diner. The place wasn’t the best, but it was the people who made working there worthwhile. As she walked into her apartment, the phone rang. Normally she didn’t even bother to answer the phone when she first got home, but for some reason at that moment she did just that.
“Hello?”
At first no one said a word, then Marcie heard a deep voice on the other end ask, “Yes, can I speak to Frank?”
“I’m sorry, but you have the wrong number,” she told him quickly hanging up the phone.
Kicking off her shoes, Marcie sat down on the couch, trying to decide what she was going to do next. The phone rang again. “Yes?”
“Can I speak to Frank?” asked the same male voice.
“I hate to burst your bubble but there is no Frank here,” Marcie said and again hung up the phone.
Whoever this Frank fella was, he hadn’t given this guy the right number.
She decided to take a shower. Marcie needed to get all the grease and smell of Tuesday’s meatloaf dinner special off of her body. Going into the bathroom, she started the shower, quickly disrobed and after testing the water temperature with her hand she got inside. Standing under the showerhead, she scrubbed herself until the smell was gone. It just felt so good to wash all of the grime and stink of the day off her body.
After putting on her nightshirt, she was heading back into the kitchen for some leftovers when the phone rang again. “Hello?”
“Yes, ma’am, I wanted to call back and tell you how sorry I was to have kept calling you like that, I did get the right phone number for my friend Frank.”
It was him again, the man with the deep voice.
“Well, I’m glad you were able to find your friend’s number.” She went to the fridge to get out food to put into the microwave.
“What are you doing?”
“I’m just heating up some leftovers.”
“Really? What are you having for dinner?” he asked.
“Spaghetti and meatballs.” Marcie realized she was telling this com
plete stranger what she was having for dinner. “I’m sorry, why I am even talking to you, much less telling you what I’m having for dinner?”
Marcie heard him chuckle and she had to admit, he sounded appealing. “I’m sorry, but I had to call back, I thought you sounded cute during those two other calls.”
‘Cute’ he said. This man whom she didn’t even know thought she sounded cute over the phone. He must be crazy or something because Marcie had never thought her voice was cute. “You must be joking.”
“Oh, I’m very serious. Well, I’ll let you go, have a good meal.” And with that, he hung up and she continued with what she had planned on doing before—eating leftovers for dinner.
* * * *
“He said you sounded cute?” asked Lorraine, a waitress she worked with during the lunch shift.
Wednesday was the busiest day of the week; it was due of course, to Jerry’s famous pot roast with mashed potatoes and gravy special for both lunch and dinner. “Yeah, can you believe that shit? I thought he was joking at first but he really sounded serious and he sounded really good too,” Marcie said, grabbing a second plate of food and putting it on the tray.
“He probably just wanted to hear your voice again after the first two times he called.”
“For all I know he could be some pervert getting his cheap thrills off by calling up unsuspecting girls. Hopefully, he won’t bother calling me again,” Marcie said, before walking over to one of her favorite customers.
Mr. Jones was his name, that’s all anybody knew of him. He’d never told anyone his first name and Marcie had never bothered to ask. He had been coming to the diner for as long as it had been there, about thirty years. He always sat in the same booth and ordered the same exact thing-—pot roast and mashed potatoes with gravy. “Here you are, Mr. Jones, would you like some more coffee and water?”
“Thank you, Marcie,” Mr. Jones said with his diminutive voice. She got a fresh pot of coffee and brought him another glass of water. After she poured, he waved her away while he continued reading his paper. Marcie went about her daily routine, refilling cups of soda, tea, water, and coffee. Taking orders, serving food, clearing tables—-you name it, even though it was sometimes a hard job to do, she did it. Whenever they had their break, Marcie and Lorraine would go to a quiet table off in a corner to eat whatever they had Jerry make for them. Marcie’s lunch of choice this particular day was the club sandwich with onion rings, while Lorraine served herself some soup.
“So, finish telling me about this mystery caller of yours.”
“There’s nothing more to tell, he kept calling me, thinking that some guy named Frank was living there and then the last time he called, he said I sounded cute,” Marcie said, taking a bite of sandwich.
“Wonder if he’ll call back?”
“Why would he want to call me back?”
“You never know, Marcie, he just might call you back if he thinks you sound cute. Even better, if he sounds as hot as you said he sounds, there’s no telling what will happen or where this will go.”
How in the hell was she to know that this would happen again? As soon as Marci walked into her apartment that evening after work, the phone rang. Of course, like an idiot, she picked it up. “Hello?”
“Hello again dear, how was your day?” Marcie thought his voice sounded very inviting even though this was her fourth time hearing it and this time he was calling her “dear.”
“Hello again, my day was fine and yours?”
“It was good, thank you,” he said, then sighed.
This was crazy, she thought, and couldn’t believe she was standing there talking on the phone with this stranger. Marcie took her shoes off and sat down on the couch. “Why are you calling me?”
“Because you sounded cute and I want to get to know you,” he said.
Even though he couldn’t see her, Marcie shook her head in response. “For all I know, you could be a serial killer who likes to call up unsuspecting women over the phone. Hell, I don’t even know your name and you act like I’ve known you for years,” she said.
“Jonathan, my name is Jonathan, and yours?” he asked.
Marcie was very apprehensive about letting this man know who she was and there was no way in hell she would give him her real name. She had to make something up, so she decided to give him the first name that popped into her head. “Joan, I’m Joan.”
“Nice talking with you, Joan. Don’t worry, I’m kind of nervous myself. I’ve never done this before, getting to know a perfect stranger over the phone.”
“Well, this is a first for both of us, then.” Marcie giggled as she sat down on the couch.
“You have a really cute laugh, Joan.”
Who the hell was this guy? All this cuteness he kept serving her up. “You must do this often, Jonathan. You are way too cool and calm, talking to me like this.”
“Well, what would you like to talk about?”
“Did you ever talk with your friend Frank?” she asked, hearing him laugh this time. It sounded just as good as his voice.
“Yeah, I finally did, I’m a real estate agent and he is a good friend in addition to being one of my partners. He just got a new phone with a new number and come to find out, I mixed up the last two digits when I wrote them down, which was my fault since I was in a rush. But we got everything straightened out. What do you do?”
“Just stuff, I rather not say just yet what I do.”
“I understand. Well, what do you like to do for fun?”
“I go out sometimes, which hasn’t happened lately. So, when I come home, I take a shower, eat, and turn on the television until I fall asleep,” Marcie told him while counting her tips.
“Yeah, that sounds like what I normally do. Just put in a good movie and have some wine and just chill. I don’t like going out much anymore.”
Soon, Marcie found herself listening to him while he talked about where he’d gone to college and how he became a realtor. She discovered they shared a love of chocolate as well. She also listened as he talked about his travels around the world. Marcie told him a little about herself, but not so much as to give away her true identity. This whole idea of chatting with him still made her feel iffy.
Marcie didn’t realize they had been talking on the phone for nearly four hours straight until the phone battery started to die. “I’ve got to get some sleep or I’ll never be able to do my shift at work tomorrow. You have a good night, Jonathan,” she told him with a yawn.
“Sure thing, Joan, talk with you later.”
* * * *
“Four hours!” Lorraine said the next day while clearing a table.
“Yeah four hours on the phone, I hadn’t realized we were on that long. It was actually pretty nice too.”
“And his name is Jonathan and he works in real estate. Please tell me you didn’t tell him your real name, Marcie?”
“Are you insane? Hell, no! I didn’t tell him my real name. I told him my name is Joan,” Marcie said with a smile as she brought Mr. Jones his meal and another fresh pot of coffee.
“Did you see this in the newspaper? These hooligans went and robbed this store and getting about fifteen hundred dollars’ worth of stuff? What the hell is this world coming to these days, Marcie?” he asked her as she placed his plate in front of him and poured him another cup of coffee.
“I honestly don’t even know, Mr. Jones. Times are changing,” Marcie said, with concern as he looked up and shook his head before continuing to read his paper.
“Besides, Mr. Jones, you shouldn’t dwell on things like that; you have your health as well as family too.” Marcie reminded him. But, of course, he went back to his paper, never looking up except for shaking his head in annoyance. For as long as Marcie had known Mr. Jones, hell, for as long as anybody had known him, Mr. Jones never cracked a smile, much less made a joke. It was weird not seeing him smile, especially considering how many jokes and moments of laughter had come across the tables and booths of this diner.
“So, you think he’ll call you again tonight?” Lorraine asked, as Marcie grabbed napkins for a customer from the wait station.
“He might, and he might not, it doesn’t matter to me much. The whole experience was weird as hell,” Marcie lied. She really wanted to hear his voice again. She didn’t know why, but his voice seemed to captivate her, it was so deep and soothing. Plus, Marcie enjoyed listening to him talk about his life and some of the places he had been to, especially Italy. That was a place she had always wanted to visit ever since reading and watching that movie, Under the Tuscan Sun.
When Marcie got home, the phone was quiet that evening. In a way, she was irked as the evening passed and there was still no call from him. Marcie went to bed tired as well as disappointed. The following morning, the phone rang just as her hand moved towards the receiver. “Hello?”
“Good morning, sleepyhead,” he said as she sat up in bed and rubbed her eyes for a moment to gain focus on her surroundings.
“Good morning, Jonathan, how are you today?”
“I wanted to apologize for not calling you last night. I had a rough night dealing with some clients. But I promise to call you tonight as usual, so wake up and get ready for work, darling, good bye.” And then he hung up, leaving her with a sense of happiness so that she bounced out of bed. It made Marcie ponder about the mysterious Jonathan while she got ready for work—who he really was and what he looked like? These were questions she would have to ask him later tonight.
Chapter Two