In Love by Design (The Adventures of Anabel Axelrod)

by Ellen, Tracy

  In the meantime, I’ll need every advantage possible and that included a suddenly psychic sister. I groaned at this newest problem and added it to the top of my mental list of woes. Having a big, fat target painted on my back was an experience I do not want to keep repeating, especially during the busy holiday season at the bookstore.

  I called Jazy.

  She answered talking, “It’s about frickin’ time! We are literally walking out the door to come to your house!”

  Finding my fun where I can, I disguised my voice and said, “I have your sister and she is mine now, horse girl, all mine.”

  “Very funny, Anabel, you ass,” Jazy retorted, but sniggered. “My God, I have been climbing the walls!”

  Tre called out in the background, “She has, Bel!”

  I assured her that I’m alive and thanked her sincerely for her concern. Jazy was enormously relieved. Her fears lessened when she heard I’m with Luke, but they don’t totally evaporate. She stated reluctantly that it was better than me being alone, but by her tone; Luke still needed to prove himself to my sister.

  “The craziest thing happened after we drove off from following you home. Out of nowhere, I started feeling sick and dizzy. I thought for sure I was going to toss my cookies. I felt too yucky to go to the party, so James took me home. I hung out on the sofa and now I feel fine.”

  “Wow, that is crazy, you’re never sick,” I replied. “Hey, is this your roundabout way of confessing you barfed up Mac’s nachos and ruined my new dress?”

  “Darn, you caught me,” Jazy deadpanned.

  I laughed. “Still, this is not like you to go maternal on me.” I had another alarming thought. “Holy Moly, tell me you’re not knocked up, too!”

  “Bite your tongue, Sister!” Jazy exclaimed in horror.

  I laughed again. “Whew! That was a close one!”

  I decided to wait to tell them both the whole story about Dickie and the abduction. I had planned on asking Jazy and Tre for their assistance on another matter and wanted to get together with them tomorrow.

  “Want to hang out tomorrow night around eight?” I asked. “I know its Friday night and short notice, so I’ll forgive you if you girls have hot dates already and can’t.”

  Jazy didn’t hesitate. “If it’s more damn wedding stuff, I’m busy. Tre says she’s busy, too.”

  I snickered, “Oh yeah, you know how I love all the wedding stuff. I just can’t escape the brides easily like you two lucky dogs! No, it has nothing to do with the weddings, but I need you both for your expertise.”

  “Yeah, we’re lucky to live out in the country,” Jazy agreed smugly. “Nope, we don’t have any plans we can’t change. What’s up?”

  “We’ve been recruited to do a ninja job. I can’t talk now, but I’ll come to your house at eight tomorrow night after work and fill you guys in, okay? Oh, shoot. What about Blanca?”

  Jazy’s voice sounded much more enthused now. “Blanca’s cool. She’s staying with Stella again tomorrow night to make decorations for Anna’s shower on Sunday afternoon. I believe they’re creating teal blue tissue flowers to mix in arrangements with real flowers of white roses...”

  “What the…seriously? You’re talking wedding stuff to me?” I griped, only half teasing.

  “Crap, I’m infected! Save me!” Jazy laughed. “Hey, does recruited mean we’re getting paid?”

  I smiled grimly. “Trust me, if we don’t do this, we will be the ones paying for a long time.”

  “Uh oh, that doesn’t sound good,” Jazy said. ‘Okay, I won’t bug you because I know you can’t talk with Luke around, but don’t be late. I’m curious as hell. Wait a sec.” I faintly heard Tre’s voice again. “Tre wants to know if she should borrow a car, so that we can travel incognito.”

  “See why I need you two so much? Tell her that’s a great idea! See you guys at eight sharp tomorrow. Later, Sis, love you!”

  “She’s getting mushy on me, Tre! I swear the earth has tilted on its ajax!” Jazy sang out before ending the call.

  Smiling, I mouthed “axis” to myself and felt a teeny bit guilty. I should take the time to let Jaz know she was absolutely right to be freaking out about me tonight, but I’ll tell her tomorrow. Jazy can wait one more day to find out she’s ready for her own TV show to talk with dead people. Right now, I’m too sick of talking to live people. After waiting on customers all day at the bookstore, and then spending the evening at Mac’s with a gaggle of women talking nonstop weddings and frightfully graphic birth stories, I was already tired of humans when I got home tonight. That was before I was kidnapped by the princess bride.

  Now that I’ve gone and reminded myself of the evening earlier at Mac’s house, I slumped down in the seat and stared unseeingly at the phone in my hand.

  After Luke’s disturbing behaviors, my sister Mac was the next big problem on the mental list I’d been composing before being interrupted by my abduction.

  When I was the first to arrive at Mac’s house at seven, I learned she had arranged this to talk privately before the other women arrived. Mac immediately whisked me off to the master bedroom and fell apart before my eyes. Only weeks after telling me that Diego is the light of her life, I was dumbfounded to be informed Mac may be pulling the plug on their marriage. She suspects Diego has married her for money and wants me to investigate.

  As my sister angrily explained her suspicions while I patted her back, I grimaced at the irony. ‘Are Axelrod women just cursed in general? Are we forever doomed to be dancing our cha-cha’s straight down the yellow brick road to relationship Hell like a bunch of sex-starved munchkins?’

  So why does Mac suspect this and why do I have to be the damn investigator?

  I know, that’s what I asked her, too!

  Diego’s behavior was straight out of an Oprah episode on what signs to look for in a cheating spouse. He’s been working day and night, he’s irritable and distracted, he’s been receiving calls and texts at all hours, he patted her on the head like she’s a dog, (I quickly stopped patting Mac’s back) and suddenly he showing no interest in their sex life. To add insult to injury, yesterday Diego asked Mac for ten thousand dollars. He wouldn’t look her in the eye and got angrily defensive when she asked to know, and rightfully so, why he needed the money.

  If Mac’s suspicions were correct, her pride can’t bear for anyone else to know that she knows Diego was stepping out on her. In her opinion, it’s a terrible enough blow for her to publically admit she’d made a mistake by naively marrying him so quickly when all her friends counseled her to wait.

  Mac’s grand plan was to leave Diego first. In the court of public opinion, she’d be divorcing him on the grounds of his emotional immaturity which, according to her, everyone believed anyway due to their twelve year age difference.

  I tried valiantly not to snicker at hearing that, since isn’t emotional immaturity a given where men are concerned, as compared to women, regardless of any age differences?

  Exactly.

  Seeing the whites of Mac’s eyes showing around her aqua-blue orbs, I sat on the edge of their bed. Calmly, I brought up alternatives for Diego’s behavior other than him not loving her or breaking his wedding vows.

  “You know Mac, all those signs point to being blackmailed, too. Or Diego could be suffering from sad penis dysfunction and he’s seeking treatment. Could either of those be a possibility?”

  Mac’s dark scowl got darker. When I said Mac fell apart, I didn’t mean she started crying. That’s not the way Axelrod women fall apart. We tend to rant and rave while railing at the Universe. Perhaps we scream out a few obscenities, and then we get down to plotting pain-filled revenge.

  My sister rolled her eyes. “For God’s sake, he’s a Latino man, Bel. Their penises are always happy to function. That’s what has me crazy. If that penis is not here,” she stamped her foot indicating her luxuriously appointed bedroom, “doing it with me, then by God, I want to know where it has been before I dump his cheating ass!” She glared
at me like I was nuts. “Blackmail? What skeletons could an emotionally immature man of twenty-five possibly have in his closet, for crying out loud? Why would being blackmailed make the two-timing jerk not…not even want to be near me?”

  After dashing a furious hand over her eyes, Mac started ranting and raving up and down the length of the bedroom while plotting. Watching her agitation, I refrained from logically pointing out that there’s no age limit on stupidity. Mac was really worked up, but I knew she was mostly worried sick under all that anger.

  Turned out, lucky me was the only person with half a brain that Mac trusted to confide her humiliating suspicions regarding Diego.

  I agreed, how could I possibly say no to play detective after being so buttered up?

  So I sighed and gave in gracefully to the inevitable.

  “I think you’re mistaken that Diego is messing around, Mac, because I believe he loves you. However, something is hinky and I will investigate,” I held up a hand when she whirled to face me with a big smile, “but only if you make a deal.”

  The eagerness dimming on her face, Mac crossed her arms and narrowed her pretty eyes. “What deal?”

  I crossed my arms, too. “There’s no way I’m investigating alone. I know it’s hard for you, but the deal is I get to tell Jazy and Tre J. You know they’ll keep their mouths shut.”

  Mac looked down in thought for a second, biting her lip. She muttered sulkily, “Tre’s okay, but Jazy thinks Diego’s a boy-toy.”

  I stood up to give my sad sister a bracing one-armed hug and laughed. “Hell, we all think that, Mac, but every girl deserves her toys.”

  Sniggering and glowering at the same time. Mac looked up at the ceiling and entreated, “What did I ever do to deserve such sisters?”

  The doorbell rang. Leading her out of the bedroom, I squeezed my oldest sibling’s arm and answered cheerfully, “No need to look up there for answers, Mac, you’re just incredibly lucky.”

  Thinking about tomorrow night’s ninja plan, it’s difficult to find the bright side of investigating my sister’s husband of suspected infidelity. I smelled a lose-lose situation for Team Anabel on this one. Somebody’s not going to be happy with me at the end of all this. I guess the bright side is that they’ll be mad at Jaz and Tre J, too.

  Shifting in the truck’s front seat, I accidentally put pressure on my left butt cheek and a stabbing pain was the result. Flipping up my short skirt, I gently skimmed my fingers along my butt until they touched a piece of a splinter sticking out above the skin. It was long enough to get a good grip with my finger and thumb, and I slowly pulled it out. Feeling several more that weren’t so easily accessible, I pushed the visor back up and made another phone call.

  There’s only one person I’d call at close to midnight on a work night to pull splinters out of my ass, and I figured she can’t say no, since I agreed to be her Maid of Honor. Fair is fair.

  Anna’s voice was groggy with sleep when she answered, and she kept repeating in surprise, “I can’t believe you’re calling me!”

  I don’t think it’s that unbelievable that I am calling, so after the third time, I interrupted her refrain and told her what I needed. This had her wide awake and laughing in no time.

  Anna bargained, “Ah…sure, I’ll agree to operate when you get here, if you promise to answer every question I have about how you got the splinters!”

  I grumpily agreed, knowing I am creating a monster, but having little choice.

  She paused and then asked, “Where are you right now, anyway?”

  It struck me that her tone of voice sounded like she was trying very hard to be casually nonchalant.

  Frowning, I answered, “Waiting for Luke in his truck. Why?”

  Anna only laughed again and said a quick, muffled goodbye before hanging up.

  I shrugged at her flakiness and relaxed back after that call. I still hadn’t listened to my fake godmother’s voicemail, but I was getting drowsy and put it off again to rest my eyes.

  They fluttered open when Luke did a soft rap on the driver’s window to be let in. On a rush of cold air, my boyfriend filled the truck cab with his large body and powerful presence. Over the unpleasant odors radiating from me and my clothes, I breathed in the clean masculine scent that was unique to Luke. It never failed to send my senses reeling. I floated off again on a puffy pheromone cloud into la-la land, happy to be alive.

  He clicked on a soft light and adjusted his seat back. I didn’t move, but my eyes lazily traveled over my Hero from top to bottom. He didn’t look any the worse for wear, not even a short black hair was out of place.

  Propping his knee over the console and turning his body my way, Luke slowly pulled off his black leather gloves while taking me in lying stretched out on the passenger seat. From the seductive smile curving his mouth and the teasing expression in his eyes, Luke now appeared quite chipper when compared to his coldness in the kitchen fifteen minutes ago. Beating up the kidnapper seems to have accomplished what kissing his girlfriend couldn’t—it restored Torquemada’s good mood.

  My boyfriend, who hasn’t contacted me in two weeks, reached over and tugged playfully on a long, blonde curl hanging down the front of my blazer. “Princess, I can see you’re suffering from post-traumatic stress. I think what you need right now is your first fuck in a Ford-150.”

  “You’re just saying that to make me feel better,” I replied, and gave an elaborate yawn.

  Luke raised a brow. “Is it working?”

  I screwed up my face and then shook my head. “It’s too romantic for my taste. I prefer a blunter approach.”

  Luke laughed and sat back. He reached inside his leather jacket and took out a very small gift bag. It was stop sign red.

  Smiling, he held it out to me and moved his head in that arrogant motion. “Then I owe you another apology because you are going to hate this.”

  I stared longingly at the little bag. Small gift bags rate high on my scale of good presents, very high. Small could potentially mean jewelry or perhaps even a key to a hideaway cabin where a man with amazing arm muscles and a super dong could sexually torment me for days.

  I tore my eyes away from the little red matador cape being waved under my nose and met Luke’s green gaze. I saw a guarded look beneath the confidence. Something was wrong here. There was still a sense of remoteness in Luke below the surface of his teasing that I don’t understand. It’s beyond the anger I’ve felt brimming since Luke appeared in the kitchen doorway. I’d attributed that to wanting to protect me, but maybe I was mistaken. I quickly scan my memory to be certain, but I can’t think of any reason he would have to be unhappy with me since we last kissed goodbye at Thanksgiving.

  “Another apology?” I felt a little hitch in my heartbeat. “What was the first?”

  He shrugged a wide shoulder. “You’re probably upset I haven’t called you in the last couple of weeks, so I brought you this gift, as my way of groveling.”

  “Is there a reason you didn’t call?” I asked, my voice lilting hopefully, “Was something wrong?”

  I couldn’t help but notice he wasn’t wearing hand casts and still had his tongue.

  Luke adjusted the heat vent. When he met my eyes again, his were cool and he repeated that one shoulder arrogant shrug thing again.

  He motioned in my direction with the gift bag and said, “Nothing was wrong. I was busy with a training class I had to take over because the scheduled instructor had a family emergency.”

  Pushing up to a sitting position, I kept my weight on my left thigh and hip. “I see.”

  Actually, I don’t know why I said that. I don’t see anything at all. Men make time for what interests them the most. Sometimes they are genuinely super busy, but even that rarely stops a man from contacting a woman he has the hots for. If a man tells you they were too busy to call or see you, it’s generally because their desire to do so was less than any inconvenience they’d suffer making it happen. Regardless, it’s never a good sign. Even if you’re s
ure they love you, what woman wants to be so low on the totem pole that they’re considered an inconvenience?

  Not me, that’s for damn sure.

  As a grown woman, I’ve had zero personal experience being a girlfriend. My only previous love relationship was a high school romance with no real issues, until my ex-cousin drugged and had sex with that boyfriend which caused our break up. I’m not sure what to do about the sick feeling in my gut at the way Luke was acting. Technically, our relationship as an official couple was merely hours old in the real time that we’ve spent together, so this was uncharted territory. I’m going to fall back on what works when I hire on a new employee at the store.

  ‘It’s always best to start as you mean to go on.’

  I don’t know who coined this phrase originally, but I loved this no bullshit approach. My staff must, as well, since they rarely quit without a good reason. People need to know their boundaries and this includes a smart, strong, tough, cruel, and arrogantly dumbass man.

  Control freaks are often misunderstood people. I can’t speak for every one of us, but I have no desire to rule the whole world. I only want to control my reaction to what the whole world throws my way.

  I think it shows a high level of control when I accepted the gift bag from Luke’s hand, at the same time I hit the button to slide down the passenger window. Without hesitating, I sailed that little red flag right out the window.

  Giving just one finger to the man I love also exhibits impressive restraint, thank you very much, since he really deserved both barrels.

  I dusted my hands off in a deliberate manner. “You’re probably going to be “upset”, but that is how I react when I’m left twisting in the wind for two weeks.”

  Leaning towards me, Luke’s eyes glittered like cut diamonds and he spoke with menacing softness, “You’re lucky you have splinters in your ass right now.”

  Leaning towards him, our noses are inches apart. “Since you’re always threatening to spank me when you’re mad, I’m sure you’ll understand when I do this!” I shoved Luke’s arrogant shoulders hard with the heels of my hands, “How dare you taint the gift giving process with your stupid groveling gift bag!” I shoved him again, even though he’d barely budged the first time, and yelled, “Now please, take me home!”