Klutzy Love

by Sharon Kleve

“I’m speechless. I have to write another email and then rescue Langfield Laboratorie’s reputation.”

  Hello all,

  Ralph has been spotted with an object hanging from his ear. Do you think someone can help him please? He is our boss and remember, ‘Ralph’s success is our success.’

  Thank you,

  Corny Myers

  Executive Assistant to the President

  “I need to go find out why Ralph’s in the dumpster. Will you behave if I leave you alone?”

  “Absolutely. Of course. You bet.”

  “Ugh.” I got out of my comfy chair, put on my wool coat, and ran down three flights of stairs and caught sight of Ralph as he climbed out of a dumpster. I startled him when I said, “Ralph, what are you looking for? As the president of Langfield Laboratories, you probably shouldn’t rummage around in the garbage. You’ll get your clothes all dirty and stinky.”

  “I’m the boss and I can look in the garbage if I want to.” He sounded like a four-year-old.

  With my hands on my hips I calmly said, “Okay, you’re right. But are you going to tell me why you’re in there? Maybe I can help you.”

  “I thought maybe my mail got thrown away accidently, that’s all.” And then he climbed out and landed on the pavement on his knees—ouch!

  I turned to leave in disgust and caught him out of the corner of my eye as he tried to climb back in. “Stop. Ralph, please stay out of the garbage.”

  “My ear thingy fell off. I’ve got to go back in and find it.”

  “All right, go ahead. But if you plan to come back to the office, you should change your clothes, because you’re dirty and you stink.” Oh boy, he was a train wreck.

  ***

  “Wow, your phone rang off the hook. What happened down there?”

  “Nothing worth discussing. What have you been up to?”

  “I had this great idea for a practical joke. Is he coming back today?”

  “I have no idea. Come on, let’s go to the roof. It’s sunny out. What’s your great prank idea?”

  “Wait and see….”

  “Uh-oh.”

  Pete scurried into Ralph’s office and made it out again as the elevator door opened and out walked stinky Ralph. “I told you to change your clothes before coming back to work.”

  He snarled. “Stuff it,” while he shut his door. He screeched like a little girl, stormed out of his office, turned around and pointed to his butt. “Why is there a tack stuck to my butt? Get it off!.”

  “I’m not touching your butt. Do it yourself. The cleaning service must have dropped it when they cleaned your office last night.” Pete was ingenious, but I couldn’t let it happen again.

  To throw him off guard I said, “Here, eat this orange; it’ll make you feel better.” He did as he was told and ate the orange. I needed to make sure I kept a supply in my drawer.

  CHAPTER FIVE

  I had another sleepless night worried about Steve, the possible serial killer and Ralph, the nincompoop. A night away from Pete and a little fun with my best friends was exactly what I needed. Pete constantly chuckled about the tack he put on Ralph’s chair. It was funny, but enough already. I’d need to keep a close eye on Mr. Practical Joker.

  When I got home from work, I picked up the phone, “Hey Brenda, are you up for a large plate of cheesy nachos at Chico’s tonight?”

  “Absolutely. I’ll call Kitty and see if she’s interested. Either way I’ll see you at 6:30.”

  ***

  We were lucky to get our favorite booth in the corner. “I’m glad you two could make it. It’s been one of those weeks. How about you guys? What have you been up to?”

  “Well, Kitty wouldn’t spill the beans about what happened with you and that sexy guy you left with last time. Give me all the juicy details,” Brenda insisted.

  “He was great in bed, but he left before I woke up. I decided it was prudent to leave before he got back.”

  “Why? What did he do?”

  “I snooped around his house and my imagination got the better of me when there wasn’t anything personal to be found anywhere. I went with my gut and hightailed it out of there. Let’s not discuss Steve anymore. I’m hungry, let’s order.”

  “Hey Corny… he won’t come back here will he?” Kitty sounded worried.

  “No, probably not.”

  Our stomachs were bloated after we shared a large plate of nachos and finished off a plate of beef Chimichungas with refried beans, and rice. Suddenly, Kitty got a bugged-eyed look and fanned her face with her bar napkin. When I looked over at the bar, I couldn’t believe my eyes. It was Steve—aka the serial killer.

  I looked to my two best friends for advice―not always the best advisors, but they were the only ones there at the time. “Should I pretend not to see him and make a run for it?”

  Kitty thought for a moment, twirling her hair around her finger. “Let’s ignore him and maybe he’ll go away. But if he doesn’t, I brought my stun gun and it’s fully charged.”

  Brenda had a different opinion. “He might not be a criminal. If he comes over, ask him and if we get a creepy feeling, Kitty can drop him to his knees with a quick zap.”

  “You’re funny; like he’d admit to that.” I still wasn’t sure what to do because he was seriously sexy. I carefully considered all the great advice I got from Kitty and Brenda and decided my best option was to run for the hills.

  I inched forward out of my seat and whispered, “Bye guys, I’m out of here. I’m not risking my heart or my limbs.” I gathered my things and walked toward the front door. Would it look ridiculous if I picked up my pace to a rapid trot? In one of my nightmares, I’d pictured Steve in the woods with his victims. He first licked them unconscious, then hacked them to little bitty pieces, and buried them under a pine tree—hence his wonderful pine cone scent.

  My brain screamed run, but my hormones whispered stay. He was incredibly gorgeous, great in bed, and what if he wasn’t a serial killer?

  Steve’s luck finally changed when he spotted Corny in the corner booth with her two friends. He’d stopped by a couple of times in the past few weeks and hoped she would show up. He’d introduce himself this time since they didn’t get that far the last time they were together. In his line of work, you couldn’t be a pussy, but he was still a little confused as to why she took off.

  Well, he could return her pink thong, but how would he explain why he had it in the first place? He grabbed the thong and put it in his pocket before he went out for breakfast. It was like a bright pink neon piece of heaven that called out to him.

  As he was contemplating what to say to her, she got up and left. Geez, she moved fast. He caught up to her in the parking lot. “Hey Corny, stop, I want to talk to you.”

  She stopped, turned and blurted, “Steve, are you a serial killer?”

  “My name is Steve Spears and I’m a Narcotics Detective. Why in the world would you think I’m a serial killer?”

  “Uh, well, I have an overactive imagination that occasionally leads me to the wrong conclusion. I want to believe you, but I’d feel better if I could see your badge.”

  “First, you call me a serial killer, and now you want to see my badge—you’re certifiable. Fine, here it is. Now, can we find a quiet place and talk? We didn’t do a lot of talking the last time we were together.”

  “It looks real to me. Do you want to go back inside?”

  “No, it’s too noisy. How about we go to my place and I’ll drive you back here later?”

  “Okay, that’s fine. Let me go back inside and let my friends know you’re not a psycho, like we first thought you were. Before I do that, can I have a kiss? I’ve been thinking non-stop about your lips.”

  “Absolutely….. I missed yours too.”

  “Wow, you’
ve got soft lips, Steve.”

  “You do too and I need more… Hurry up.”

  “I’ll be right back.”

  ***

  “What did your friends say?”

  “They told me to be careful and have fun.”

  “Here, put your helmet on and let’s get going before the sky opens up on us.”

  “Hey, something’s not right. Steve, we’re heading in the wrong direction. I was a little tipsy the other night, but we were in West Seattle and now we’re heading to Renton. Unless you have several homes, you need to explain now.”

  “Can’t it wait until we get to my house? It’s only a couple miles away.”

  “I’m afraid not. Please pull over.”

  Steve shook his head but did as she instructed. The sky chose that moment to open up on them. “That was my brother’s rental house I was staying in because of a little termite problem. The bugs are dead and I’m back in my own house now.”

  “Oh okay, that explains a lot.”

  “Can we go now or do you want to sit here in the rain a little while longer?”

  “Oh, you’re a funny guy, huh? Let’s go before we drown.”

  Ten minutes later, Steve shrugged out of his wet jacket and said, “Let’s go sit down. I’ll make a fire and we can start on the questions I hear forming in that beautiful noggin of yours. Do you want a drink? I have beer or more beer.”

  “A beer would be great.”

  If he had a scorecard for sexy points, Corny would get one hundred points because she drank beer and another two hundred points because she dug his bike. If she liked football and pizza she could be the girl of his dreams. He’d dated a lot of women, but never found one that could frustrate and turn him on in the blink of an eye. “Here you go. Start the interrogation.” He knew whatever she came up with he could handle.

  “Why did you leave me at that house alone without a note?”

  Steve took a deep breath. “I went to the store to pick up food for breakfast. I thought I’d be back before you woke up. That’s why I didn’t leave a note. When I got back to an open front door, I knew I’d made a mistake, but we didn’t even exchange last names. That makes it almost impossible to find a person—even for a cop.”

  “My imagination got the better of me and I thought you were out buying serial killer tools and you were going to come back to lick me to death and then slice and dice me.”

  Steve heard the low drone of his beeper and swore. “I hate my beeper… I hate my beeper. I have to carry it with me because my snitches might have information for me, day or night. Crap, I have to make a phone call. I’ll be right back.” He walked down the hall to another room to make the call.

  A couple minutes later, Steve came back and said, “Sorry, but I have to go. My partner Kyle will be here in a couple minutes. Let’s cover a couple of important questions before he arrives, okay?”

  “Okay, shoot… not literally please.”

  “Are you married or otherwise sexually involved with anyone? Where do you live and what do you do for a living?”

  “No, I wouldn’t have had wild monkey sex with you if I was involved with anyone else. My cute little studio apartment is located in Kent at the Ridgeview Apartments and I’m an executive assistant to an idiot at Langfield Laboratories. But I’m opening up a pet detective agency in a few months.”

  Steve thought, What is a pet detective? “Red, we can talk about you becoming a detective later, when I have more time. Write down your numbers and I’ll call when I can—, maybe tomorrow afternoon.” He grabbed his black canvas bag from the bedroom and got ready to leave.

  “Hey, you drove me here. How am I going to get back to my car at the restaurant?”

  “Do you think your friends are still there? Maybe they can pick you up and drive you back.”

  “No, I’m pretty sure they’ve already gone home. But I’ll find a way back to my car. Can I use your phone? I didn’t bring mine.”

  This was not the way Steve wanted the night to end. “I can have a patrol car come by and give you a lift to the restaurant if you want. They’ll have to do it on their schedule though; you might have to wait awhile.”

  “I’ve always wanted to ride in a cop car. Do you think I can ride in front?”

  Steve knew that was a definite no, but he didn’t want to burst her bubble—he’d let the patrolman do that. He made the phone call and in no time he had a ride set up for Corny. “Here’s a key to my house. Put it under the pot out front when you leave. Give me another kiss before I leave.” Steve rarely left a woman alone in his house, or with his key, but it felt right this time. Kyle pulled up and he reluctantly left a few minutes later.

  “Okay, bye. Please be careful out there.”

  CHAPTER SIX

  Steve called me Sunday afternoon. “Hey Red, it’s been a crazy week. Do you mind if our first real date consists of a lazy day on the couch? I’ll bring pizza, beer, and me— how’s that sound?”

  I wanted to say heaven, but instead I said, “Sounds great. I have a 64-inch Sony TV and a comfy couch. We’re all set.” An hour later we were snuggled under my favorite fleece throw, eating pizza, and watching the Seahawks. What could be better? A couple vigorous romps on my comfy couch and three orgasms, that’s what. Unfortunately, Steve had to leave before we got to the fourth round.

  “Corny, you’re going to be the death of me, but I’ll die a happy man. I’ve been working on an important case, but I think it’s coming to an end. I’ll call you when I can, okay?”

  Because I was on a post-orgasmic high I acknowledged him with a sloppy kiss and he left with a big smile on his face.

  ***

  Kari called Monday to tell me they had extended their honeymoon another week, which meant I had custody of Pete a little longer. Oh joy—not. He was a major prankster and at times hard to control. I didn’t ask him where he went during the day because I didn’t want to know. I told Pete to stop with the tacks and I checked Ralph’s chair when I got in every morning. But every day Ralph screeched like a little girl when he sat. I know I shouldn’t, but I couldn’t help it; I laughed every time. If that was all Pete did to Ralph, then I could live with the daily screech.

  On Thursday, Ralph worked nonstop until after lunch. He came out and grumbled, “I keep finding spelling errors in the meeting minutes. How am I supposed to do my job with an incompetent assistant?”

  I wondered if I was I supposed to answer that. He seemed to get grumpy and yell right before lunch every day. What if Ralph was hypoglycemic and needed to eat on a regular basis? The best test was to give him a snack and see if his mood improved. I forgot to restock the oranges in my drawer. There was a vending machine in the basement and I’d seen apples in it and they were probably nice and ripe by now.

  Pete and I took a quick break and strolled down to the basement. I forwarded the phones to Nancy in Accounting. There. There was the perfect apple. It had probably been in the vending machine since the dawn of time. In fact, I didn’t think anyone had stocked the vending machine in over a year, was probably the reason it was in the basement—not in the cafeteria. Pete insisted it was perfectly fine and it was just an experiment. I left the vending machine behind and stopped by the cafeteria, where I bought a turkey and havarti sandwich for Ralph. It was fun to fantasize about Ralph getting sick though. He was such a bugger.

  When I arrived back, Ralph paced in front of my desk with the ugliest scowl on his face. I sat down, woke up my computer, and asked sweetly, “Is there something wrong Ralph?”

  “I’m trying to run a business here and I can’t to do that if don’t answer the telephones. If you aren’t able to do that simple task, then I’ll get someone who can.”

  He was obviously stressed and needed food. “Here, eat this sandwich. You haven’t had lunch yet.”

  He sto
mped his foot and demanded, “Where were you? I heard the phone ring four different times. People will think we’re out of business if nobody answers the phones.”

  Inwardly I sighed and then calmly explained how the phone system worked. “The phones are answered 24/7. In case you’re not familiar with that term, it means the phones are answered twenty- four hours a day and seven days a week. After hours, there’s a phone service that picks up and I return the calls in the morning. When I go to lunch from noon to one, I forward the phones to Nancy in Accounting.

  Mr. Langfield, do you have any more questions for me because as you can see, I have two calls to return. We wouldn’t want anyone to think I’m not doing my job, now would we?” Pete quietly applauded me.

  Ralph walked away without another word— not even an apology.

  “Man, he was mean to you.”

  “Pete, he’s trying to learn a business and he has no skills. Let’s leave him alone.” I needed to share my day with someone other than Pete. It was time to call the girls.

  CHAPTER SEVEN

  I called Brenda and Kitty knowing they wouldn’t judge me. We set up dinner for 6:15 at Jerry’s Bar and Grill. Jerry’s was located in Pioneer Square and played the Blues four nights a week. The clientele could be a little rough, but nobody ever bothered us.

  At 6:20, I circled the block a second time. Finding a parking spot was tough this time of night. All of a sudden, a prime spot opened a block away from Jerry’s. I pulled my sporty little red Mini Cooper into the spot as another car inched toward it. They honked, but I didn’t care: all’s fair in love and snagging an open parking spot in downtown Seattle.

  Kitty and Brenda already claimed a prime booth and I made my way towards them. Jerry’s was the only establishment where we drank beer, not margaritas. The first time we ordered margaritas the waiter laughed at us. Cheerfully he told us, “Margaritas aren’t our specialty. You should stick to beer.” We took his advice because we’d gone there for the atmosphere, not the alcohol, anyway.