Klutzy Love

by Sharon Kleve

  I stuck with a nice cold diet Coke and we munched on pretzels and listened to soothing Blues music. All of a sudden, my hunk radar started to bleep—like it did at Chico’s. I glanced around and my eyes landed on a guy who resembled Steve, behind the bar. This guy had a full beard, mustache, and small scar above his right eye, and to top it off, a scary tattoo on his right arm. It was an eagle with an arrow through it. Steve didn’t have any of those, but I recognized those sexy biceps.

  Hmm, what should I do? The Steve look-alike poured beer and hadn’t noticed us yet. Steve could have a twin brother, which might explain the similar sexy arms. “Hey guys, I know this is hard to do, but could you discretely look at the bartender and tell me if you think it could be Steve?”

  Brenda stared right at the bartender for a good thirty seconds, “Steve doesn’t have facial hair, tattoos, or a scar. Why would you think it’s him?” She was not discrete.

  “If for no other reason than my nipples stood to attention the minute I laid eyes on him. Does that make sense?”

  Kitty nodded in agreement. “I agree with Corny. That’s definitely Steve in a cool disguise. Maybe he’s working undercover.”

  Brenda shook her head from side to side and munched on a pretzel. “I’m not convinced it’s him. Tell me more about this nipple reaction thing. I’ve never had it happen to me.”

  I thought about it for a minute. “It starts with a tingling in my arms and the hairs stand straight up and then my nipples come to attention. It only happens when I’m near Steve; it must be him.”

  Brenda finally understood. “Okay, if your nipples recognize him, then it must be him. Should we go say hi?”

  “No, let’s observe for a while. We wouldn’t want to blow his cover.” Wow, I sounded like a detective already.

  ***

  Steve thought he must have the worst luck in the world when Corny arrived with her crazy friends. He hoped he could make his bust and be done with this crappy assignment. She couldn’t possibly have known he’d be there. He’d backtracked several times to make sure he hadn’t left a trail. She tried to hide in the corner booth, but it was obvious she had checked him out. It better be because he looked familiar to her and not because she thought he was hot.

  His undercover assignment was to fill in for the real drug-dealing bartender—skuzzy Bart. Steve arrested him on drug trafficking charges last week. If Bart gave the narcotics unit names, regular drop dates, and times, Steve would ask the prosecutor for a reduction in sentencing. It turned out Bart was a bigger dealer than they thought. He was in County Jail awaiting trial.

  The department thought they should put an undercover cop at the bar to take Bart’s place and fill in until they could bust all the dirt bags. Because Steve’s undercover persona was a tough as nails drug dealer, he got assigned to the operation.

  Bart put the word out to his buyers that ‘Buddy the Bruiser,’ would fill in while he recovered from his car accident. The car crash was legitimate, because while Steve chased Bart down Interstate 5, he crashed into the guardrail and broke his leg. If they checked out Bart’s story, it would hold up.

  Steve’s job was to close Stan McClousky’s operation and get his drugs off the street. Stan distributed to hundreds of guys like Bart. He sold all kinds of drugs and there was always a different drug available. Steve intended to bust Stan’s goons.

  But he’d received a call from a reliable snitch who warned him, “Dude, Stan’s coming in to do the delivery himself. You better be careful man; he never does that.” The little hairs on the back of his neck sprung to life. Steve never ignored those hairs. It was out of character for the top dog to deliver himself. Stan was due in any minute and Steve started to get the feeling that this operation could go sideways real fast.

  In the meantime, he sure hoped Corny wouldn’t recognize him. That would complicate things. He began to think it would take a lifetime to figure her out. Well, his luck had run out because he saw the exact moment Corny figured out who he was. Red and her two friends looked his way several times and then began to argue quietly.

  What happened next, he couldn’t have predicted in a million years. It started in slow motion and then careened out of control. He’d passed a couple hits of X to a pimple-faced punk, when Stan walked in with two goons. When he saw bulges under their coats he knew they had major firepower. There was always the chance that skuzzy-boy Bart got scared and sent word to Stan that it was a set-up. The closer Stan got to the bar the more plausible that seemed because he looked furious. He was two hundred and fifty pounds of pure saturated fat and covered in sweat.

  Why hadn’t he stayed away if he knew it was a set- up? The only thing Steve could come up with was that Stan was just plain nuts. An undercover cop had to be able to think fast on his feet during a crisis. He had an angry drug distributor, who most likely wanted him dead. He had a pimple-faced fool who was about to drop a love potion into a girl’s drink. Steve already had backup ready to bust the stupid kid.

  Then he had Corny who spotted Stan and his goons and obviously figured out the situation, because she grabbed Brenda’s empty beer glass and headed Steve’s way with a determined look on her face.

  He turned his back on all of it, made a gin and tonic, and called for immediate backup. His partner Kyle replied, “Hold down the fort, the cavalry’s on the way.”

  Steve grabbed a bar-rag and moved to the end of the bar where the girl’s drink was drugged. Steve knocked the drink on the girl’s lap before she was able to take a sip. He bent forward to apologize and whispered in her ear, “Pretend to head to the bathroom to get cleaned up. That guy drugged your drink. Stay in the bathroom and I’ll call for an officer to drive you home “ She casually nodded and whispered, “Thank you.”

  The smaller of the two goons pulled a 9mm out of his jacket and motioned for Steve to go through the door to the back room. He stayed cool and asked, “What is this? I can’t leave the bar unattended.”

  The goon had a bad attitude and yelled, “Shut up!”

  Steve got a quick right-fisted jab to his nose and a punch to his gut, as Corny and Kitty flew through the bar door.

  Corny screamed at the top of her lungs like a banshee, “Leave him alone!” She jumped onto the goon’s back and hit him in the head with the empty beer glass. It would’ve been more effective if she’d thrown a beer at him. The guy tried to break Corny’s death grip. He shook her like a wet dog. Then he scurried backwards and slammed her into the concrete wall. Her eyes rolled back in her head, she dropped off and slid to the floor, unconscious.

  Stan headed toward the back hallway. Kitty had hidden behind the pantry door and when he scurried by, she tripped him. He ended up sprawled on his fat belly, with his big ass stuck in the air. She took advantage of Stan’s vulnerability and hit him with 50,000 volts from her stun gun.

  Steve’s backup broke through the door with guns drawn. If they hadn’t pulled him off the guy who hurt Corny, he would’ve mangled him.

  After things settled down he glanced over at the larger goon who stood with his jaw hanging open. The guy looked as though he might laugh at Stan’s predicament, but he put his tough guy look back on. He hadn’t assaulted Steve, but he arrived with a known drug dealer and helped force him into the backroom at gunpoint. He’d let the DA decide whether to file criminal charges or release him.

  The medics told Steve that Stan would survive the stun gun—BUT would be extremely uncomfortable for quite a while. If Corny hadn’t been hurt, he would’ve laughed.

  Corny came to when the medics loaded her into the ambulance, and mumbled, “What happened to me? Why is my head pounding?” Then she saw him and started crying, which made her wince in pain. The medics informed him, “She has a big goose egg on the back of her head. We’re taking her to the hospital to get checked out.”

  “Steve, are you coming to the hospital with me?”
<
br />   “Honey, there isn’t room in the ambulance for both of us. But I’ll be right behind you, okay?”

  Steve’s partner spoke up, “We’ll take care of the paperwork and you can go ahead to the hospital. You can fill in the details later—like why all of those crazy women were involved in your operation. Stan’s going to be charged with the attempted murder of a cop, along with the drug charges. We’ll be able to put him away for a long time. The guy who hurt Corny is being treated for a concussion. We’ll try to get him to roll over on Stan. Hey, all in all it was a good bust. Who’s the girl with the stun gun? She’s pretty hot.”

  “She’s one of Corny’s best friends—stay away from her lover boy. I need to go talk to Kitty and Brenda. I’ll see you later buddy.”

  They sat at the bar drinking coffee. “Hey Kitty and Brenda, are you guys okay? That was pretty good handiwork with the stun gun, but in the future, let the police handle those kinds of things.”

  “I was a little worried because it was low on power, but it worked okay.” Kitty reached into her cavern of a purse for a piece of paper and wrote a reminder to purchase a car charger, then wrote some phone numbers down on another piece of paper. “Here, we’ve already given our personal information to the detective, but you can have it too, in case you want our help again… ha ha.”

  “I hope it doesn’t ever come to that again. Here’s my cell number, and office number, in case you need to get ahold of me. I’m heading over to the hospital to see hard-headed Corny.” Then Steve grimaced at the amount of paperwork he had to fill out because of all his unwanted help.

  “Hey Steve, what’s with that guy over there? The detective said he didn’t assault anybody, but he’s in hand cuffs. What’s your take on him?” Brenda had her eyes on the large goon.

  “He’s a criminal. Stay away from him.”

  “Sure, okay. We’ll see you at the hospital.”

  As he turned to leave Brenda headed toward the goon and Kitty smiled at his partner. Cripes, this was a strange night.

  CHAPTER EIGHT

  On the way to the hospital, Steve decided he needed to have a serious talk with Corny about what happened. He wouldn’t survive Corny getting hurt again. She shouldn’t have rushed to the rescue. That’s what he did for a living.

  One of Corny’s friends must have called her family because the emergency room was filled with all shapes and sizes of Myers. Corny mentioned she had a big family—but wow! He kept his distance; he didn’t wanted to upset them anymore than necessary.

  When Kitty and Brenda showed up, they wanted to introduce him to Corny’s family. Her mom and dad seemed to know who he was, but he was disappointed to find out that she hadn’t mentioned him to her brothers. Was he more serious about her then she was about him? They all wanted to know how she got hurt and how he was involved.

  He was saved when the doctor when came out and announced, “Corny has a concussion and she’ll need to stay the night for observation.”

  Her family shot off questions like crazy. The biggest of her brothers asked, “Do you think she has brain damage?”

  The other brother replied jokingly, “Geez, she was born brain-damaged; how would you know the difference?” They all laughed and a bit of the tension disappeared.

  Steve snuck off to see Corny before her family descended. The hospital staff moved her to a private room for the night. He knocked on the door and heard a faint, “Come in.” He wanted to be tender, but all he could think about was it should’ve never happened. He went over to the bed and gently took her hand. “How are you doing, sweetie?”

  He could tell it took a great effort, but she firmed up her chin and answered, “I’m okay. The mean doctors said I have to stay the night. Can you break me out of this joint?”

  Steve admired her grit. “Corny, I would if I could, but you need to stay the night to make sure the brick wall didn’t do any permanent damage to that cute noggin of yours.” He knew he should wait to ask her why she was at the bar, but the cop in him couldn’t wait. “Honey, what were you doing at Jerry’s Bar and Grill? The place is a dive.”

  “Once in a while, we meet for beers and I guess it was bad timing on our part. It didn’t take me long to recognize you, but we weren’t going to bother you. Maybe flirt a little. After I figured out that it was you and not a sexy look-a-like, I saw those guys arrive and then one of them pulled a gun on you. I couldn’t stand by and let you get shot. I grabbed a bar glass and told Kitty and Brenda to stay put—did they listen? No! When I saw that jerk hit you I saw red and that’s all I can remember. I should have used my ‘when men attack move.’ I’m sleepy; I think I’ll take a little nap.”

  Oh boy, the concussion must have scrambled Corny’s brains. She mumbled on about an attack move. Then her family piled into her room and he told them he’d be back to check on her later. He figured her family would be there for a couple of hours and he needed to go to the station and get caught up on his paperwork. The guys would never let him live this day down. Today would forever be known as the day Sergeant Steve Spears had to have two girls help him apprehend criminals.

  Luckily, Brenda had done as Corny instructed and stayed put in the booth. Brenda told him she would’ve kicked major ass if she’d brought her Colt revolver with her. He went over the whole night in his head and tried to figure out a way he could’ve changed the outcome. Nothing came to mind.

  CHAPTER NINE

  I was ecstatic the doctor released me to go home. Even with all the drugs they pumped into me, the constant beeping from the machines kept me awake.

  My sweet Steve volunteered to drive me home and reassured my mom and dad that he’d take good care of me. If they knew how good he took care of me, they’d never let him near me. He got me comfortable on the couch and gave me magazines to read. He provided me with snacks, which consisted of peanut butter and jelly, spread thinly on saltines. He put them all within my reach. The less I had to move, the better. I know he wanted to talk about what happened. Every time I opened my eyes he looked as though he wanted to question me. I went to the bathroom and splashed water on my face. When I got back I said, “Go ahead and grill me Sergeant Spears.”

  “Why in the world did you go after that guy? He outweighed you by at least a hundred pounds. I’m a trained professional and had backup waiting outside; I was never in any real danger. Every time I think about what you and your friends did, it makes me break out in a cold sweat.”

  “Steve, I have a few unique self-defense skills my brothers showed me at a young age, to protect me from unwanted male attention. And I’m enrolled at The Private Investigation Training Institute. My training will be complete in forty-five days. They’re the only school to offer online training, video, and audio lessons, plus actual hands-on learning experiences with state-of-the-art techniques.”

  “Why are you taking private investigator training?”

  “I’m opening my own pet detective agency. It’s what I’ve always wanted to do. And I’m exceptional at finding animals.”

  “That’s what the county’s animal control system is for.”

  “Steve, what I do is different and it makes me happy to find missing animals.”

  “Listen to me. Your reckless behavior scares the hell out of me. If you become some kind of a pet finder, who knows what kind of situations you’ll find yourself in and I won’t be there to help you.”

  “I won’t need your help. I’ll be fully trained when I graduate.”

  “That type of profession requires self-defense skills and honey, you’re lacking. I refuse to let you start a detective agency. In fact, that’s incredibly stupid and reckless. I won’t date a woman who would purposely put themselves in danger to find lost animals.”

  “It’s my lifelong dream, which I’ve been working toward all my life. They’re not ‘just lost animals,’ they’re pets, and family members
to many people.”

  “No! You will not do it. I can’t support such a ridiculous occupation.”

  “Are you breaking up with me because of my profession?”

  “No, I’m asking you to stay at a job where you won’t get hurt.”

  “I’m sorry, but I can’t. I’m not feeling well; you need to leave before I say something we both might regret.”

  “Why can’t you be reasonable? Besides I can’t leave; I promised your parents I’d take care of you.”

  “Give me the phone and I’ll call my mom and she can come over. I’ll tell her you had to go to work.”

  “Don’t be ridiculous. I’ll stay.”

  “No, give me the phone please.”

  “Fine, here you go.”

  “Hey, Mom, Steve got called in on a special project and has to leave. Do you mind coming over for a little while?”

  “Oh honey, I’ll be right over. Can he stay until I get there?”

  “No, he needs to leave now, but I’ll be fine. I’m going to take a nap.”

  “Okay honey.”

  “My mom is on her way. You can leave now.”

  “Corny, I’ll leave. But you need to think about what happened last night and how it could have turned out differently for you and your friends. You jumped on a guy who had a gun pointed at me. What if he pulled the trigger? What if I got shot, or one of my backup team? A patron or waitress could’ve followed you to the back room and they could have been shot. I had the situation under control when you turned it into an even more chaotic scene. You made a dangerous situation even more dangerous. My head is about to explode Corny. Good bye.”