Schmidt Happens (Schmidt Load #2)

by Susan Renee

  Schmidt Happens

  A Novella

  Schmidt-load series Book 2

  Susan Renee

  Schmidt Happens

  Original Copyright © Susan Renee 2017

  All Rights Reserved. In accordance with the U.S. Copyright Act of 1976, the scanning, uploading, and electronic sharing of this book without the permission of the publisher or author constitutes unlawful piracy and theft. For use of any part of this book please contact the Author at authorsusanrenee@gmail.com for written consent.

  This book is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents are the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual events, locales, or persons living or dead, is coincidental.

  Except for the original material written by the author, all songs, and/or song titles mentioned, throughout the novel Schmidt Happens, are the property of the respective songwriters and copyright holders.

  Disclaimer: This book is intended for adult readers only and is not appropriate for minors. There is some language and adult sexual content. This book is just meant to be fun. If you don’t have a sense of humor, you might not [NL1]want to get to know Jack Schmidt.

  Cover art by Samantha Roth of Grothic Designs

  Editing by Nikki Rose

  Formatting by Douglas M. Huston

  Other books by Susan Renee

  You Don’t Know Jack Schmidt – Schmidt Load Series Book 1

  Hole Punched

  Seven

  Solving Us

  To my team of Book Bitches,

  Thank you for your willingness

  to be silly with me,

  and for your help in making

  a ridiculous bunch

  of “Schmidt” titles become an

  entertaining book series.

  I love how much we laugh together.

  You make my life fun.

  Chapter 1

  Jack

  Does it make me a pussy that I caved on the manly-dating thing and hid behind my laptop to meet a woman? It feels that way. Shit, if Jacoby ever finds out I chickened out on finding a girl the old-fashioned way and started seeing a cyber chick, he’ll never let me live it down. Whatever, Mr. Walks-into-a-store-everyday-and-buys-something-just-to-meet-a-girl has no leg to stand on. He didn’t exactly do it the old-fashioned way either. It took him forever to get the balls to finally talk to Jenna, and he does romance for a living for Pete’s sake. His persistence paid off though. Jenna is a great girl and he’s lucky to have her. He deserves to be happy after all these years. I should’ve just asked Jacoby if Jenna had a friend he could hook me up with.

  I glance at the time on my cell phone. It’s seven o’clock. I’m meeting Linda in an hour at The Harp and Hound, one of the Irish pubs in town[NL2]. She mentioned having a prior commitment earlier this afternoon. I’m hoping that’s not code for going out with some other guy first before seeing me, although I suppose I shouldn’t complain. At least if we don’t hit it off we won’t be forced to sit through a meal that neither of us enjoys. It’s just drinks. And if we hit it off, she ends her night with me and not someone else. I don’t see why we wouldn’t have a great time together. Unless her profile is completely fake and she’s not the person she claims to be, then I’m looking forward to laughing with a beautiful girl who has no filter. What could be better?

  “Well, Sampson,” I rub the back of my favorite dog’s ears. “I guess I should go get a shower. It’ll be time to leave before I know it.” Sampson rolls over on top of my bed, clearly insisting that I rub his stomach. He is, by far, the most spoiled dog on the face of the Earth. “What am I going to wear tonight, Sam? Did you pick out something nice for me?”

  Sampson moans and flops over onto his side, ready for his evening nap. “Yeah, what good are you then, buddy?” I smile at him and pet his head before getting up to head to the shower. It’s not until I’m under the warm water that the nerves start to creep up on me. I know I haven’t dedicated a lot of my adult life to building relationships with women. I focused ninety-nine percent of my college time on keeping a perfect grade point average. I owed it to everyone who helped me get to school in the first place. The other one percent was everything Jacoby made me do in my not-so-free time. Now, the law firm keeps me pretty busy, and if I have any hope of making partner someday, my persistence has to continue. I shouldn’t care at all about dating. I could just keep my head down, keep busy and become the most successful lawyer the state of Connecticut has ever seen. Hell, I could move to New York City, find a sweet job, and live out my days as a single guy in the big city.

  No, it’s time. I’ve got to do this. I want to do this. I watched Jacoby court the girl of his dreams and damn if I don’t deserve the same happily ever after. I need someone other than my four-legged furry friend keeping me company at night. I’m a nice guy. I know how to treat people nicely. It’s alright that I don’t have all the dating experience that most normal guys probably have. I think I’ve done fair job of keeping my life’s priorities in check so far. What’s not to like with me? I’m a catch. I think.

  I hope.

  Linda’s profile picture pops into my head as I lather myself in the shower. As long as her picture is actually a fair representation of her - dark auburn hair, beautiful eyes and nose ring you can’t help but notice, then she’s a very pretty girl. I’ve enjoyed getting to know her in the few conversations we’ve had. She seems to have a spunky personality and isn’t afraid to make conversation, so at least I know she isn’t shy. Learning that we both live in the same town allowed us to easily come out from behind our computers and decide to get to know one another in person. There’s just one unknown. It’s the same unknown I have every single time I make plans with a woman.

  Sex.

  I’m a smart guy so I understand that being in my mid-twenties, most girls I meet will probably not be virgins, and that many times, I’m sure, casual dates lead to casual sex. Even though I consider myself a well-grounded man, the fear of not knowing what my date’s going to expect from me at the end of the night eats at me every time. I’ve had my fair share of sexual experiences, for lack of a better word, but none of them have been mind-blowingly spectacular. In fact, some of them have been downright nightmares.

  ***

  I step out of my apartment at the same time that my neighbor from two doors down, Gabby, comes out of her place with who I can only guess is her latest client. I’ve seen so many different men come and go from her apartment, some looking perfectly fine, others a bit disheveled. I sometimes question if she really is a masseuse and not a one-woman brothel. I suppose she could pass as an accountant. That’s it. She’s just doing their taxes.

  In her bathrobe?

  She smiles and winks at me as she pulls her robe tighter. “Hey Jack. Hot date tonight?”

  Gabby and I don’t talk much, but she’s always been friendly any time we’ve been in close proximity to each other. “Hi Gabby. Umm, I’m just meeting a friend tonight over at the Harp and Hound.” I choose not to go into particulars since I really don’t know her very well. After seeing what goes in and comes out of her apartment though, who knows what she’s capable of?

  “Well I hope your night is very…satisfying.” She winks one more time before retreating.

  “Thanks.” I smile. “Umm, see you around, Gabby.” I wave slightly as I turn away from her and head down the steps and out the door to my car.

  Chapter 2

  I pull up to the Harp and Hound at precisely eight o‘clock. Linda told me she would be wearing a purple sweater of some sort so I would know for sure who she was when I got here. I told her I would find her. It’s not like she hasn’t seen my profile picture
, so I’m confident she knows what I look like. I thought about doing something romantic like bringing her a rose or something, but she’s told me in conversation that she hates that Bachelor show so I figured she might take my nice gesture the wrong way. I step inside the bar, trying my best to appear relaxed and calm, though I’m anything but. This is one of my favorite spots in town, so I have no reason to be uncomfortable, except for the part about meeting a beautiful girl for the first time. I don’t see anyone in a purple sweater just yet though, so I nod to a couple of guys I’ve seen in here before and head to the bar for a drink.

  “Hey Mike.” I wave to the bartender. “Guinness on tap tonight?”

  “Evenin’ Jack. Sure is. Coming right up,” he answers.

  “Thanks.”

  “Jack Schmidt?” A perky yet instantly sultry voice comes from behind me. I turn my head and nearly stumble over when I see the stunning girl standing standing before me. Studying the eyes of the nearby men around the bar as well, I can safely assume I’m not the only one who noticed Linda’s arrival.

  She’s standing here in a purple sweater dress, short enough that I wouldn’t want her bending over in front of any other guy but me. Her black boots reach just below her knees and hug tightly to her legs.

  “Your…your hair,” I stutter. “It’s red.”

  Her face scrunches up in front of me but she giggles. “Shit, sorry. Yeah. I got it colored and totally forgot to tell you. Sorry about that.”

  “Don’t be, it’s…”

  She’s stunning.

  “It’s beautiful.”

  She smiles and I instantly smile back. “Thanks,” she says.

  I smile at her, not saying anything for an awkward few seconds before I remember what we’re both here for. “I’m sorry.” I shake my head. “Where are my manners? Uh, what can I get you to drink?”

  She chews on the inside of her mouth as she contemplates what she wants. I can’t help but smile because her face is adorable when she does that. “How about a Corona, with a lime.”

  A girl after my own heart.

  I turn to Mike who nods to me that he already heard her order. He hands me both of our drinks and I turn to follow Linda to a booth in the other section of the restaurant. I watch her body move as she walks across the floor. One day, maybe I’ll be holding her hand and walking confidently with her, knowing that her body and my body have done the cha-cha slide, the booty-scootin’ boogey, the cupid shuffle and the Humpty Dance more times than a man can count.

  Focus Jack.

  To my surprise, Linda picks the back-corner booth, where we are least likely to be disturbed. “Is this okay with you? I don’t know about you,” she says. “But I like to hear people when they talk to me.” Her smile is ornery but gorgeous. I can’t keep my eyes off of her.

  “Yeah. This is perfect.” Like a gentleman, I wait for her to slide in to make sure she’s ok before sliding in on the other side of the table.

  “You really look lovely tonight. Maybe you hear this a lot, but purple really looks great with your hair color.”

  She laughs quietly before thanking me. “You don’t look so bad yourself. I’m really excited to finally be meeting you in person.”

  We both take a sip of our beers and when she puts her glass back on the table she’s smirking at me.

  “What? Do I have something on my face?” I ask her, playfully horrified.

  [NL3]She laughs. “No. I promise, you look great.” She leans forward and rests her arms on the table. “I love the leather jacket. It’s a great look.”

  “Thanks.”

  “I just have a secret, that I swear to God I didn’t know until just a couple hours ago.”

  “A secret?” A million different things float through my head. Something she knows that I don’t know…what could it possibly be?

  Are we somehow related?

  Is she related to my boss?

  God, is she my boss’s daughter?

  “Well, okay, maybe not a secret as much as a confession. It seems that uh…I know a friend of yours and you know a friend of mine.”

  “Oh yeah?” I smile curiously. “Well, I guess it’s a pretty small world out there, and knowing now that we’re both from Mystic, I guess I shouldn’t be surprised. Are you allowed to share your secret, or is it one of those if-you-tell-me-you’ll-have-to-kill-me type of things?”

  “How about if I give you a hint?” she offers. Her excitement is infectious. At least it seems like whatever her secret is, it’s a good one.

  “Okay. Go for it.” I reply, leaning forward matching her position.

  “I told you in our recent conversations that I work in retail,” she starts. “But I never told you where.”

  “Right. And I never asked because I assumed if you wanted me to know, you would’ve told me and I’m kind of glad you didn’t because I might have thought you were ok with creepy stalkers coming into your workplace just to check you out.” I start to chuckle but her eyes narrow just slightly as if I just read her mind.

  Her mouth does that cute sideways thing again before she says, “Why not? Your best friend did it for months before he finally asked her out.”

  Her comment catches me off guard. I watch her sit back against the booth and take a nice gulp of her beer, wiping her mouth off with the back of her hand when she finishes.

  “My best friend?” I ponder. That can only be one person. “Jacoby? You know Jacoby?” I watch her face for a second before I gasp. “No shit. You work at The Hole Punch?”

  She scrunches up her face as she grins. The expression suits her. She’s adorably cute. “Yep. I do. And Jenna Zimmerman is my sister from another mister, so of course I know Jacoby!”

  I know my face is red, so I’m appreciative that it’s night time and this bar is relatively low lit. This way she can’t see the slight embarrassment as I remember my thoughts from earlier today about Jenna having a friend for me. “So how did you just find out about this connection? How has this not come up in the last couple of weeks or so that we’ve been chatting? Don’t you girls share everything with each other? Isn’t that what girls do?”

  Her eyes widen. “Not this time. I…” Her face scrunches again and I can tell she’s not sure what she’s trying to say. “I didn’t want to tell Jenna that…”

  “That you were trying to meet a guy on the internet?” I finish her sentence for her. Her shoulders relax and her head tilts to the side. “Does that sound lame? That sounds really lame, right?” She questions, bashfully.

  “Yeah, it does.” I tease her. “Only lame people look for other lame people on the internet. So at least you can rest assured that you won’t be lame alone. You’ll have me.”

  “Phew. Thank Christ for that,” she answers. “Nobody deserves to be lame and alone at the same time.” She winks. “But seriously, I just didn’t want to mention it to Jenna. My relationships in the past have been pretty casual. I usually just tell her about the sex and move on about my day.” She looks up at me, knowing what she just said and bites her tongue. “I’m sorry. Shit. That was super presumptuous of me, I didn’t mean that…”

  “It’s ok.” I stop her. “I understand.” I force myself to smile even under her implication that this date will lead to casual sex that she’ll talk about tomorrow morning.

  And then she’ll move on.

  Linda takes another swig of her beer. I watch her from across the table. Her look, the way she moves – she seems so well put together but in that I-don’t-care-as-long-as-I’m-comfortable kind of way. She certainly oozes sexy as far as I’m concerned, but I’m not sure I’ll be the type she’s looking for.

  “So, have you known Jacoby long?” she asks.

  “Yeah.” I clear my throat and take another quick drink. “Yeah, since the eighth grade actually. My foster parents were neighbors of his. Jacoby was the first kid to ever come to my door and introduce himself.” I smile endearingly, remembering the scrawny dark-haired kid with the mischievous but desperate look on his face
standing in the doorway to my house. “He asked me to come play the very first day I arrived and we’ve been best friends ever since. I owe him more than he’ll ever realize.”

  I glance across the table at Linda who is staring at me with a perplexed expression, catching me a little off guard. “You’re a foster kid?. Her question smacks me in the face. I didn’t perceive her to be a callous person.

  I nod slowly, watching her. “Yeah. Well, I mean, I was…for a few years. My foster parents adopted me at the start of ninth grade, so technically I was out of the system then.”

  She continues to watch me silently. It’s driving me crazy that she’s not saying anything. It’s damn near pissing me off. “I’m sorry.” My hand slides through my hair in frustration. “Is the fact that I was a foster kid fifteen [NL4]years ago a deal breaker for you or something?”

  “What?” She startles. “Oh, my God, no! No, no, no. I’m sorry. I was just…thinking back to our previous conversations because I don’t think I ever told you.”

  “Told me what?” I ask.

  “That it’s my dream to someday be a foster parent. Actually, what I really want is to have a big enough place and enough money someday to adopt a few children,” she explains.

  Oh. Well, that’s not what I expected at all.

  “What makes you want to do something like that of all things?”

  “I don’t know.” She shrugs. “No, that’s not true. I do know. It’s because of those damn commercials on TV.”

  I frown at her. “I don’t follow.”

  “You know, the ones with the emaciated dogs and the sad Sarah McLachlan music…and then the ones where the kids are picking through garbage in some third world country or they have flies all over them, like they’re cattle waiting to be slaughtered. It breaks my heart every time, but what about the kids right here, in our very own country? What about the kids right here in Connecticut? Why do they have to be pushed into homes with families who only want them for the government stipend and not because these people want to love them? Why are they forced to live like that in our own back yards?”