it Happened Last Wednesday (The Zelda Diaries Book 1)

by Olivia Gaines

  “So, what is he like?”

  “To whom are you referring, Harold?”

  “Scott Berger. I heard he was an enigma. Quiet, reserved, very classy, but odd looking. I hope you got pictures. Did you get pictures, Zelda? Did you get a photo of him with Danny? You know he used to be on the circuit before that Jeff guy got really famous. I hear he is one the great ventriloquists, can throw his voice across the room while he is drinking kind of thing. Did you get any of that? Do you have video?”

  Zelda sat unmoved. Harold did the same thing to her every time she walked back into the office. This time she would let him stew a bit. She was due in Los Angeles tomorrow afternoon and back on Sunday. Monday and Tuesday she intended to sleep all day and be back in the office on Wednesday.

  “Harold, take a breather. Let me iron out the stories, get them sent to editing, and we go from there. I do have some video interviews and a photo of Berger interacting and repairing a doll. Also, I have this great interview with a lady named Persephone India Phillips, who dresses and goes by the name Pip!” she said with excitement in her voice.

  “Berger? You had dinner with him, right?”

  “Yes, I had dinner with him last night,” she told her boss.

  “And?”

  “And what, Harold? I have the interview,” she said. “Working on it now.”

  This was his cue to leave but instead, he took a seat and closed the door. “Zelda, that bill he sent was to shove one in your face, bring you to heel, and show you how powerful he was. Seriously? You were able to get the interview with no problem?”

  “I have the interview. If it makes you feel any better, I had breakfast with him this morning and said goodbye to him before I left. Mr. Berger instructed his personal driver to take me to the airport, so all is well,” she said with a cheesy smile.

  “Okay, if you say so,” Harold said, leaving her office.

  “We are all good,” she told him.

  The moment Harold left her office, she called Scott. At the fourth ring, she was ready to hang up, but he answered the line on the fifth ring.

  “Scott Berger,” he said

  “”Hi there. I made it in safely. I am in the office,” she told him.

  “Glad to hear it,” he told her, quiet on the other end of the line.

  “Talking on the phone is not your thing?”

  “No, not really. I am kind of trying to find a means to discuss that stunt you pulled today,” he said.

  “Excuse me? Stunt?”

  “Yes, Zelda. The audience was filled with my constituents, employees, my sister, and my parents...,” he said.

  Her mouth was wide open as she stared at the glass wall in her office which overlooked the bullpen.

  “Oh, my goodness. I am so embarrassed. I can’t even imagine what your parents must think of me,” she said.

  “My Mom thinks you are a great, smart woman to pick me. My younger sister thought it was fantastically romantic. My oldest sister, who was not there, but heard about it from my niece and nephew who were also in the audience, thinks you are a loose strumpet and a Jezebel,” he said, laughing at the line. Deep laughter rumbled in his chest, remembering the words from Sarah’s mouth over lunch.

  “What did you think about it, Scott?”

  He inhaled slowly exhaling more slowly, looking around while wishing to gain the right words, but he had none. “I didn’t and still don’t know what say about it. Can I ask your train of thought for such a public display?”

  “Last night and this morning, you made me feel like such a sexy, magnificent woman. I thought I had come up short on making you feel like a man. I wanted to show everyone in that room that you are one hell of a man,” she said.

  “Zelda, everyone in the room already knew that,” he said. “What was that really about?”

  The need to lie immediately popped into her head. Lie. Tell him some outrageous story about wanting to kiss him. Instead, she opted to tell the truth.

  “After I left this morning, the thought of some other woman touching you made me kind of jealous. I did it to let all those women know that if they want you, they are going to have to come through me to get to my man,” she said.

  “Your man?”

  Too soon, Zelda. He is going to bolt, you idiot.

  “Yes, the job is yours if you want it,” she told him. “I don’t want to play games and have you guessing about my level of interest. Whatever this is, however it plays out, I am going to go with it. It has been a long time since anything has felt right. Last night, this morning, it all felt right, so instead of getting in my own way and losing time in my own head, I am going to be honest with you. If next month is a bust, then we walk away as friends. However, the role of being my man is yours if you want it.”

  Again, the line was deafeningly quiet.

  “I’ll take it. I will take that title plus any others you want to grant me. What you did to me this morning didn’t make me feel like a man. The way you made love to me this morning made me want to spend all day in bed sucking my thumb and hoping you would come back to give me some more if I was a good little man,” he told her.

  “So you aren’t mad at me for outing us and putting you on the spot?” The grin went from ear to ear as she listened to the deep timber of his voice in the line. Images of them together, the thick fur on his chest rubbing against her breast made her blush.

  “No. It was inappropriate and charming, and yeah, I felt like Billy Badass on that stage. I even scored some new business since I am so ‘progressive,’ I think the man said,” Scott told her. “However, I didn’t get to kiss you properly out of fear my body would, well, you know.”

  “Yes, Lawd, I do,” she said with a chuckle. “I will take care of all of you next month on the 17th.”

  “You have the day off?”

  “No, but I have some vacation and comp time. We will make it work,” she said.

  He was quiet again. From what she had seen and learned in two days, giving him time to form his thoughts was mandatory. In the past, she’d always filled the dead spaces with too much chatter. “Quiet yourself, child,” her mother would always tell her.

  “Zelda, how often do you want your man to call you between now and my arrival next month?”

  “Surprise me,” she said.

  “That I can do,” he said. “Have a wonderful evening.”

  “You too,” she said. Looking up watching a large bouquet of flowers which were floating down the hallway. Hmm, someone is getting flowers. The pair of legs carrying the large arrangement stopped at Harold’s office. The jean-clad legs turned, walking slowly, making a beeline for her, and then stopping in front of her door.

  “Delivery for Zelda Fitzsimmons,” the pair of legs said through the glass.

  Surprised, she stood to accept the fragrant bouquet which had set the sender back a pretty penny. The colors were amazing, the arrangement was ...spectacular. Zelda grabbed the card. It was from Scott.

  It read, “One pleasant surprise deserves another. Spectacular! Scott”

  My man.

  He agreed.

  I put it out there like an idiot and he agreed.

  Oh thank you, Jesus. I am no longer single. At least not for a while anyway.

  “Scott Berger,” she spoke softly. She thumbed through the photos on her camera. The last photos she took of him. He’d been aware of the camera. The look on his face said as much as she took several of him, staring directly into the camera.

  The glasses were off. He was looking at her the way a man looks at a steak. That photo she would have to hide from anyone else’s eyes. This image was for her alone.

  “Oh my,” she said. “He is rather sexy in a different kind of way.” Scott Berger was so unattractive that he was handsome. He was also hers. A long distance relationship had begun.

  “Now to go home and tell my brother to expect a house guest next month,” she said, frowning. Maybe she could soften the blow to Michael.

  Chapter 12


  Friday Morning

  Zelda found herself down the rabbit hole at the office, not arriving home until after ten. Her brother worked from six am until 2 pm. He’d worked those hours since he was twenty years old for the same company which employed him now. Those hours allowed him to be home in the afternoons and free to take her to gymnastics and later to cheerleading and to ensure no boys were sneaking in and out of their home.

  Michael Fitzsimmons was Zelda’s everything.

  He was the role model of how a man should treat her.

  Her brother was the gold standard for conversations with a man. If a man couldn’t hold a conversation with her, she didn’t have time for him. Michael had taught her well about men. She’d just never listened until now. After her last fiasco of a relationship, she sat crying into her cocoa as he added cautionary markers for her next choice.

  “Maybe it’s time for you to date something...different,” Michael said. “I look forward to walking you down the aisle and placing your hand into a man’s hand that I can trust and respect.”

  Oh, Scott is definitely different. The thing which she loved and respected most about her brother was that he was her big brother. He never tried to be her father or her parent. He took his role as big brother seriously. Somehow over the years, he’d managed to keep the house, pay the bills, get them both through college, and never miss a dinner.

  The first two years after their parent’s death were rough on them both. Family members wanted to step in, take charge, and tell them how to live, but Michael would not hear of it.

  “Our father left me specific instructions on what to do in case something happened to them. I have this under control,” he told his Grandmother.

  Using the sizable life insurance policies, he paid off the mortgage and vehicles. Their mother’s car was maintained and kept in the garage until Zelda turned 16. To this day, she still drove her mother’s Honda; although the motor and transmission had been rebuilt, the seats were redone, and a new sound system put in, the car ran like a dream.

  Michael had done right by her. She, in turn, was never a problem for him. At 14, she was cooking Sunday dinners like a pro, taking care of the house, doing laundry, mopping, and cleaning just as her mother taught her. Her brother took care of the bills and lawn and maintained the house.

  It was a good arrangement. She never crossed the line and seldom, if ever, had a house guest. That was the one area she wasn’t comfortable to be in front of her brother. But Scott was coming. As soon as he stepped inside the house, she would be as well. Loudly. Orgasmically happy. In her bed happy.

  She didn’t want to be in a hotel.

  She wanted him in her home, on her couch, sharing her favorite bowl filled with popcorn dusted with cheddar cheese powder. An image of him sprawled out on the king-size bed in his hotel room flashed. Her cheeks reddened.

  “What’s his name, little sister?” Michael asked, jolting her from her thoughts.

  “Scott,” she said, blushing furiously as she held her coffee cup.

  “When do I get to meet this Scott?”

  “Next month, here,” she said pausing. “He is going to spend a few days here with me.”

  Michael turned to face her, the expression on his face bordering on shock, confusion, and concern.

  “You are going to really like him, Mike. He is something different. I went for something different and I really like this man,” she told him.

  “Okay,” he said. “I look forward to meeting him.”

  “Good,” she said, hugging him tight,

  “Wow! A hug before your second cup of coffee and a large dose of sugar and protein. Who is this man?” Michael asked.

  “That’s the thing, Mike. It is so flippin’ random, yet fantastic at the same time. You know what he likes to call me? Spectacular!” she said, scrunching her nose and grinning.

  He stood still by the sink, frozen in the moment.

  His sister had lousy taste in men.

  He’d seen her in love.

  Heartbroken.

  In lust.

  Yet, this was something new that he’d never seen from her before.

  “Interesting,” he said.

  “He is. He is very interesting. Different. Strong. Lots of muscles,” then she frowned. “Hairy. He is also very hairy, but I’m digging it.”

  “Stop right there,” Michael told her. “Changing the subject, changing lanes, changing the mood of the room. What is on your agenda this weekend?”

  “I’m headed out to Los Angeles until Sunday. I am off Monday and Tuesday, back in the office on Wednesday, then I’m not traveling for a few weeks,” she said. The summer season was when most of the conventions kicked off. Most of September she usually lived in Las Vegas.

  Michael’s thoughts followed hers as well.

  “Is this Scott okay with all of this traveling you do?”

  “He travels a great deal as well, so maybe we can find a happy medium,” she said.

  “Hmmph,” Michael said. “I’m off to work. Will you be back in time for Sunday dinner?”

  “Yep, and it’s your turn to cook,” she said.

  “Screw that. We are having dinner with Grandma!” he said, grabbing his lunch bag and stepping out the back door to the garage. Michael had a newer, nicer vehicle that he reserved for dates and special occasions, but his everyday vehicle was still their father’s old 1972, two-tone F100.

  “Be safe, I will see you Sunday,” he told her, blowing an air kiss that she grabbed from mid-air. The airy kiss she stuck to her cheek with closed fingers and she kissed her fingers on her right hand, blowing the impression into the air.

  It worked for them.

  Grandma Lula thought it was weird.

  Hell, Grandma Lula thought she was weird.

  It didn’t matter to her. She had a new man. A hairy new man named Scott.

  “Lord, hold my hand and order my steps,” she said as she went to her room to complete her packing. This was new territory, but she would take it as it came.

  The weekend sped by with no significant moments to capture at the conference in Los Angeles. It was another conference, another room full of weirdos, strange characters and people who lived for the once a year gathering of their like-minded kind. Tonight was the first night, followed by one more evening of sideways conversations in the hotel bar followed by themed events and last minute hook-ups before hobbyists headed home to lonely spouses who made ridiculous sacrifices so their loved one could get there.

  She imagined a lonely wife at home on the couch doing her own pedicure because her husband needed all the extra money to have a leather vest made for his cosplaying. A woman dressed as a seldom featured Marvel hero walked by, her ass cheeks too large for the small pants which housed her assets. A guy with a raging boner made himself known to her as hand-in-hand they made it to the elevator, hot and ready for each other.

  For the first time in many years, Zelda was bored by it all. I am ready for something different. I need something different.

  Scott called her every other evening right before bed to wish her sweet dreams. She in turned called him on alternate mornings to wish him a good day. After a week, the pattern was set.

  My man.

  The relationship was starting. Where it was going she was uncertain, but on Tuesday night as she sat on her couch, a bowl of popcorn lightly dusted in cheddar cheese powder in her lap, Jinny and Margo, her best friends stopped by.

  Margo, full glass of wine in hand started, “Girl, we haven’t seen nor heard from you in almost a week. What are...stop the presses! What is that on your neck?”

  Jinny bounded to her feet, inspecting the faint remnant of the huge passion mark Scott had left on her neck. A week later, the hematoma had subsided somewhat, but on her fair skin, the dark mark was still faint. She didn’t even need to pretend like she didn’t know what they were talking about.

  “Girl,” Margo started. “Who you letting suck on your neck? My Mama always said you let a man suck on your
neck, what else are you two sucking on?”

  “Your mother is a closet freak,” Zelda told her.

  “My Mama is an open freak,” Jinny corrected her long-time friend. “However, don’t change the subject, Zelda. Who is this new man, and what is the story about your neck and the one I see on your chest. Is that some kind of rash?”

  Zelda set down the bowl of popcorn. She didn’t know how much she wanted to tell them at this early point, but that good feeling was still with her a week later about her new man.

  “His name is Scott,” she said, smiling both on the inside and the outside. She bit her bottom lip, thinking of all the little moments which happened last week. The bar. Breaking Danny’s nose. Breakfast, dinner, and the dancing in the hotel lounge. The sex.

  The amazing, mind blowing, womb shattering sex.

  Her acrobatic, gymnastic infused dick ride the morning of her departure came to mind as well. The throwback scene to Mahogany as she walked through the crowd to get on stage to claim her man publicly and kiss him for all to see.

  Jinny pushed her shoulder. She said to Zelda, “Stop holding out! Tell us about this Scott dude, but first, start with that hickey on your neck.”

  “This?” Zelda said, placing her hand over the exact spot which got warm each time she thought of her man. “This...well, it happened last Wednesday.”

  - Fin -

  A Note from Olivia

  Thank you for reading the first entry in the Zelda Diaries. I am doing something a bit different with this story, spreading it out some, so we can really get the feel and the process of Zelda and Scott falling in love. I don’t want to write it in six chapters and bam, they are in love.

  You have two very damaged people. Both are damaged in different ways, but you will witness them healing as they grow in love.

  The relationship takes place and evolves in seven phases, each one chronicled in her diaries.

  It Happened Last Wednesday is the first installment.

  Join me soon as we look at the next entry with Scott and Zelda’s Tantalizing Tuesday.