by Romes, Jan
“Those things with a hump and a tail.”
“I know what an armadillo is.”
Trish lifted a shoulder. “On my way here, I called him everything I can’t say in public. Now I’m resorting to animal names.”
Their waiter smiled at the strange conversation he walked into when he brought their order. He chuckled and walked away after Trish gave him a toothy grin.
Stella gripped the coffee cup like it was deliverance.
“You have your mood-potion, now start yapping.”
Before Stella unfurled the days’ chaos, she mentioned yesterday’s floozy disaster. “I looked like a hooker, Trish.”
Trish tapped the side of her glass. “Did Alex notice?
“He could’ve cared less. Besides, the clothes weren’t for him. I needed something to wear since I spent the night.”
“Keep telling yourself that.” Trish licked some salt from her margarita glass. “Are you sure he had a pulse?”
“I didn’t check for a pulse. I was too busy spilling coffee and falling into him.” She also mentioned his eye-rolling reaction.
Trish knitted her brows together. “The bastard.”
Stella chuckled. “So much for not cussing in public.”
“You gave him an opportunity to cop a feel and he rolls his eyes? Double bastard.”
“Yes, he’s a bastard, but I didn’t trip into him so he could cop a feel.”
Trish bobbed her head up and down with animation. “You tripped to make him notice you.”
“Whatever.” Stella took another hit of coffee. “I finally got my interview for the promotion.”
“And?”
“Maggie seemed a little chilly after I answered her last question.” Stella winced. “I mentioned the raise in pay.”
“What’s wrong with mentioning money? After all, isn’t that what you’re there for?”
“I should’ve waited for her to bring it up.” Stella shared the boring particulars while Trish slurped the last of her margarita.
Trish looked thoughtful. “I don’t trust that woman. Something about her makes me want to stick my leg out to trip her when she walks by.”
It was hard to be serious with Trish around. Stella shook her head and downed the rest of her coffee. “I went back into chat last night.”
Trish laid a tortilla chip heaping with salsa on her napkin. “You just now remembered?”
“I guess I was preoccupied with other things.”
“Mmm-hmm.” Trish cocked an eyebrow. “Spill it, sister.”
Stella snickered and gave a quiet accounting of the conversation between her and Mr. Right. “He’s incredible, Trish. Easy to talk to. Smart. Funny.”
Trish’s hazel eyes sparkled with supposition. “He could be the one.”
It was a ludicrous concept, and Stella wouldn’t allow herself the fantasy. “Probably not. He said the only thing he’s looking for is friendship.”
* * * *
Alex scooted onto the bar stool next to Jett Morgan.
“I see you got my message.” Jett chugged a healthy swallow of beer.
“It sounded important. What’s going on?” Alex motioned to the bartender. “A shot of tequila. Better make it two.”
Jett chuckled but there was little mirth attached to it. “Bad day?”
“The day from hell.” Alex slung the first shot to the back of his throat. He was in the mood to breathe fire so the burn didn’t affect him. He needed a whole freaking bottle of tequila, not just a couple of shots. The second he’d stepped into Maggie’s office everything went downhill. She made small talk about snow skiing and for some reason found ways to touch him. A hand to his hand. She nudged him with her shoulder. She brought the tip of her shoe to his. Some people were touchy-feely, he got that, but the work place dictated restraint. Of course, he wouldn’t nark her out, but he sure as hell wouldn’t let it happen again. He’d met Stella’s disapproving eyes and Corrine’s sneer when he left Maggie’s office. Before he could address their unspoken accusations, his phone rang. Just what he didn’t need – a forty-five minute phone conversation with his stepdad who wanted him to quit the lingerie company to come to work for his investment firm. He’d heard it all before. Alex had entertained the idea, but still wasn’t sold on the idea of working with family. And he was bullheaded enough not to cave to pressure from anyone. His stepdad wanted him to make the change right now and hung up in a huff when Alex said “Someday.” To finish him off, he found a perfumed note from Belinda tucked in his coat pocket. She wanted to meet up with him tonight at Magda’s Grill and Bar. Not in this lifetime! Alex tossed back the second shot and put his hand up to get the bartender’s attention again.
Jett slapped him on the shoulder. “Hate to say it, but your day is about to get worse.”
Chapter Six
Stella’s fingers rushed across the keyboard. The haste produced an error message. “Password unrecognized. Pfft. Why don’t they just say ‘slow down, eager beaver’?” She scooted to the edge of the chair when her name popped in the users-list.
Mr. Right had sent an email asking her to join him in chat around nine. She glanced at the corner of her screen. Ack. It was already ten. If her mother hadn’t called at eight forty-five to discuss Aunt Ruth’s foot surgery, she would’ve made it on time. Her mom walked her through every lurid detail; including how much anesthetic it took to make her aunt barf.
RedHairedHoney greeted her right away. “Good to c u, Blonde1.”
Finally. A conversation not involving feet. “Good to see you too, RedHairedHoney.”
“Please, call me Red. By the way, a certain someone’s been asking for you.”
Warmth rushed over Stella. “Who was it?” She knew the answer but wanted to make sure.
“You know who.” Red added a smiley face to the end of the text, while a real one stretched across Stella’s face.
“Thanks, Red.”
“Happy to help.” Red went on to say, “Love is popping up all over the place. TorontoTim found a honey. CherryFlava staked her claimed on someone. You and Mr. Right are hitting it off. Can’t wait to see how everything shakes out at Key West. You are going, right?”
She and Mr. Right were acres away from hitting it off. Besides, he made it clear he just wanted friendship. It was doubtful either of them would go to the Meet and Greet, but Stella asked for a reminder on the date.
“We leave the day after Christmas and return New Year’s Day.”
The cogs were turning. The only day she was obligated during the holidays was Christmas Day with her parents. And she was in dire need of a break from the rat race. “I’ll think about it, Red.”
Mr. Right logged in.
Red hurried with a hello. “Welcome, Your Hotness.”
Seeing his name set off a charge of excitement through Stella. She could only imagine what meeting him in person would do.
“LOL, Red. Nice to see you too,” Mr. Right responded.
“Stella, talk Mr. Right into going to Key West. We’ll have a blast.”
Mr. Right sent a private message to Stella. “Howdy, friend.”
Stella smirked at the subtle reminder. “Hey…buddy.”
“How was your day?”
Only one word came to mind. “Weird.”
“At least yours was weird. Mine bordered on bizarre. You go first.”
It was good to have someone to talk to once she was home with her shoes kicked off; a cozy feeling she could get used to. “Bizarre trumps weird any day. Fill me in.”
“Okay. But fair warning, my language might get a little…colorful.”
“I’m a big girl. Now start talking.”
“Bossy. I like it. Ha. Ha. Speaking of bosses, I’m getting some strange vibes from mine.”
“How so?”
“She’s being a little too friendly if you get my drift. But I don’t think it’s me she’s after. I know that doesn’t make sense.”
Stella made a face. “Using you to get to someone else?”<
br />
“Yeah. I’m tickled as hell that she’s not after me. If she thinks she can get to Mr. X by being chummy to me, she’s delusional.”
“LOL at Mr. X. Sounds like an office thriller.”
“More like office chaos. She’s creating an environment of distrust.”
Stella pulled a Corrine and attempted to lighten things up. “Or…your boss thinks you’re so cute she can’t help herself.”
“Guys are not cute.”
“What are you then?”
“Somewhere between okay and a stud. Ha. Ha. But enough about me and my day. Let’s hear about yours.”
“I said weird? I meant boring. I spent the day trying to figure people out. Big waste of time. Just when you think you’ve got them nailed, they do something that shocks the heck out of you, and you have to go back to square one.”
“Care to elaborate?”
“Not really.” Her insecurities would come through loud and clear, and he didn’t need to be privy to them yet. “Let’s talk about Christmas?”
“Believe it or not, I’m not one of those guys who wait until the day before Christmas to shop. I’m almost done. I could use your opinion on some gifts though. My stepbrothers are getting a renewal on their golf memberships. Diamond earrings for my mom. A gold necklace for my stepsister that she’ll go gaga over. But I have no idea what to get my stepdad. He has everything he could ever want and then some.”
Talking to Mr. Right was so easy Stella almost forgot they were in a chat room. Since they’d defined themselves as friends, it took the pressure off and most of the barricades fell away. Stella said the golf memberships were a good idea and that jewelry was sure to make his sister happy. “Does your dad hunt, fish, or hike?”
“None of the above. He has his own business and thinks the place will fall apart if he’s not there. The man is almost sixty-five and has only taken a handful of vacations in his entire life.”
“You should buy him something to help him relax. A bike. A massage package. Actually, buy it for two. A tandem bike. A couple’s massage. A cruise to the Caribbean. And then your mom can have some fun too.”
“I like the idea of a tandem bike. Hell, I like all three ideas. Thanks, Blonde1.”
“Happy to help. I’m getting my dad some woodworking tools and my mom a GPS. She lets the city traffic intimidate her and gets off on the wrong exit a lot. She’s a small-town gal through and through.” What possessed her to add, “You’d love her” was beyond logic.
“I’d love to meet her.”
Stella shifted in her seat. “Pssst. You haven’t met me yet.”
“Technicality.”
The thought of meeting Mr. Right in person made her pleasantly nervous…and strangely warm…all over. Stella shuffled to the kitchen for a glass of water. With her mind on the conversation instead of the faucet, she managed to get more water on her than in the glass. “Sweet.”
Stella bent over the computer chair, typed with one hand and blotted her shirt with a towel. “Be right back. I just drenched my t-shirt.”
“Mmm. Wet t-shirts.”
Stella laughed but a rush of pleasure made her warm all over. Mr. Right was unknowingly edging them out of friend-territory. Or maybe he knew exactly what he was doing. “Sorry to blitz the vision, but there’s nothing Mmm about this ratty old shirt, wet or otherwise. It’s two sizes too big and fraying at the neckline.”
“Sorry. Can’t help it. Every time I see your name in the users list I get excited. Add in a wet t-shirt and my mind goes crazy.”
“Same thing happens to me.” Gah! She didn’t just type that, did she? “I mean, I’m happy to see your name in the users-list.”
“Wonder what would happen if we met in person?”
Tingles continued to race through Stella. She stared at the screen. This felt like flirting. Hmm. Friends didn’t flirt.
He must’ve remembered that same thing. “Didn’t mean to get carried away. Let’s talk about something a little less exciting like gas prices. Ha. Ha.”
“Good idea.”
After a fifteen minute discussion about oil companies, they turned to global warming. Mr. Right thought the changing weather patterns was cyclical. Stella argued that greenhouse gases would be the earth’s demise.
Mr. Right took them to religion, which could’ve caused a parting of the ways. They discussed doctrines and admitted the parts they firmly believed in and the ones they didn’t.
“Wow,” he said. “I’ve never met anyone I could talk with like that, especially without getting into a pissing-match. Wouldn’t it have been great to do it face to face?”
“Definitely,” Stella agreed. “This way I could’ve poked you in the ribs for the comment about the polar ice caps.”
“I need something to drink. All this talking has made me thirsty. Back in five,” he said.
Stella took note of the time and yelped. It was just after two in the morning. They’d been chatting for a little over four hours.
Another cup of coffee sounded good; since it was so late, she opted for chamomile tea instead.
With her cup of tea and a handful of red grapes, she hurried back. “I’m here.” If they didn’t wrap things up soon she could forget about sleep altogether.
“I could talk to you all night,” he said, as though he’d heard her last thought.
Lethargy made her yawn. At the same time, a smile jockeyed for position. “I love talking to you.”
“You’re incredible, Blonde1.”
His words felt like a tender embrace. Stella limited her response to “Thanks”.
“There’s something I need to ask you.”
Stella’s mind went down a steamy path, but when he asked if he could cook for her sometime soon, she laughed. “That would be great. I’ll bring the salad.”
“Do you prefer your wine sweet or dry?”
“Sweet, definitely. But if I had a choice between coffee and wine, coffee would win hands down. I’m addicted.”
“Me too. I guess the next question is when?”
“We’ll get around to it.” Good thing he didn’t try to lure her with cookie dough ice cream or she’d be out of the chair and in her coat before he could type LOL.
“A glimmer of hope,” he said.
Stella watched the clock change to two-thirty. “I have to go.”
“Do you have to work in the morning?”
She could hardly keep her eyes open, so she stretched her hands and arms above her head to get the blood flowing again. “I promised my mom and sister I’d go Christmas shopping with them very early.”
“I was hoping we could make this an all-nighter.”
Stella smiled sleepily. She hadn’t pulled an all-nighter since college. “Too late to reschedule the shopping expedition. Rain check?”
“Definitely. One last thing, can I ask your name?”
Stella’s sleep-weary eyes popped open. “It’s Blonde1.”
“Dodger,” he teased. “When you’re ready you’ll hand it over. Goodnight, Doll.”
* * * *
This was unquestionably one of the strangest yet most exciting nights she’d ever spent. Every happy inch of her hummed its way to the bedroom. When she got there, she realized she was down to her underwear and t-shirt. Talking to Mr. Right had turned her into a blast furnace, and she’d subconsciously removed a few things. “Hmm.” Mere words had her down to basics.
The grandfather clock at the end of the hall chimed. Stella dove under the covers and closed her eyes but her overtired brain wouldn’t shut down. She’d spent a great night with a sweet guy who seemed genuinely interested in what she had to say. They’d gotten cozy and a small part of her wished she would’ve shared her name. It was silly not to. Besides, she was curious about his name too.
Was he a Barrett? Or Ty? Maybe Derek? The name Alex strolled through her thoughts and she groaned into her pillow. “Argh!” She pulled the covers over her head to block him out. When that didn’t work, she tried overriding him by thi
nking about global warming again. Unfortunately, his pull was stronger than greenhouse gases.
For some reason, her subconscious wanted him there. But she was dogged-determined not to shove Mr. Right aside.
Since her thoughts were now bogged down by two men, she compared them. Alex was charming but intense. Mr. Right was charming too, but more laid-back.
Mr. Right led the way in the niceness category because he wouldn’t resort to eye rolling if she had a clumsy moment. Alex, on the other hand, had already shown his colors.
In the looks department, Alex might possibly have a leg-up. She had no way of knowing so she put them even on the hotness-scale.
Weighing one against the other was about as practical as running in stilettos. Exciting and sexy, but not realistic; especially since she could barely walk in them.
Stella exhaled so loud the sound bounced around the room. Mr. Right was an illusion who wanted to be friends. Alex was nothing more than a crush that according to Corrine was up to no good.
* * * *
Alex turned out the light on the nightstand and thought about the in-depth conversation with Blonde1. She was amazingly deep in her convictions. And he liked the friendly sparring when their opinions differed.
He snickered into his pillow. The tequila he’d had earlier with Jett loosened him up, man did it. He caught himself before he asked Blonde1 what she was wearing. Alcohol and chat rooms weren’t necessarily a good thing. Blonde1 got his blood pumping without alcohol; with it, look out. Maybe it was the obscurity of being online that made it exciting. Or maybe she was the intelligent, sexy woman he’d been waiting for. He tried to picture her. Of course, she was blonde. Dark blonde or light? Maybe a bottle-blonde. After talking to her tonight, he wanted more information. Was her hair short or long? Color of eyes? Tall or petite? Meaty or thin? Bypassing the last question might be a good idea.
She liked sports. Was she was athletic? What did she do when she wasn’t working or chatting online?
Ugh. Work. Thinking about the lingerie company made him scowl in the darkness. The job was becoming more awkward by the day due to certain behaviors.