by Misty Simon
Oh, boy. I knew that was coming. I hadn’t said much up until this point, and I seriously considered continuing to keep my mouth shut. What would I gain by saying anything now? I certainly wouldn’t be turning her down or turning her away. And actually saying the word “yes” threatened to give me hives.
“We should call Caro,” she said.
It was the most logical thing she’d said so far. Maybe I could get Caro to take her off my hands for a little bit and give me some quality ball time.
“Sure,” I said, picking up my cell and dialing. “I’ll just call Caro and see what she’s up to. Maybe she’ll be up to taking you…taking you out tonight.” I hoped she hadn’t noticed my hesitation, but I’d barely stopped myself from suggesting she just go stay at Caro’s for the next few days.
If anything, I knew Caro was good for at least a few hours. Phoebe had grown up in a different town, but Caro had been at plenty of family stuff, and I was sure she’d love fresh meat to take out on the town. I was old news around here, and Phoebe could draw in more men than I ever could. Ha, ha. Wouldn’t Caro love that?
She picked up on the third ring. “Yep.”
“I’m so glad you agreed without me having to pose the question.”
“And what did I agree to?”
“You’re going to come and take Phoebe out for a little while so I can get some work done.”
The object of our conversation had started circling the living room. I got up to casually stand in front of the cabinet holding all of my supplies. “Alrighty then, Phoebe will be ready in about thirty minutes. We’ll see you then. Thanks.” I hung up before Caro could say anything else.
I headed over to Phoebe and steered her into the bathroom. It might take longer than thirty minutes to repair the damage, but it had to be done. Caro would never take Phoebe out like this, and Phoebe wouldn’t want to be seen in this state anyway.
I left her in there for a few minutes and put a lock on my cabinet. I also looked in my guest bedroom and cringed at the mess. I guess I was going to have to clean this mess out so she could sleep here tonight. There went my free time.
I was surprised, though, when Phoebe came in from the bathroom and started helping me. Normally she was a lot more self-centered than that.
“So I hope this will be comfortable for you.”
“I’m sure it’ll be fine.” She helped pull a fitted sheet onto the queen-size bed. “I really do appreciate this, Danner.”
Tears glistened on her lashes again, so I quickly changed the subject. “Mom will be happy to see you. I bet she’ll want to go out to lunch or something.”
A hesitant smile popped up on her lips. “That would be nice.” She smoothed the covers. “I think I’ll have fun tonight with Caro, too. Are you coming?”
“Oh, man, I wish I could, but I have some work stuff to take care of.” I resisted snapping my fingers in an “aw, shucks” move. I didn’t want to go for overkill. So I just said, “I’ll catch up with you all later, if I can.”
She threaded her arm through mine. “That would be great. I sure hope you can.”
“Yeah, me, too,” I said just as knocking sounded on the door. Caro to the rescue.
I threw open the door again, even though that hadn’t worked so well for me in the recent past. I dragged Caro in by her designer purse, hugged her, and whispered a quick “thank you” in her ear before handing over Phoebe.
Chapter Seven
Toby hovered over me, his biceps bulging and flexing, his nipples mere inches from my eyeballs. Shirtless, he was magnificent, his pecs firm and mouthwatering, his arms bulging. Even the hair in his armpits looked silky and good enough to nuzzle (as long as he’d had a shower, of course). He had enough chest hair to tweak but not enough to smother me. In a word, he was perfect.
And the things he was doing with his pelvis down below stoked my fire. He rhythmically bumped against me, firmly ensconced between my quivering thighs. I wrapped my legs around his bare waist to provide better access and smiled, pleased with my ingenuity. He smiled, too, his perfect white teeth straight and beautiful as little lines formed at the side of his mouth. He leaned down to whisper naughty (very naughty) things in my ear that made me blush all the way down to my curling toes.
“I want you, Mort,” he said in that oh-so-sexy voice. I think my ankles curled, joining my toes.
“I want you, too, but let’s stop talking and start doing. There are other, better things you could be doing with your mouth.” Cheeky, that’s me.
He chuckled, the sound reverberating through my nether regions, heating me up like nothing else in the world.
And then he kissed me—sliming all over my face and licking me like a Saint Bernard. When I tried to wriggle away from him, he locked one big hand around my crossed ankles at his back and went in for another kiss. I screamed bloody murder.
And sat straight up on the couch.
Apparently, I’d taken a little unscheduled nap after seeing Mr. Herkowitz with his payroll records and box of mangled receipts and dealing with Phoebe and her hysterics.
After I came fully awake, a little feverish and definitely sick to my stomach, I got some quality oil time in, since I couldn’t do it with Phoebe around.
Why did she have to come now? Just when I thought I might have a handle on my medium, I was interrupted. Dang. Now my time was going to be limited to third-quarter stuff. My appointment schedule was completely full, and all my free time would be eaten up by Phoebe.
I concentrated on the oils again and tried my hardest to block images of Toby from my mind. Phoebe wouldn’t be back for a while, if I knew Caro. I would just forget that the little kissing episode ever happened, and the nasty dream with it. I couldn’t be losing my fantasy lover!
Somehow I would figure out a way to go back to daydreaming about what it would be like to have him kiss me. What it would be like to have his feather-light touch run along the curve of my jaw instead of his cold fingers grasping at my head and his tongue trying to slither into my mouth.
Okay, that wasn’t working. I ate some chips straight from the bag. They were what I had ended up having for lunch, since earlier I couldn’t stand real food in my stomach and didn’t want to spend good money on a lunch I wouldn’t eat.
Why, oh, why, did he have to go and ruin my perfectly good dream world? Damn him and his slimy lips.
Night was falling when I finally got all my supplies into the cabinet. I still had so much from my other attempts that I was running out of room in there. I might have to think about clearing out another cabinet to fill. I’d already had to clean out my guest bedroom. It occurred to me I could get rid of some of the supplies that didn’t work for me, but I just couldn’t let go.
I thought about what to have for dinner as I used a rag to clean off the front of the cabinet. I wasn’t much of a duster, but I did keep this clean, at least. I called Caro to make sure they weren’t coming back before dinner.
The sound of laughter nearly overrode our conversation. But the important parts were covered, and I knew Phoebe wouldn’t be back from the diner across town for at least two more hours. Phew!
After that drunken haze where Arrol ate all of my cold pizza, I had thought about ordering some more, but now I wouldn’t need to do that. I sighed. Part of me actually had wanted Arrol to be real and for the ball to talk to me. If nothing else, it would have livened up my life a little.
Although I did have some livening up with my cousin here now. Not exactly what I’d had in mind. How could I tell her to leave, though? No, I’d have to stick it out, as much as it sucked. It was something—not much, but still something. Not Arrol or a talking ball excitement…
But I wasn’t much of a daydreamer (other than when it came to Toby, but don’t hold that against me, since I didn’t have that anymore either). I was much more of a realist. I had to be, early on, and it was so ingrained at this point there was no getting it out. Painting was my attempt to be more spontaneous and playful. Hell, I’d spent tons
of money on doing just that. But when it came down to it, I figured there would always be a part that was the little kid who had to fend for herself.
Not that I was bitter or anything. I wouldn’t have been who I was today if I hadn’t done all that for myself. But sometimes it was a little daunting to realize I had always been the responsible one. Giving up control of anything was a trial—witness giving up my guest bedroom to Phoebe. The only thing I routinely let someone else do was when Toby would cook for me. And that just meant I didn’t have to.
So yeah, I think it would have been fun to have a ball that talked to me and a gnome that was rude as all get out. It would have sparked something in my life and been something that was completely my own. Painting was my parents’ thing. Flirting was Caro’s. Football and carpentry were Toby’s. Melodrama was Phoebe’s. It was way too boring to think accounting was the only thing of mine. I wanted the excitement, the adventure—the secret, to be honest.
Sadly, it wasn’t to be. It really would have been kind of fun to have a ball and a talking gnome, no matter how rude he was.
“Your sadness is fair overwhelming and completely misplaced, human. And it opens you to having your thoughts read, as I believe I’ve already told you.”
That voice was so familiar and the inflection so grating as to be welcome. I was afraid to turn around. I did, however, smell my own breath to make sure I hadn’t been drinking without my knowledge.
“You were not that inebriated last night. Annoying, yes. Constantly irritating, most definitely. But not that drunk.”
I did turn around now and beheld my little Arrol, climbing out of the backpack where I’d stashed him with my painting supplies when I came back in from the office. He was full color again, the red of his hat like something from my best acrylic tube. His little flower nearly sparkled in its buttonhole, and his smile was still firmly in place.
I wanted so badly to ask why he wasn’t able to relax his face, but thought that was probably a rude question. And I didn’t think the house could take more rudeness right now. It was full up between Arrol, Phoebe’s intrusiveness, and the man downstairs, who I had thought was my friend. Damn fantasy ruiner.
So instead of the burning-smile question, I asked another. “Are you real?”
“Of course I am, human.” He dusted off the sleeves of his shirt and glared up at me from the couch. “Did you think last night was all some alcohol-induced nightmare, then?”
“Can you read my mind?”
“I believe I answered that particular question last night. But since you obviously feel you were not in your right mind, I will say it again. When you are highly agitated, or deeply moved by some emotion, I am able to pick up what you are thinking, yes.”
I could be a highly emotional person when I didn’t rein myself in. This could prove very embarrassing for me and him both.
I cleared my throat. “Is there, um… Is there a way for you to, like, turn it off or change the channel?” Sounded dumb even to my ears, and I waited for his scathing reply. I knew by now he’d definitely have one. I wasn’t disappointed.
“While it may certainly be possible for me to do such a thing, I have no intention of expending that kind of energy on something that does not directly benefit me.” He sniffed, his little nose going up in the air. If it weren’t for that weird perma-smile, it would have been a cute little snit.
“Well, thanks for the honesty.” That’s me, eternal optimist.
“Your thanks are not necessary. What is necessary, however, is for you to again supply me with food. I would have the pizza you gave me last night, as well as another of your beers.” He looked down his nose at me again, which was somehow possible even though he only came up to my waist on the couch. I’d have to learn that trick. It would come in handy if I ever saw Toby again.
Ha, if I ever let Toby see me again would be a better way to phrase it.
Apparently, I’d be ordering pizza. “Anything specific you want on your pizza? Last night’s had pepperoni and extra cheese, if that’s all right again. Or you can have some gnome-y kind of pizza. Mushrooms? Fish? Bell peppers, perhaps?”
He glared at me with just his eyes. “The one from last night was adequate. Don’t try to foist vegetables off on me.” He plopped down on the couch and grabbed the remote from the cushions. “I will require the box again this evening.”
The box? Ah, the TV. He turned it on and sat mesmerized when a Friends rerun came on.
“This one is really funn—” I began.
“I thought you were getting pizza.” One bushy eyebrow lowered on his high forehead. “And marked progress needs to be made on finding me some new clothes. I have worn these forever and believe I ordered new ones last night, if you do not remember that either.”
Okay.
I picked up the phone and dialed Jo-Jo’s, down the street. After I placed the order and was kibitzing with Erma, since it was a slow night at the counter, I got a beep for Call Waiting. “I can’t believe Jimmy said that to Clara. Was he aiming to get his family jewels permanently sold?” I asked. She laughed. “Dang it, Erma, I have to go. Someone’s calling on the other line and they won’t stop beeping. I’ll see Tom in about twenty minutes, then.”
She said yes, and I clicked over to the other line. “Hello?” It didn’t come out very nice, but I wished I had snarled it when I heard the answering hello.
Chapter Eight
I was a weak, weak woman. I had the fortitude of a jellyfish. That was not entirely true, because normally I did have quite a bit of fortitude, but apparently when it came to Toby I was ready to follow just about any request. Unless he asked to kiss me again. That would be a definite “no” at this juncture.
But I had no other real explanation for why I was here, back at The Total Dive, waiting for Toby to show up. I know, I know! I shouldn’t have even answered the phone. But I blamed it on Call Waiting. And on being weak-willed in the face of seeing him and trying to store up a new image to replace the icky one with the slimy tongue. Bleck.
So it had been Toby on the other line, and he’d invited me out to the bar because he hadn’t seen me all day. What? Maybe I was going crazy and I just didn’t know it. It was as much of an explanation as anything, at this point. And I needed some kind of explanation.
Once I’d accepted and paid for the pizza and cracked open one of my last two Coronas for Arrol, I hightailed it out to the bar. He was not a very happy camper, since I told him he had to hang out in my bedroom. He’d wanted to meet Phoebe after I told him she’d be staying here for God only knew how long. He hadn’t said anything about how that would affect his time with me, and I wasn’t bringing it up. Suffice it to say I wasn’t looking forward to having the little bugger in my room any more than he was about being there.
But I knew my cousin. She would not deal well with a talking gnome. And I didn’t need any more hysteria from her, thank you very much. I’d probably have more than enough to deal with when she came home drunk off her butt. Seemed like a theme around here lately.
I didn’t spend any time on hair or makeup and stayed in my jeans. I did change my paint-splattered shirt for a soft sweater. I’d asked the ball if the outfit was okay, and the cube rolled and rolled without settling on any one answer.
I spotted Toby sitting at a table and hesitantly approached. He had just better not try to kiss me again.
I chose the seat across from him, to put some space between us. “So how are things?” I edged back in my seat and hung my bag on the arm. I’d had another unsuccessful session with the ball before coming over. Arrol said it should work for me, but I was beginning to think that at least that part of my alcohol-induced night was not true. Please. WHAZUP DANNER? It wouldn’t be able to do that. Right? Right.
“Things are good.” He looked like the old Toby, but I just wasn’t sure anymore. He smiled with his pearly white teeth. A part of me still wanted to lick the enamel off them.
“Okay.” I cleared my throat. “So I take it you didn’
t get much of a nap today.”
“Why would you say that?” He stretched one long, strong arm out over the top of his chair. It still flopped my stomach, even if he couldn’t kiss worth shit. Or he kissed like shit.
Either way.
“Well, it didn’t seem like you’d slept very long when I saw you”—bleck—“at the Art Depot.”
“Art Depot?” His eyebrows drew together and made a very attractive V. “I haven’t left the house all day except to come here and meet you for a beer. I got in some good sleep, then unpacked, had a snack, and called you to see what you were up to.”
All right, that was going too far. No matter how nasty that kiss was, and no matter that I wanted to erase it from my mind altogether, that didn’t mean he got to pretend nothing had happened. I know it sounded contrary, but there you had it.
“Why are you lying?”
“I’m not lying.” The arm came down off the back of the chair, and he folded his hands on the table in front of him, leaning forward. “I haven’t been out of the house all day. I swear it.”
“I’ll be right back,” I said, grabbing my bag and heading to the ladies’ room. At least at The Total Dive the bathroom was relatively nice and clean, unlike some other bars I could name.
I thought briefly about ducking out the back door and not returning to the table. But how would I explain that to Toby when I saw him downstairs? We shared a house, a yard, trashcans.
But it would also mean skipping out on the check, and I didn’t want to do that either. I hadn’t ordered anything, but there was a beer sitting at my place, and I felt a powerful thirst coming on. Damn. I banged the door open to the bathroom. It was a single bathroom and not one of those stall dealies. Thank God, because I was not in the mood for sharing the bathroom with another woman while I asked the ball whether Toby was being honest or not.
After locking the door behind me and putting my bag on the floor, I took the ball out. I sat on the toilet, and thanked God, too, that this toilet actually had a lid instead of being one of those with just the seat.