Stir Until Petrified

by Theda Vallee

  Contents

  Title Page

  Dedication

  Copyright

  Chapter 1

  Chapter 2

  Chapter 3

  Chapter 4

  Chapter 5

  Chapter 6

  Chapter 7

  Chapter 8

  Chapter 9

  Chapter 10

  Chapter 11

  Chapter 12

  Chapter 13

  Chapter 14

  Chapter 15

  Chapter 16

  Chapter 17

  Chapter 18

  Chapter 19

  Chapter 20

  Chapter 21

  Chapter 22

  Chapter 23

  Chapter 24

  Chapter 25

  Chapter 26

  Chapter 27

  Chapter 28

  Acknowledgements

  STIR

  UNTIL

  PETRIFIED

  A novel by

  Theda Vallee

  For my boys.

  First published in the United States in May 2018 by Theda Vallee

  Copyright © 2017 by Theda Vallee

  All Rights Reserved

  Printed by Amazon

  Cover Design by Daqri Bernardo of Covers by Combs

  No part of this work mat be reproduced, stored, or transmitted in any form; electronic, mechanical, or by other means; without written consent from the author, except in brief quotations in critical essays or reviews.

  This is a work of fiction. All names, characters, and incidences are products of the author’s imagination. Any resemblances as such are coincidental and fictionalized.

  Chapter

  1

  My skirt inched its way up for the hundredth time. The spandex had a mind of its own. For every inch I pulled down, it sprang up exposing another two inches of my thigh. I sullenly twirled the straw in the drink I’d been nursing for several hours. The ice cubes had melted long ago, diluting the alcohol beyond recognition. My inability to even finish one drink had left me the de facto designated driver. Fine by me. The last thing I wanted to do was spend the night slobbering drunk, grinding on the dance floor like a cat in heat. I should’ve stayed home and watched reruns. That would’ve at least been entertaining.

  The strobe lights flickered, throbbing to the beat of a dance song. I recognized it as soon as the thundering beat hit in, my sister had been playing it on repeat for weeks. Speaking of my sister, Nerina was writhing on the dance floor in a crush of bodies. She didn’t have issues grinding on random strangers. She was a free spirit. The kind of person who could let go of everything to enjoy the moment. I, on the other hand, had severe control issues. Nerina despaired constantly about my inability to let go and live.

  I watched Nerina grind away on a tall dark stranger. Her tiny frame was almost swallowed by the crowd. Her dark hair would fly out in an arch behind her with every spastic move she made. Every few minutes she’d wave her hands in my direction. Either she needed the Heimlich or she wanted me to join her. I wasn’t going to jump into that mess of sweaty drunken tomfoolery. I can’t dance. I could move a little, but the girls out there were shaking it in ways I had no idea how to mimic. Besides, if I left the table to dance who’d sit here forlornly staring off into the crowd, protecting our purses.

  The song ended and Nerina stumbled toward the table, with a breathless grin. “Etta, were you watching? Did you see me? I had the sweetest moves out there!”

  “You could say that. You could also say it looked like drunken seizures.” I said rolling my eyes at her. “Can we go? I have a pint of ice cream and a rerun calling my name.”

  “Shut up! You’re glad I made you come. Admit you love it right now or I’m stealing your drink.” Nerina snatched my watered-down mojito off the table taking a long gulp.

  “You can have it since you’re already guzzling it down. I admit nothing. I’ve sat at this table by myself all night. At the very least you could’ve let me wear my own clothes.” I grumbled self-consciously, my hands automatically moving to make sure my skirt still covered my lady bits. I’d wanted to wear jeans with a conservative black sweater. Instead, Nerina had forced me into a purple spandex mini skirt. The black sweater had been replaced with a skin-tight sequin tank top that was cut so low I was terrified my nipples were exposed every time I moved. I was more of a sweatpants and t-shirt kind of girl. Worrying about what body part might fall out of my outfit was not my idea of fun.

  “All your clothes are ugly. No guy would’ve hit on you if I let you dress yourself.” Nerina downed the rest of my drink in one fluid motion.

  “No one’s hit on me tonight, and I’m wearing what you picked out for me,” I said, grateful for small miracles.

  “That’s because you don’t put yourself out there. You’ve sat here all night with a look that says fuck off I bite. Would it kill you to smile?” she said, grabbing my mouth, forcing my lips up into some semblance of a smile with her fingers. “See! You’re so hot! You should have men lined up outside our door just for a chance to talk to you. You don’t see me sitting home on a Friday night, do ya?”

  As drunk as Nerina was, she had a point. At twenty-six I was in my prime. I should be having a blast test driving as many men as possible. I wasn’t hideous. I’d always been a pretty girl. I was a little taller than most women at five feet ten, but that gave me legs to die for. My long black hair hung in waves down past my shoulders. I didn’t have a model’s body but, hey, if a fella liked a little bit of junk in the trunk I had plenty to serve. By far the best thing I had going for me was a trait that I shared with Nerina. We had eyes that were green like the Caribbean ocean. Our eye color was so startling that people stopped us on the street to ask if we were wearing contacts.

  I had quite a package to offer, but that package came with a lot of baggage. It’d been six years since my husband left. I married the first boy that said hello to me and he’d promptly said goodbye. When he left, I had no idea how to exist. Dating wasn’t an option. Casual sex didn’t appeal to me. I have no issue with it; it just seemed like something that would make me feel lonelier than I already was. I didn’t know how to begin to put myself out there again.

  “You haven’t had sex in like six years. It’s like a horse. You just need to get back on and ride it.” she said, galloping in place. For Nerina, everything always led back to sex.

  “Please, say that a little louder. I don’t think the people over by the DJ booth heard you. And it’s a bike, not a horse.” I managed to force out through my gritted teeth. I glanced around furtively, hoping she hadn’t drawn any unwanted attention. The last thing I needed was a flood of drunken idiots thinking I was looking for a one-night stand.

  “Whatever. Same difference. The issue is you just need to jump in and go for it. Come on, we still have a few hours before last call. Let’s find you someone to go home with.” Nerina scanned the club to find a poor unsuspecting fool to thrust upon me. “What about that guy over there?”

  “If you could hold your arm straight I might be able to figure out what direction you’re pointing in.” I said trying to follow her wobbling arm.

  “Over by the bar, like third stool from the end closest to us. He looks hot and available.”

  “That’s Carl. You slept with him two months ago.”

  “See? Hot and available. Oh! I remember him. He was really, really good in bed.

  He did this thing with his tongue you will die for. Come on, I’ll introduce you.” she said grabbing my hand.

  “No. I’m not sleeping with the guy you dumped two months ago because he kept texting his ex when he was out on dates with you. Besides, it’s creepy to sleep with someone you slept with.”

  “You don’t have t
o date him. How is it creepy? It’s not like it’s at the same time. Besides, it‘ll be like training wheels for you! He does eighty percent of the work.” She said waving her hands in exasperation.

  My withering glare was all the answer she got. I didn’t care how desperate I was. I would not sleep with my baby sister’s sloppy seconds. Maybe it was an ego thing but, whatever it was, it was a no go.

  “Fine, what about that guy over there by the DJ booth. He’s tall, dark and handsome, your favorite.” She pointed to a man that was anything but. He was squat, with a beer belly that proceeded him as he made his way through the crowd.

  “Nerina, he looks like a freaking werewolf. I can see the hair coming out of the top of his Hawaiian shirt. Do you know why I can see all his chest hair? The top four buttons of his shirt are undone. Who leaves that many buttons undone on a Hawaiian shirt? Seriously, ew.” Werewolf-man noticed us scoping him out from across the room. He winked and started to make his way over.

  “He could be totally hot under the sheets. You’re judgmental. Maybe looks aren’t everything. You should go talk to him. He could have a heart of gold.”

  “Well, it’s your lucky day. All your pointing made the werewolf think we’re interested. Can we go? I’m tired and we promised Nonna we’d go to church in the morning even if we came in late. I don’t want to stick around trying to fend this guy off for a few hours.” I said letting her hear the plea in my voice.

  “Just be a bitch. You’re good at that, remember?” She smiled at me, rolling her eyes when she finally realized I meant what I said. “Fine, let me finish this drink. Then we can go.”

  I don’t know whose drink she was finishing, but I needed to go with a quickness. I didn’t want to talk to Hawaii 5-0. I tapped my fingers on the table impatiently. Squeezing my thighs together I prepared to remove myself as gracefully as possible from the barstool. No need to give the werewolf any more encouragement.

  “I have to pee.” Nerina slurred at me. She’d gone from drunk party girl to sloppy drunk while finishing off the leftovers she’d found on the table. “Let me pee, then I need to say goodnight to everyone. Then we can go. OK, miss prissy pants?”

  “I’ll come with you. I don’t want to be at this table alone if that guy makes it over here.” Not only was she now a sloppy drunk she was also a traitor. She was going to feed me to the werewolf.

  “If you leave, Gia won’t know where we went. Five minutes. You can last five more minutes.” Without giving me further chance to protest she stumbled off towards the bathroom.

  Five minutes my ass. Anyone who’s ever been to a crowded club knows the girls’ restroom always has a line. More like thirty minutes. Thirty minutes of terror waiting to see if the wolfman would make his way over to sleaze all over me. I scanned the crowd desperately for my cousin, Giana. Maybe I could get her attention. She could wait for Nerina to come back while I waited for them in the car. I needed to get back to the safety and comfort of home. This night had been a bad idea. I’d tried to tell Nerina that I just wasn’t ready.

  “Excuse me. I’m sorry to come over like this, but I was wondering if I could buy you a drink,” a husky masculine voice asked from behind me. I froze, unable to move. That cow I called my sister was going to pay dearly for leaving me alone with a wolf on the prowl. I turned around steeling myself to fend off his unwanted advances.

  Standing behind me was not the sleaze ball I’d expected. Instead, a sculpture of male perfection, an Adonis come to life, towered over me. He wore a black t-shirt that strained against the contours of what had to be a perfect chest underneath. I was jumping to conclusions but, really, a t-shirt didn’t fit that well unless things were sculpted with precision. Tan arms folded across his chest, highlighting biceps he’d probably spent hours to achieve. Golden hair swept down, resting artfully above his brow. Before this moment I don’t think I ever really knew what someone meant by chiseled features. His face was strong and masculine. A jawline to write home about and lips you could get lost in.

  My mouth fell open. Where had he been hiding all night? I sat; mouth gaping, unable to respond to his simple question. I took a few deep breaths trying to compose myself enough to answer him. Just as I was about to speak he turned on a megawatt smile, revealing the most freaking adorable dimples. Are you kidding? Dimples. Really? How was that even fair?

  “Sorry, maybe I should have introduced myself first? My name’s Lucio. You can call me Luc.” He extended his magnificent hand out for me to shake.

  I swallowed the mouth full of saliva he’d induced before trying to form a sentence. It would probably be a big turn off if I opened my mouth and drool fell out. I reached out limply grasping his hand. “Violetta. You can call me Etta, though.”

  “I don’t usually do this, but can I buy you a drink?” he asked aiming his brilliant grin at me.

  Was that an accent? It was hard to tell for certain over the booming bass of the dance music. If it was an accent I was done for. Nothing melted my panties off quicker than a man with a lovely foreign lilt to his voice.

  “I’m driving.” Glad to see my social skills had decided to leave me. This would be short-lived if all I could do was stammer out one or two-word answers.

  “We can have a glass of water together, if you like.”

  “Umm, yeah, OK, that would be fine.” His eyes were amazing. They were the color of honey near the pupil with a ring of olive green surrounding it. Damn, was there anything about this guy that was not hot? He grabbed a waitress who happened to be wandering by. Leaning towards her, he placed our order before turning his attention back to me.

  “I am sorry if this is awkward or weird. I really wanted to meet you. I don’t think I’ve ever actually come up to a woman in a bar before. My friends tell me I need to just go for it. It’s not really my style though.” His hand raked through his perfectly styled hair as if he was as nervous as I was.

  “Well, that makes two of us. I don’t usually go to clubs. It’s not really my thing, so going up to men in clubs is really outside my comfort zone.”

  “So, what is your thing?” Gazing at me, he cocked an eyebrow, waiting for my reply.

  “I wanted to stay home in my pj’s, watching Hoarders while eating Ben and Jerry’s.” Great. I’d just sabotaged my chance of anything further happening with one horrific sentence.

  Instead of fleeing from the crazy lady I’d just admitted I was, he laughed before smiling at me like I was a comedic genius. “OK, now that sounds like my kind of Friday night! Except I’d be watching that show where people are addicted to crazy things. Have you seen that one?”

  “Oh my God; yes. I saw this lady who ate tires every day. Her husband had to bring home like tons of tires or she would lose it.” I said excited to share my love of junk television with someone.

  “Exactly! What kills me about that show is in every episode these people eat all this crazy stuff, then they go to the doctor, and there is never anything wrong with them. Is that even possible? Can you really eat stuff like tires for years with no consequence?” The waitress cut between us with our drinks. He’d ordered a dark ominous looking beer. I took my water, wishing I’d ordered a shot of something strong. Maybe if I had some liquid courage in me I could channel Nerina and let him take me home for the night.

  “What else do you do for fun? I just moved here a few weeks ago, I’m still trying to figure out what’s worth seeing around here.” He sipped his beer seeming more relaxed than when he’d first come over.

  “I work a lot, so I don’t really get out too much. When I do go out it’s usually just to the beach, nothing too exciting.”

  “Where do you work that could possibly be more exciting than getting out to explore the world?” he teased.

  “I work at my grandmother’s bakery in Little Italy. It’s called Fabbrica Dolce; over on Third. We serve Italian pastries and bread. My sister works with me. It’s just the three of us, so it’s a lot of long hours.” I tried not to sound as pathetic as I was. I worked bec
ause I had no social life. Kneading bread for hours was my idea of a good time.

  “Let me get this straight. Not only are you stunningly beautiful but you can cook too. I think it may be fate that made me walk over here tonight.” he said eyeing me over the rim of his glass.

  A blush rushed across my cheeks. It’d been a long time since anyone had called me beautiful. It was probably just a pickup line, but my heart beat a little faster anyway. My brain was desperately trying to be the logical guide telling me we needed to be careful, but something about this guy was making my hormones override my brain. I wanted to believe that he thought I was beautiful. Who wouldn’t want a perfect specimen of mankind drooling over them?

  “Did you read 101 ways to make a girl swoon before you came tonight? Or are just really that bad at small talk?” I said stirring my water nervously.

  Luc burst out laughing. He had a loud, deep, masculine laugh that I felt all the way down to my toes. He kept laughing until he was literally holding his side. “I’m sorry. I wasn’t aware that it was unacceptable to appreciate a woman’s beauty in America. I told you I never do this. What’s an acceptable compliment?”

  Nerina staggered up to the table before I could answer him. She had the worst timing ever. No. She had the best timing ever. The last thing I needed in my life was to get involved with some sexy foreign man. Keep it solo. That’s the motto I needed to keep front and center in my mind. My life was already complicated enough.

  “Looks like you guys are having fun over here. Hi, I’m Nerina. This is my beautiful, amazing, ultra-sexy sister you’re talking to right here.” She slapped my back for emphasis. “She didn’t want to come.”

  “That’s true. You know, maybe we should get you home. Sounds like you’ve had enough fun for one night.” I reached over the table to grab my purse. The best thing I could do was make a hasty retreat. How could anyone fault me for having to drive my drunk ass sister home?