Forecast (26 page)

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Authors: Jane Tara

BOOK: Forecast
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That glimmer had been extinguished. Her search was over, and there was nothing blissful about what lay ahead.

CHAPTER FORTY-FOUR
 
 

Drew looked at the blonde sitting opposite him and smiled as he pretended to find her interesting.

“So I broke into his flat and sprinkled alfalfa seeds all over the floor, gave the place a good watering, turned the heat on and left. He came back a week later and the place was a big goddamn salad bar.” She guffawed, before turning serious again. “No way was he going to get away with it. No one dumps me, you know what I’m saying?”

Loud and clear. Drew nodded and glanced at her over-inflated boobs, not so much out of lust but a genuine interest as to whether they were real or not. Probably not. For something so large to defy gravity in such a way was truly amazing … and slightly off-putting.

“I always watch your show.”

Drew glanced at his watch. Was it rude to cancel a date half an hour into it? “I would hardly call it a show. It’s only a spot on the news.”

“I love the traffic report,” she said breathlessly, licking her already wine stained lips.

“I do the weather.”

“Oh,” she giggled, “shows how much attention I pay to what you say.”

Drew was throwing himself back into his bachelor ways, trying to exorcize Rowie from his mind, from his heart. He refused to be destroyed by another woman. It was best to get straight back on the horse.

Although, with this date, he was taking the horse analogy too literally. She didn’t laugh. She whinnied.

He’d been out every night for the last couple of weeks, to clubs, bars, and parties. He’d been to an industry party and a photo of him with a couple of models made the paper the next day. It looked like he was having a blast. But he wasn’t. The women didn’t interest him. None of them were Rowie. None even came close.

“And so I thought, what the hell will I do? I’d never had that problem before. What do you do when your nail technician dies?”

Drew suddenly felt tired. She was boring, superficial and had the IQ of a baked bean. Still, she had interesting tits.

“No idea,” Drew said, pretending to care.

“Luckily everything turned out for the best because my new one is even better than the dead one. Look.” She held her hand out and twiddled her fingers in front of his face, proudly displaying her nails. They were just like her: long, loud and thick looking. He wondered if they were capable of taking skin off a man’s back. They would definitely come in handy if you couldn’t find a bottle opener. He could take her camping and blow her up when he needed to open a beer.

“How about we go back to your place for a nightcap,” he suggested.

“No thanks,” she said.

Maybe ole buoyant boobs had more backbone then he gave her credit for.

“But I’ll take you back for a fuck.”

So she had the class of a Vegas hooker! Who was he to judge? Besides, a night with a set of gravity defying jugs might be just what he needed. He didn’t think it was … but it was worth a try.

CHAPTER FORTY-FIVE
 
 

Rowie and Lilia had barely uttered more than two words to each other all morning. It was Autumn Equinox, usually a time for celebration. But neither of them felt like celebrating. Instead, they unpacked a box of books and tried to ignore what was happening around them.

For days, a constant flow of potential buyers had paraded through the shop, and all were more than willing to share their inane opinions on how to make the space better.

“A gentleman’s club. I’m talking high class … with topless waitresses”

“That’s right, a dating agency for men and blow up dolls … although this place may not be quite right … it’s a bit strange really.”

“We’d paint the walls black and turn it into a radical feminist bookstore.”

“I’d keep it like this. I don’t know anything about psychic readings, but it shouldn’t be too hard to learn.”

But none of the potential buyers were as obnoxious or as disturbing as the couple Lilia and Rowie were watching right now.

Bobby Burger was a well-known figure, thanks to his TV commercials and burgeoning business. In the past five years his burger chain, Burger Boy, had expanded quickly and was snapping at the heels of Hungry Jacks and Burger King. He was now looking to expand into New York, and was overseeing potential premises himself.

Bobby was tall, and large—obviously himself a big burger eater—and dressed like Hoss from
Bonanza
. His wife, Sally-Sue was well known for her faith in the Lord and the donations she made to overseas Baptist missions to help spread His word.

Rowie felt physically ill as she watched Bobby Burger march around the shop. She could almost smell the rump steak on the man. Surely
this
wasn’t what her grandmother wanted! Personally, she’d rather burn Second Site to the ground than let this man get his hands on it.

“I don’t know, Bobby,” Sally-Sue flittered close to her husband. She didn’t like the place one iota. “That other place in China Town was nice. Good Christian owners.”

“Looked goddamn Buddhist to me,” Bobby boomed.

Sally-Sue paused and took
Tantric Sex For Dummies
off a shelf. What on earth …?

“An excellent book for beginners,” Lilia offered.

Sally-Sue glared at Lilia and shoved the book back on the shelf.

Lilia gave a snicker and turned to her daughter. “Her root chakra is completely blocked.”

“It’s a prime spot,” slimed the real estate agent. “There’s a serious lack of burger joints around here.”

“Too many goddamn vegetarians,” barked Bobby. “Gotta put a stop to it.”

“Did you know it takes eight barrels of oil to get one cow to market,” announced Lilia loudly, to no one in particular.

The real estate agent ignored her and groveled further up Bobby’s posterior. “I’m a fan of your Mega Burger, sir.”

Bobby Burger gave the real estate agent a hearty slap on the back. “That’s my favorite too, son. The Burger Boy specialty. Five beef patties on a sesame seed bun.”

Lilia pulled a face. “Eoow! Did someone say bowel cancer?”

Sally-Sue glared at Lilia. “This place is strange, Bobby.”

“Won’t be strange when I gut it and shove my Burger Boy logo out front.”

Rowie couldn’t take it any more. “I need some fresh air.”

“I’ll come with you,” said Lilia.

Neither of them noticed as Gwendolyn entered from the back room and watched them leave.

CHAPTER FORTY-SIX
 
 

Rowie and Lilia wandered through Central Park. It was beautiful at the moment, with the red and oranges of early fall splashed across the trees. Rowie lifted her face and let the sun shine on it. She loved the park. It exuded a lightness that stemmed from being full of people in search of relaxation. It was also home to countless earth creatures, if one knew where to look.

“What horrible people,” moaned Lilia. “Did you see his hat?”

“We can’t let them buy the shop.”

“It’s not up to us.”

“Perhaps they won’t want it.”

Lilia picked up a small pebble and ran her fingers over its edges. “They want it.”

Yeah,” said Rowie. “I figured they would.”

*

 

Drew and Jack were jogging. Neither of them liked it, but they did it anyway, twice a week, around lunch. They started near the Plaza, jogged into the park and past the entrance to the zoo. Jack was no marathon runner, but that suited Drew who was still building the strength in his leg.

“I had a call from Nike,” puffed Jack. “They’ve got this new ‘all weather’ shoe.”

“If they pay, I’ll play.”

Jack glanced sideways at his friend. “For someone who just got their life back on track you’re … gloomy.”

“I’m fine.” Drew shot Jack a big, fake grin. “See.”

They dodged a group of children and a kamikaze squirrel before heading past the Wollman rink.

“Does this have anything to do with the pretty red head?”

“She screwed me over, Jack. I was just returning the favor.”

“Word is she didn’t know she was getting your job.”

Drew was silent for a moment. “Who told you that?”

“I ran into Mac.”

Drew stopped running and stared at Jack. He could hear the carousel behind them. He stretched for a moment, while Jack bent over, trying to catch his breath.

“I’ve really got to exercise more,” Jack wheezed.

Drew was surprised. He took his sunglasses off and searched Jack’s face. “She really didn’t know?”

“Nope.”

Drew’s eyes glazed over. “But she still took it.”

“Yeah well you made that easy for her, acting like an ass. You should know I’m going to represent her.”

“What? Why?”

“Because she’s hot property. She’s good for business. And most of all … I like the girl. She came by the office a couple of days ago. She’s a great kid.” Jack took a slug from his water bottle. “And no point looking at me like that, Drew. You’re not my wife. I can represent whomever I want.”

“Fine.”

“Sulker.”

“Am not.”

Jack’s face lit up. “Wouldn’t you like to see her again?”

“Nope.”

“It could be easily arranged.” Jack seemed easily amused.

“I’ll pass.”

“Pity,” grinned Jack. “Because she’s over there.”

Jack boomed with laughter as Drew’s heart shot into his throat. Rowie and her mother were a few feet away from him, headed for the carousel.

“Don’t say anything,” pleaded Drew, but it was too late. Jack was already calling out to them.

“Rowie … Rowie. Hey, what a coincidence.”

Judging by the look on Rowie’s face, she was as horrified as Drew by the coincidence—if one were to believe in coincidences. But Jack only noticed it for a moment, because then he laid eyes on Lilia … and his world stopped.

For only the second time in his life, Jack Witterspoon fell madly in love.

*

 

Rowie thought she was going to be sick. The last thing she needed right now was a face-to-face with Drew. She wasn’t mentally prepared. Even worse, she wasn’t wearing any makeup.

“Hello Jack … Drew …”

Drew nodded, while Jack introduced himself—rather shyly—to Lilia.

“Jack Witterspoon, lovely to meet you.” Lovely? It was goddamn mind-blowing.

“Oh, you’re the one helping Rowie find a job,” said Lilia.

She’s heard of me, thought Jack. Now if only I can think of something witty to say. “Yeah,” he said. And then fell quiet.

Rowie’s eyes searched Drew’s “How are you, Drew?”

Drew slipped his sunglasses back on. “Good … great … you know.”

Yes, she did know. She’d read the papers. He obviously missed her as much as one would a head cold, and had moved onto much blonder pastures. There was an uncomfortable pause, and Rowie looked at Jack, urging him to fill the silence. But he seemed as tongue tied as her. “We were just going on the carousel,” Rowie explained.

“Lovely,” said Jack.

“The horses are hand painted,” said Lilia, to no one in particular.

“Is that so,” said Jack, way more interested in that information than most men would be.

Rowie began to edge her way towards freedom. “Anyway … nice to see you both.” She turned to Jack. “I’ll fax the management agreement back to you in the next couple of days.”

Jack tried to think of something business-like to say. “Cool.”

“Well … goodbye.” Rowie started to walk off, each step an effort as she felt Drew’s eyes boring into her back. How she wished she had the graceful, fluid movements of her mother, or even the sexy swaying rhythm of Angel. Instead she had been endowed with the lumbering gait of a drunken truck driver and was known to trip on a regular basis.

“Rowie?”

She turned, grateful for the chance to stop and compose herself. “Yes?”

Drew smiled at her. “I … um, nothing … thanks. I’ll see you round, okay?”

“Sure,” she nodded, “like a donut …” WHAT! Like a donut? What sort of moron would say ‘like a donut’? Rowie took her mother’s arm and rushed off before she heard Drew collapse on the ground with laughter, because that’s what she would do if some idiot with a bumbling walk said something as ridiculous as ‘like a donut’ to her.

It was genetic. Lilia always said the most ridiculous things and now it was obvious the defect had been passed onto Rowie. She could remember the day she had been teased mercilessly by a girl at school who had told everyone that Rowie rode a broomstick. Rowie had arrived home in tears, her face smudged with the dirt the girl had pushed her in, the back of her dress torn.

“Just look her in the eye and tell her she’s a silly duffer,” Lilia advised.

“A what?”

“A silly duffer.”

“What’s a silly duffer?”

“Someone who says silly things.”

Gwendolyn, who’d overheard Lilia’s solution, pulled Rowie to one side and told her that the silly duffer route should only be taken if she wanted to subject herself to more ridicule.

“Then what will I do, Gran?”

“Tell her you’ve cursed her and unless she starts being nice to people she will grow warts on the end of her nose.”

The following day at school the girl confronted Rowie as she ate her lunch.

“Where’s your broomstick, witch?”

Rowie was an unusually obedient child. Even if she tried, it would be impossible to rebel against such an odd and open-minded family. Perhaps conservatism was the ultimate rebellion. So being as compliant as she was, she attempted to follow her mother’s advice first. “Oh leave me alone. Don’t be a silly duffer.”

The girl looked as though she was going to burst with glee at being handed such valuable ammunition. “What did you say?” she said, guffawing like the donkey she resembled.

Rowie glared at her, her tiny body tense with rage. “I said me and my grandmother put a curse on you last night and if you don’t start being nice to me … to everyone … then you’re going to wake up with warts all over your face.”

The girl froze and the guffaw subsided as a look of pure fear flickered across her eyes. Then she turned, ran, and stayed away from Rowie for the rest of the year. Rowie would still be riddled with guilt over frightening the girl like that except that the girl’s fake niceness eventually developed into genuine niceness, her popularity ensuring her the title of Class President in their final year. She was generally considered to be the kindest girl ever to grace the halls of Lincoln High, and Rowie liked to believe she had had a hand in that.

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